Xo

I’ve got my children to get back to, my dogs, my guests from New York … and a friend here who’s about to become the nemesis of 35,000 people.
    “Sorry, I’m a little nervous about this.”
    “Jon, it’s okay,” she said, finding her voice surprisingly warm. “Go on.”
    “I know we’ve had a, well, sort of policy of not traveling with the kids, not overnight. Well …” He seemed to realize he was stammering and now just blurted, “I’m thinking I’d like all of us to take a trip.” He looked away. “For this consulting gig, they need me down in San Diego for two weeks—La Jolla. The company rented me a place near the beach. It’s a month rental and they said I could keep it for a week or two after the job’s done. So I was thinking we could all drive down, see Hearst’s Castle, then go to Lego Land and Disneyland for the kids. Well, actually, I want to go there too. Not Lego Land particularly. But Disneyland. So, what do you think? A week in San Diego, all four of us?”
    “A week?”
    He grimaced. “Okay, I know it’s hard for you to get off, especially after you took some time now. But if there’s any way you could … See, it’s a four-bedroom place. We’d have separate rooms, all of us. You and me too. But still, it’s a good step forward, with the kids, I was thinking. Traveling together but not together together, you know what I mean?”
    “A week?” Dance was stammering herself too.
    He’d be thinking: I said that, didn’t I?
    Oh, God—the move was temporary. Her mother hadn’t gotten all the information.
    He sensed her hesitation. And said stoically, “No problem. If that’s too much time, maybe you and the kids could fly down and we could spend a few days together. I mean, you could always come down alone but, I don’t know, I thought it might be nice to take a family vacation.”
    Those last two words were like lace trim: flimsy yet hopeful.
    “I … hey.” He stumbled back as she threw her arms around him, both euphoric and utterly ashamed of her assumption, which was based on the worst thing a law enforcer can be swayed by—faulty information.
    She kissed him energetically. “Yes, yes, yes! We’ll work it out. I’d love to.” Then she frowned. “But a favor?”
    “Sure, of course.”
    She whispered, “Can you and I get adjoining rooms? Sometimes the kids go to sleep early.”
    “That can be arranged.”
    She kissed him once more.
    Just as her phone chirped. This time, O’Neil had sent a text: Signed the divorce papers. Enjoy the concert. See you soon … I hope.
    Oh, brother, she thought.
    Oh, brother.
    Another ding. She looked down: XO, Michael.
    She slipped the phone away and took Boling’s hand.
    “A problem?” he asked.
    “No,” she said. “No problems at all.”
    Then the hulking form of Bishop Towne was approaching. He paused and, ignoring Boling, grunted to Dance, “Guess this is it.” He took a deep breath. “Times like these’re when I really miss a drink. Guess I better go make a slew of people real unhappy.”
    He ambled out onstage.
    There was, of course, a resounding thunderclap of applause and shouts; this was Mr. Country himself greeting them, about to introduce his even more talented daughter.
    He waved.
    Pandemonium.
    Dance and Boling walked into the wings to see better. As the spotlight found Towne, he looked diminished and old and in pain. He squinted slightly, hesitated and continued to an active microphone.
    He scanned the crowd and seemed surprised there were so many people there, though Dance suspected that the savvy businessman would know the exact head count and box office receipts.
    He rasped, “Good evening, y’all. I—” His voice caught and he started again. “I surely do ’preciate you coming out tonight.” Bishop, Dance hadnoted, had no Southern accent when he was engaged in regular conversation. Now, a twang of Appalachia tinted his words.
    More whistles and shouts and applause.
    “Listen up, listen up. Uhm, I have an announcement I’d like to make.”
    There was a beat as the crowd grew silent, expecting something was wrong, perhaps related to Kayleigh’s kidnapping earlier in the day and the other events of the past week.
    Collective dismay was starting to brew.
    “Again, we ’preciate your being here and appreciate all the support you’ve shown to Kayleigh and the band and her family during this difficult time.”
    He cleared his throat once more.
    As he said, “I gotta tell you—” The