Public Secrets

now. They’re coming, Pete. It’s finished.”
No, it couldn’t be. He’d worked too hard, planned too carefully. “I say when it’s finished. I know what to do. I can fix it.”
They were above and behind the stage now. Far below she could see the lights and confusion. Taking her hair, he wrapped it tight around his wrist. “If you scream, I’ll shoot you.”
He needed to think. Confused, he continued to drag her along. She stumbled, and as he pulled her up, she yanked the pin from her jacket and let it drop. Seizing a chance, he shoved her into a freight elevator. It was time, time that he needed.

It was supposed to have been so easy. In the dark, while everyone was confused, he should have been able to get to her. He still had the pills in his pocket he had planned to force her to take. It would have been easy, smooth, quiet.
But nothing had gone easily.
Just like the first time.
“Why?” Sick with vertigo, Emma sunk to the floor. “Why did you do that to Darren?”
Sweat was running off him, drenching his crisp linen shirt. “He wasn’t supposed to be hurt. No one was. It was just a publicity stunt.”
She shook her head to clear it. “What?”
“Your mother gave me the idea.” He looked down at her. He doubted she’d give him much trouble. She was white as a sheet. She’d always had trouble on planes, elevators. With heights. He glanced at the buttons on the panel. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?
The opening act would be starting. The show must go on, he thought. Illusion was the first order of the day. While millions of people around the country were watching the record industry pat itself on the back, a few confused guards were looking for Emma backstage. Up here he had time to think. And to plan.
She felt the elevator shudder and bump to a halt. “What are you talking about?”
“Jane—she was always pressuring for more money, threatening to go to the press with this story, or that story. She worried me at first until I began to see that the publicity about you equaled a boom in record sales.” He pulled her up. She was limp with nausea and clammy with icy sweat. So much the better. With his arm around her neck, he dragged her up another flight of stairs.
She had to keep him talking. Emma bit back the sickness and the fear. Bev had gotten away, and the baby. Someone would come looking for her.
He didn’t worry about her screaming now. She could yell her lungs out and no one would hear. Shoving open a door, he pushed her out on the roof. The wind slapped across her face, tore at her hair. And cleared her head.

“We were talking about Darren.” She kept her eyes on his as she backed away. The sun was still bright. One part of her mind wondered how it could be day when she’d been in the dark for so long. “I need to know why—” She backed into the low wall, then swayed at the dizzying view below. Clenching her teeth, she looked back at him. ’Tell me why you were in Darren’s room.”
He could afford to indulge her. And himself. He’d nearly lost control for a moment, but he could feel himself leveling now. He’d find a way out. “Everything was fine for a while. Then it started to flatten out. We were having some internal troubles with the group, as well. They needed something to shake them up. Jane came to me with Blackpool. She wanted me to make him a star, a bigger star than Brian. And she wanted a cut. She got drunk.” He waved his hand. “In any case, she offered me a solution. We planned to kidnap Darren. The press would eat it up. A lot of sympathy, a lot of sales. The band would pull together. Blackpool and Jane could keep the money and everyone would be happy.”
She wasn’t worried about the height any longer, or about the gun. With the wind in her hair and the sun dropping lower at her back, she stared at him. “You’re telling me my brother was killed to sell records?”
“It was an accident. Blackpool was clumsy. You came in. It was a poor set of circumstances.”
“A poor set …” She did scream then, loud and long as she struck out at him.

Chapter Forty-Five

B ACKSTAGE OF THE auditorium was in chaos when Michael rushed in. In the audience a cheer rose up as another winner was announced.
“Where is she?”
“He took her.” Bev was clinging to Brian’s arm. She was still out of breath from her race down the hall with the baby. “He had a gun. She held him off so I could get the baby away and find help. Pete,” she said, still dazed. “It