Public Secrets

was Pete.”
“It hasn’t been more than a couple minutes,” Brian told him. “Security’s already after him.”
“Get this building blocked off,” Michael shouted to McCarthy. “Call for more backup. We need a floor-by-floor search. Which way?”
Drawing his weapon, he headed down the corridor. He flashed his badge to a uniformed guard.
“This floor secured. He didn’t come out onstage with or without her. We figure he took her up.”
“I want two men.” Back to the wall, Michael started up the stairs. He could hear the music pumping from behind him. As he climbed, it took on a hollow, echoing tone. His palms were wet. Making the first turn, he checked his grip, then swept the area with his weapon. At the clatter on the stairs, he whirled and swore when he saw the four men grouped together. “Get back downstairs.”
“She’s ours, too,” Brian said.

“I haven’t got time to argue.” Bending, Michael retrieved the phoenix pin, a swatch of silvery material caught in the clasp. “Is this Emma’s?”
“She was wearing it tonight,” Johnno told him. “I gave it to her.”
Michael stared at the elevator, then slipped the pin into his pocket. “She’s using her head,” he murmured. “Seal off this area,” he shouted to the security guards. “And keep up the floor-by-floor.” He punched the button on the elevator and watched the numbers light up above the door. “Tell McCarthy he took her all the way up.” Listening to the rumble of the elevator, he began to pray.
“We’re going with you,” Brian said.
“This is police business.”
“It’s personal,” Brian corrected. “It’s always been personal. If he hurts her, I’m going to kill him myself.”
Michael shot a grim look at the four men behind him. “You’ll have to get in line.”

P ETE SHOVED EMMA back, sending her sprawling while he tried to catch his breath. “That’s not going to do any good. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I must, Emma.”
“He was a baby.” She pushed herself up. “You bought him a silver cup after he was born, with his name on it. For his first birthday you rented a pony for his party.”
“I was fond of him.”
“You murdered him.”
“I never laid a hand on him. Blackpool got too rough, panicked. I never wanted to hurt that boy.”
She dragged her wind-tossed hair out of her face. “You just wanted to use him, to use him and my father’s fear and pain for some bloody publicity. Oh, I can see it,” she added. ‘Brian McAvoy’s son stolen from his crib. Rock star pays a king’s ransom for safe return of beloved child.’ That’s what you had in mind, didn’t you? Lots of print, lots of film at eleven. Reporters crammed on the front yard waiting for a statement from the terrified parents. Then more of the same when the baby was returned to loving arms. But he was never returned, was he?”
“What happened was tragic—”

“Don’t talk to me about tragedy.” Too anguished to be afraid, she turned away. The gun was trained on her, she knew it. It didn’t seem to matter. After all these years, she remembered and it left her hollow. But worse, much worse, was to know it had. Been for nothing. “You were there at his funeral with the rest of us, your eyes down, your face solemn. All the while, you were getting just what you wanted. A boy had to die, unfortunately, but you got your press, didn’t you?” She turned back. “You sold your bloody records.”
“I’ve devoted nearly half my life to them.” Pete took a long, calming breath. “I shaped and I molded, I made deals, listened to their problems. Solved them. Who do you think made sure they got everything that was coming to them? Who made certain that the record company didn’t play any games with royalties? Who fought so that they would reach the top?”
She took a step toward him. There was enough of a need to survive to stop her when he motioned with the gun. “Do you think they needed you?” she spat out. “Do you really believe that you mattered?”
“I made them.”
“No. They made you.”
Saying nothing, he reached in his pocket. “Be that as it may, even what happens tonight will add to the legend. Brian and Johnno are odds-on favorites for Song of the Year. With a bit of luck, the group will pick up a couple more for Best Performance, Rock, and Best Album. I’d thought it a nice touch for you to hand out the award. Brian’s daughter, and the tragic widow of Drew Larimer. Tragedies sell,” he said