Jude’s Song (A Hidden Beauty Novel Book 7) Read online

  I hope I haven’t made a huge mistake that could cost us everything.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JUDE

  I TRIED TO PLAY IT cool, but I pretty much had a stroke when Tasha told Aidan about my stage fright. I don’t know what she was thinking, but confessing my weakness was about the last thing I ever wanted to do.

  At first, I was furious with Tasha. I left the studios at Silent Beats without even talking to her. I was so embarrassed; I wasn’t sure how to cope. I don’t know why she felt she had to tell Aidan my business. If I wanted him to know, I would’ve told him. Now he’ll think of me as some strange, defective singer he has to keep an eye on. I never wanted that to happen. This totally sucks.

  When I got home and told Fernanda what happened, she basically told me to get over myself. She hasn’t even met Tasha yet, but she firmly believes Tasha has my back. My sister’s reaction surprised me because Fernanda doesn’t usually trust anyone.

  I’ve been hiding in the bus because I don’t know what to say when I finally come face to face with Tasha. It’s obvious I’m trying to avoid her, but it’s awkward with a crew this small. I really need to get my crap together and decide what I’m going to do.

  I’m busy arranging Delilah’s drum set in the luggage compartment of the bus when Aidan taps me on the shoulder. “That’s a real nice thing you’re doing for Tash. It takes a huge weight off her shoulders. I need her to be able to concentrate today. We’ve got a limited time to lay down these tracks before we have to leave.”

  I’m confused for a moment until Aidan hands me Tasha’s phone. In all the drama surrounding her unexpected disclosure, I forgot that I agreed to babysit her cell phone today. I shrug as I say, “It’s a temporary solution to a much bigger problem. I wish I knew how to help her with the rest of it.”

  “You’re not the only one. I don’t know the best way to get her out of the situation with her mom. I guess we’ll do what she allows us to do. There isn’t any other way to approach it. I can’t ban telephones on set because we use them so much in our jobs — but her mom has no sense of boundaries.”

  I take her phone and set it on the seat of the bus. “Well, you can count on me. She won’t have to deal with it today unless the world implodes.”

  “You’re a good guy. I’ve never had any doubts,” Aidan says with a smile. “Just watch out for Tasha’s mom. Nadine has some wicked claws once you get to know her.”

  I raise my eyebrows in surprise. It’s not like Aidan to talk about other performers. It’s even more rare for him to talk about our families.

  “Word to the wise, don’t tell Tasha I said that. She has enough to worry about without stressing over her mother’s behavior.”

  “I think I can handle everything on my own. Ms. Keeley won’t be the first disagreeable person I’ve ever dealt with in my life.”

  “True enough,” Aidan says as he tilts his head to examine me. “I guess I better get to it. I’ll see you on the other side. If you have time, you could come check Tash out. We’re singing a pretty heavy-duty love ballad. Something tells me you’d be more of an inspiration to her in that realm than I am.”

  I can’t help but be a little embarrassed. “I don’t know about that. I’m a huge fan of Tasha, both as a performer and as a person, but sometimes our relationship is confusing. Still, doesn’t it get weird for you to have your wife watch you sing a love song with someone else? I don’t want to make it awkward for Tasha.”

  “If it was just a voyeuristic fan, that would be one thing. I love having Gracie visit the studio when I’m recording. It reminds me of all the reasons I do what I do. I think Tasha would feel much the same about you. She doesn’t feel anything mushy for me, that’s for sure. It would probably be great for her to have a muse around.”

  I try to ignore the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck. “Okay, when I finish up here I’ll see if I’ve got time to stop by and visit. I’d love to see you working together. Usually when you two perform on the road, I’m backstage or under the stage dealing with stuff and I don’t actually get a chance to watch the two of you.”

  “Good plan. Speaking of plans, pack yourself a couple of guitars and anything else you play. This is a long road trip, you’ll probably want to jam with us.”

  As I stand up straight, I almost hit my head on the door to the luggage compartment on the bus. I’m shocked by Aidan’s offer and I’m not exactly sure how to respond. I have two choices here: I can figuratively throw Tasha under the bus and deny I have any issues singing in public or I can be honest and tell him exactly what’s going on.

  As Aidan stands there calmly waiting for my answer, I decide I don’t have much to lose by being honest. Tasha was right. Of all the people on the planet, Aidan needs to know what’s going on if I want to stay on with Aidan and take a different path. Taking a deep breath, I confess, “I’ve wanted to be part of those jam sessions ever since my first week here — but I don’t know if I’m ready to handle it.”

  Aidan narrows his eyes and nods slowly. “Jude, relax. I know exactly where you’re coming from. You might not know my whole story, but I used to have normal hearing. After I lost it, it took me years to regain my confidence to stand on stage — especially as a singer. Many times, I was afraid I’d never find the courage to be who I needed to be to be happy.”

  “Really? You’ve had so much fear about singing that you feel like you’re going to pass out?” I ask, dumbfounded by his candid admission.

  ‘Sometimes I still have that kind of fear. I don’t know if it ever truly goes away completely. I like to think it keeps me on my toes.”

  “Wow, I guess I thought I was the only one who dealt with this.” I’m barely able to keep my voice from cracking.

  “No, we all live with it. It’s what makes what we do so edgy and unpredictable.” Aidan points at me. “You are planning to be part of the jam sessions, right? My crew will treat you right.”

  I finally summon up the courage to stammer, “Yes sir. I appreciate the opportunity.”

  Aidan isn’t gone long before Tasha’s phone begins to ring. I run into the bus to grab it. “Hello?”

  “You’re not Tasha! Why do you have her phone? Who are you? Have you done something to my daughter?”

  She’s yelling so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Mrs. Keeley, Tasha is fine. She’s in the middle of a recording session with Mr. O’Brien. I agreed to watch her phone in case something happened to her grandmother.”

  “It’s Ms. Keeley. There is no Mr. Keeley. Oh for Pete’s sake! Dottie is fine. The way my child worries about her Nana is sickening. She doesn’t worry that much about me. If she did, she would answer her own darn phone.”

  “Mrs. — Ms. Keeley,” I correct myself. “I’m sorry. It’s not possible for Tasha to have her phone right now. She’s in the middle of recording.”

  “Well, can’t she just stop the song for me? I am her mother after all. I heard that musicians don’t really sing on those CDs anyway. It’s all electronic gibberish. A computer could probably sing better than Tasha. I don’t think Mr. O’Brien is doing any favors for my daughter’s career. She’d do much better in pageants where people could see her true personality and talent without all the distortion.”

  The longer I listen to Ms. Keeley, the more I understand Tasha’s anxiety about answering the phone. No wonder Aidan said she has claws. It seems as if she has a few teeth as well as a couple of chips on her shoulder.

  “Ms. Keeley, I don’t know if you’ve heard Tasha perform recently, but I have the privilege of hearing her every day. There’s nothing manufactured or artificial about her voice. She is simply magnificent.”

  “Are you dense?” She spits the words at me as if they’re bullets. “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t have to tell me my daughter is talented. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. She’s too talented to be following around a washed up piano player like some over-grown groupie. She should be front and center, on her own with
her name in lights.”

  I sigh as I respond, “No, ma’am I’m not dense. I’m not as smart as Tasha, but I can hold my own. Was there a message you wanted me to give to your daughter?”

  “Yes, you can tell my daughter there’s a reunion of Miss Fantabulous pageant girls in New York City next month. I expect her to be there and show these women how it’s done.”

  “I can let her know, ma’am, but next month is going to be incredibly busy. We have several concert dates.”

  “I don’t know who you think you are, young man. You don’t speak for my daughter. She’s not busy until she tells me she’s busy.”

  “With all due respect ma’am, my name is Jude Hernandez. I’m the equipment manager. I know the schedule better than anyone because I arrange for everything to be transported. I happen to know we barely have any breathing room between gigs next month. I thought it might be helpful for you to know that.”

  “Jude! Did you say your name is Jude? Don’t mention that name in my presence. I hate the name Jude and anything related to cancer.”

  “I understand. It must’ve been terribly difficult when Tasha had leukemia. If it makes you feel any better, you can call me Judas,” I respond, emphasizing my Spanish accent. “Or Vincente — that’s my middle name.”

  “I should’ve known you’d be named after a traitor,” she responds snidely. “I’d rather speak to my daughter directly. Have her call me as soon as she’s free.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell her you called.”

  “You do that. Don’t be playing any games. If I don’t hear from her, I’ll be calling her back.” The phone suddenly goes dead.

  Not even a half an hour later, the phone rings again and I roll my eyes. I fully expect it to be Ms. Keeley and I’m all wound up to let her have it for calling so quickly. As soon as I answer the phone, it’s clear I’ve made a grave mistake.

  I hear a distorted voice say, “Bitch, check your messages.”

  As soon as the line goes dead, I search her phone for her message app. I immediately click on it and then regret my decision as a full-color picture of Tasha’s face unfolds before me. It’s Tasha’s face but not her body being mutilated by a garrote. Someone has Photoshopped Tasha’s face onto a body which is obviously not hers. The message attached says, “I gave you a chance to talk to me, but you chose to ignore me. This is what will happen if you ignore me again.”

  My hands are shaking so violently I almost drop her phone.

  Who in the world would send such garbage? Why hasn’t Tasha told me there’s some sort of threat against her? Apparently, this isn’t the first time she’s communicated with this freak.

  I spend several moments frozen in the bus seat staring at the gruesome picture, paralyzed with indecision. My first instinct is to go find Logan, who’s been providing security for us. Yet, I know Tasha is really private about her personal life and I don’t know if this is related to her life as a performer or some personal drama I don’t know about. Even though it seems like a violation of her privacy, I try to look back at the history on her phone to see if I can find any clues. Unfortunately, there’s nothing there. Not even messages from her mom.

  Tasha’s phone looks completely different from Fernanda’s. My sister has every conversation she’s ever had with everyone since the time she first got her phone when she turned sixteen. I think she has every selfie she’s ever taken too. The absence of any personal information on Tasha’s phone seems very strange.

  As I am considering my options, another text message arrives. I open it with a great deal of trepidation. “Bitch, I warned you. You have twenty-four hours to decide what to do. Make the wrong decision and you will pay.”

  Attached to the text message is a .GIF file of a pig carcass exploding. I recognize the shot from an episode of Myth Busters. Even so, it’s chilling. My stomach lurches and a shiver goes up my spine.

  Just then, someone taps on the bus window and I about jump out of the seat. I look up and see Tasha smiling at me.

  She peeks her head in the bus door and cheerfully asks, “Hi, what are you doing?”

  I set her phone down on the seat next to me as I respond, “Oh, a little of everything. Getting ready for a bus tour is crazy.”

  “So, you can be honest with me … How many times did my mom call?”

  “Only once — but it’s safe to say she’s not my biggest fan.”

  Tasha sits next to me and slumps down in the seat. “I was afraid of that. What did she want this time?”

  “Apparently, there’s a reunion of one of your pageant events next month in New York and she’d like you to attend.”

  “Next month? Is she delusional? I have a job. Next month is absolutely packed from start to finish,” Tasha exclaims.

  “I know, I tried to explain — which is why she is not my biggest fan. She thinks I don’t know what I’m doing and that I couldn’t possibly know about your schedule. She would like you to call her back at your earliest convenience.”

  Tasha laughs dryly. “Oh, I bet she does.”

  She reaches down to the bus seat and tries to grab her phone. I place my hand over hers. “Sirena, that’s not the only thing which happened while you were gone. I don’t know how to tell you this without upsetting you — but you got a couple of really disturbing messages too.”

  Tasha rakes her hands through her hair in an aggravated fashion. “Oh Gosh! Don’t tell me Creepy Stalker Dude is back.”

  “What? This has happened to you before?” I ask, shock making my jaw slack.

  A frightened look crosses Tasha’s face. “Yeah, I know all about him.” She pauses a beat or two before shrugging and adding, “Actually, that’s not true. I don’t even know if it’s a him, I just assume it is because who else would send me naked pictures of someone who isn’t even me, but whatever —”

  “Have you told anybody? Does Aidan know? What about Logan? Have you called the police? I’m assuming you haven’t told your mom because she would go high and to the right.”

  Tasha appears frustrated. “No. I haven’t done any of that. I changed my cell phone number, I took my contact information off my fan page, and I don’t go anywhere by myself. I figured they didn’t need to know all about what was going on with me. Aidan doesn’t need one more thing to worry about. If I’m going to be somebody in this business, I need to learn how to watch out for myself.”

  It’s all I can do not to grind my teeth as I hold back what I want to say. Finally, I compose myself enough to respond. “Tasha, fans can be absolutely crazy and obsessed. You need to use the tools that are there to protect you. There’s a reason Aidan pays big bucks to employ people like Logan. He doesn’t just hire college kids looking for a summer job, he hires ex-military and ex-law enforcement folks. He takes safety seriously. You need to let them know what’s going on. It doesn’t seem like this guy is messing around.”

  “The police probably can’t do anything. I don’t even know who this person is and I’ve already taken all the safety steps they recommend on the Internet. I mean, after all, they’re just a few text messages. For all I know, it’s some thirteen-year-old kid trying to show off for his buddies.”

  I take a deep breath before I plead, “Tasha, please trust me on this. I have a feeling it’s bigger than something like that. Just promise me you’ll tell Aidan what’s going on so he can have somebody deal with this. If you’ve already changed your phone number and contact information and this person tracked you down, it’s over-the-top-freaky. This person is more persistent than your average, everyday prankster. You need to pay attention. I’m worried about your safety.”

  She bites her bottom lip before she concedes, “I promise I will tell him — but I can’t do it right now. We’re in the middle of recording. We just had to take a break because we had to change a fuse. I should get back. They’re probably waiting for me.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes. I have to put some mic stands in the bus.”

  It’s really different bein
g on this side of the glass. The sound engineer, Jimmy, invited me to sit next to him and watch Aidan and Tasha record. Tasha’s completely lost in the lyrics of the romantic ballad. She doesn’t even realize I’m in the recording booth. I feel a little like a voyeur. For people who don’t know Aidan and Tasha, it would be easy to believe they’re very much a couple in love. Their performance is that convincing. At least it is until Aidan messes up a lyric and lets a cuss word slip.

  Tasha lets out a surprised chortle of laughter. “You are so busted. You can’t even deny it because it’s on tape,” she snickers. “At the rate you’re going, there’ll be enough money in the swear jar for you and Tara to go to London sooner than you planned.”

  Aidan looks a little like a kid whose been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yeah, you’d think I would know the lyrics to the song better than that — since I wrote it and all. Maybe it’s my subconscious letting me know I need to take my lovely wife on vacation. Things have been tough lately. Maybe a trip to London is exactly what we need.”

  “Does Tara like to watch the famous ballet companies perform, or does it make her sad?” Tasha asks.

  Aidan looks befuddled for a second before he answers, “I can’t believe I’ve never asked her that question before. When she performed with my brother, she was at the top of her game, but that was years ago. I don’t know how she feels about watching other principal dancers.”

  “Maybe I’m a closet romantic, but I can see you taking her on a whirlwind tour around the world seeing the top ballet companies.”

  Aidan kisses Tasha on the forehead. “For such a young squirt, you are incredibly brilliant. I’ve been racking my brain for months trying to come up with the perfect anniversary gift. I wasn’t planning to tour in February anyway, so the timing would be perfect.”

  Tasha blushes clear to the roots of her hair. “I’m glad I could help, but I still think you should take her on vacation before February.”