The entire band was over to pick up the equipment for the gig that night. Swen and Ulrika let us keep it in an unused room on the second floor. Usual y I helped with the lugging and lifting but seeing as I was on some faceless crazy criminal’s hit list for once I was going to be saved this chore.
“Al right, boys. Let’s get loaded up so we can set up.” Floyd, thankful y, decided it was time to get down to business.
“They real y gonna pat down everyone that comes into the gig?” Hugo asked me, ignoring Floyd.
“They’re going to wand them,” I explained.
Hugo nodded then said, “They go for the pat down, I’m in.”
New visions crowded my head. They were visions of Hugo patting down every female who came close to the door. Visions of Hugo’s brand of pat down made me shiver and not in a good way but in the kind of way I shivered every time I had to phone the bail bondsman, whose number, just for your information, was on my speed dial.
“I think they’re gonna stick with the wands. They’re more accurate at detecting… stuff.”
I was making this up. I had no idea which was more accurate.
“I could be pretty accurate with a pat down,” Hugo offered.
Sheesh.
“Me too,” Pong put in.
Good grief!
Hugo turned to Pong. “We could lose the sax. Half the time I’m playin’ the fuckin’ tambourine and workin’ the crowd. If anyone’s gonna get to do the pat downs, it’s me.”
“Drums aren’t that important. They do that MTV
Unplugged al the time with just guitars,” Pong told Hugo then turned to me. “You could go unplugged tonight. Shake it up a bit.”
Unplugged?
Shake it up a bit?
Okay, enough.
I put my hands on my hips, narrowed my eyes and leaned in. “We are not gonna go unplugged and you two are not gonna do any patting down of anyone. Do I make myself understood?”
“Shit, mama. Be cool,” Hugo said, putting his hands up, palms out.
“Man, I thought you gettin’ back together with Mace would mean you’d be gettin’ it regular again and you’d go back to bein’ Sweet Stel a Bel a not Stel a-on-the-rag,” Pong added.
I turned to Floyd but kept my hands on my hips. “Floyd, hit the red button on the alarm panel,” I ordered.
“Now, why would I do that?” Floyd asked, stil grinning.
“Because it’s a panic button and the police wil come immediately. I figure they’d appreciate the novelty of being cal ed before a crime occurred,” I answered.
Floyd just kept grinning. What he did not do was hit the panic button.
Whatever.
“I think that’s our cue to go,” Buzz, for the first time since they arrived, spoke.
“Man, Stel a being targeted for murder puts her in a bad mood,” Pong muttered and, fast as a snake, Floyd’s hand moved and he slapped Pong upside the back of his head.
“Don’t be stupid,” Floyd hissed under his breath.
Hugo, Leo and I were staring at Buzz. Pong’s gaze swung to him as wel . Buzz was white as a sheet.
Okay, maybe I’d rough up Hugo and Leo but I was going to kil Pong.
“Shit, sorry Buzz,” Pong murmured.
Buzz looked at Pong a beat, did a little shrug and looked at me.
“You gonna be safe up there tonight?” he asked.
I bit my bottom lip. That was the sixty-four thousand dol ar question.
Then I nodded and said, “Mace has it covered,” and I prayed to al that was holy that I wasn’t blowing sunshine up my own ass.
Buzz shook his head. “Ain’t gonna lie, I need the money.
We miss this weekend’s gigs, I’m up shit creek. I need the music too. After Linnie…”
We al held our breath.
We knew what he meant. We needed the music just as much as he did. We al loved Linnie and music was what brought her to us.
Buzz continued, “Anyway, it ain’t no good if you’re not safe.”
I walked up to Buzz and put my hand on his neck.
“Mace has it covered,” I repeated, this time softly.
Buzz stared at me, then he nodded and the band took off. Al but Floyd.
I watched them go, assessing my motley crew (okay, maybe morbidly memorizing them in case I was shot or poisoned or some such before I saw them again).
Pong was tal and skinny with a mass of thick, dark hair that he kept long, past his shoulders, and teased out in a wild mess for our performances. He also put on eyeliner which Hugo gave him shit about but even I had to admit it worked for him mainly because it made him kind of look like Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow. He had dark eyes, thick eyelashes, a heavy brow and a personality wilder than his hair (which said a lot).
Hugo was a huge black man, skin like midnight, perfect and smooth. He had broad shoulders and muscular thighs the size of tree trunks. He shaved his afro close to his skul , dressed to the nines even though the rest of the band usual y wore jeans, had an easy, wide, white smile that always reached his lazy, dark brown eyes and a deep, velvet voice that made Barry White sound like a pansy.