Authors: Megan Crane
‘Not love.’ He sighed. ‘The truth is, I can’t figure out how you could possibly know about that song. I mean, what are the odds that you would guess it? I’m not even a particularly big U2 fan.’ He considered. ‘Although I do like the new single.’
‘“Where The Streets Have No Name”,’ Jenna said, and surprised Tommy with a laugh. ‘I don’t think I’ve been able to listen to that song all the way through since the mid-Nineties. That’s how overplayed it is.’
‘That’s crazy,’ Tommy said, but without any accusation in his voice. She frowned. ‘What you just said is completely, unarguably crazy.’
She opened her mouth to say something, and he put his finger over her lips. She trembled. Heat coiled inside of him, and he knew she could see it on his face.
‘I can’t wrap my head around it,’ he said quietly, seriously. ‘But you’re the most sane person I know. So I believe you. I don’t know how any of what you’re saying can be
true, but I believe you. It can’t be any crazier than a born loser from a trailer park outside of Buffalo becoming a rock star, right? And I don’t think I care, as long as we’re together.’
Jenna’s eyes shone. She reached over and took his face between her hands.
‘I love you,’ she managed to choke out. ‘I’m not crazy. I promise.’
‘I love you too,’ he said, and couldn’t help smiling. So what if it was raining and nothing made sense? So what if she thought he would die before the dawn? He felt like bursting into song. ‘So … what do we do now?’
It was an excellent question. Jenna blinked. In all the scenarios she’d run through her head, none of them had involved Tommy showing up at her door and spontaneously
believing
her. So much for her plans for great martyrdom and sacrifice.
‘We get the hell out of New York City,’ she said, pulling back from him. ‘I know that you go to this party, and then afterwards you die. So let’s avoid the whole thing. Let’s go to … I don’t know, Maine. We’ll stay in a bed and breakfast near Penobscot Bay and come back a week from now, safe as houses.’
‘Penobscot Bay?’ He shook his head at her.
‘I’ve always wanted to go there.’ Jenna shrugged. ‘Granted, I always wanted to go in the summer, but beggars can’t be choosers.’
‘Why will I be safe a week from now?’ Tommy asked, sounding far too reasonable. ‘Why won’t Richie just wait?’
Jenna frowned. ‘I don’t know. Everything I know leads up to this night.’
Tommy shook his head. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘What makes sense? We’re talking about time travel!’
‘No, we’re talking about my untimely death.’ He tapped her on the nose with a long finger.
‘Well,’ Jenna said, ‘thank you for that condescending gesture, but—’
‘We have to figure out why,’ Tommy said, cutting her off. She wanted to push his wet curls back from his forehead, but restrained herself. ‘Otherwise, what’s to keep him from trying and trying until he gets it right?’
‘I told you why.’ Jenna willed him to finally listen to her. ‘Money, Tommy. Lots and lots of money.’
‘He could ask for a loan,’ Tommy pointed out. ‘That’s what normal people do, isn’t it? You don’t jump right over
loan
and go to
murder
without a good reason.’
‘Obviously, he hates you,’ Jenna said matter-of-factly, earning a dark glare. Jenna thought that most people, upon finally exchanging
I love yous
, probably did not stand about in the rain discussing time travel, death, and murder. She and Tommy certainly were unique little snowflakes, weren’t they?
‘You’re talking about someone I’ve known for over a decade,’ Tommy said, choosing his words carefully. ‘I need a little more than that. I think we should go to the party and see if we can figure out why he chooses tonight to kill me.’
‘This is the part in every movie ever made where the
audience starts screaming at the screen,’ Jenna informed him. ‘You are walking into your own deathtrap. It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘We’ve fingered three other people for this already,’ Tommy pointed out. ‘Duncan, Eugenia, Nick.’ He grinned. ‘Four, if I count you. Who’s to say it won’t turn out to be Sebastian in a surprise twist?’
‘I really think—’
‘I want to go to this party,’ Tommy said, his gaze serious. ‘I want to look each and every one of them in the eye. I want to know why. Will you do that with me, Jenna? Please?’
And what exactly was she supposed to say to that?
‘Yes,’ she said. She sighed. ‘Okay. But we have to be careful.’
Except there was no need to be careful, Jenna discovered a few hours later, as she clung to her champagne glass. The party was boring, setting aside the many stares she was getting thanks to her decidedly uncool outfit, or maybe it was the presence of her supposedly stalkery self with no security team around Tommy, and more to the point, Richie wasn’t even there.
‘Oh, you know Richie,’ Sebastian murmured, smiling blandly.
‘Not really,’ Jenna replied. Tommy was across the room, fending off a cross-examination from both Duncan and Eugenia – and Jenna knew the topic under discussion was her. Something about Duncan’s murderous glare, directed right at her head, clued her in. She turned her attention
back to Sebastian, who appeared to be drinking his way through the bar’s entire selection of Scotch.
‘Duncan’s furious because he thinks he wasted money on security when it was only a bit of romance gone awry,’ Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. ‘He’ll get over it.’ He clinked his glass to hers. ‘Congratulations, by the way. I’ve never seen Tommy care at all, about any woman. You’re a first. And I would have said you’re not at all his type.’
Jenna couldn’t deny the thrill that raced through her at the first part of that statement, but she could try to hide it, especially with the unnecessary second part.
‘His type is what, exactly?’ she asked. She nodded across the room. ‘Eugenia? That’s worked out well.’
‘Touché,’ Sebastian murmured. ‘I suppose I’m surprised he’s finally chosen someone who isn’t an intellectual void.’ He looked arch. ‘Tommy is not the dummy he sometimes pretends to be.’
‘You don’t seem like a dummy yourself,’ Jenna said. She eyed him. He looked drunk, and he had struck up this conversation, not her. ‘But I can’t get a handle on Richie. Is he fascinating in private?’
Sebastian laughed, and took a drink from his glass.
‘Why are you so interested in Richie?’ he asked, his gaze assessing despite the laughter. ‘Believe me, you don’t want to be one of his extra-curricular activities. And I can guarantee you that Tommy won’t accept it.’
‘You think I want to … ?’ Jenna couldn’t finish the sentence. Sebastian only gazed at her. She felt her face redden. ‘I thought Richie was gay.’
‘I’m gay,’ Sebastian said. He waved a hand in the air. ‘On good days I think Richie can go either way. On bad days, I suspect the way he goes has more to do with opportunity than desire.’ He laughed again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I must have drunk more Scotch than I should have.’
‘Then why are you with him?’ Jenna asked softly. ‘You could be with anyone.’
‘Fear,’ Sebastian said, with a wry smile. ‘Loneliness. And don’t forget love. That’s the kicker. That’s the one that always tears your guts out, isn’t it?’ He sighed when he saw Jenna’s expression. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m always maudlin after a fight. It hasn’t broken us up yet.’
He excused himself shortly thereafter.
Jenna was stilling mulling it all over when Tommy walked up to her, and settled himself next to her on the couch. After Sebastian had abandoned her, she’d stationed herself in prime position, where she could scan the whole room – the better to enjoy the way they scowled at her dowdiness and complete inappropriateness for a superstar like Tommy Seer.
The truth was, Jenna kind of liked the fact that she was dressed for a grunt mission, and all these sparkling beauties had to stand around and wonder what she had that they didn’t. In fact, she kind of loved it.
‘No fight with Eugenia,’ Tommy announced. ‘If anything, she thought Duncan was being too harsh. And still no sign of Richie.’
‘Sebastian and he had a fight,’ Jenna said, tearing her
attention away from a leggy redhead who was scowling at her.
‘And Sebastian got all bitter and a little bit nasty,’ Tommy said, sounding bored. ‘Blah blah blah. It’s like clockwork.’
‘That’s kind of what he said.’ Jenna shrugged. ‘And also that Richie is bi. Did you know that?’
‘Sure.’ Tommy shrugged. ‘If it’s hot, Richie wants to nail it.’ He looked amused. ‘You know they have an open relationship, right? Are you interested? Is that why you’re asking?’
Jenna made a face. ‘Let’s survive 1987,’ she suggested. ‘Then we can discuss the parameters of our relationship.’
‘That’s not a no, I notice,’ Tommy said, grinning. ‘Maybe women from the future are more open-minded than the ones in the Eighties. Hope springs eternal.’
Jenna only shook her head at him.
An hour later they were both fed up. There was no sign of Richie, and no reason for them to be suffering through a boring party. Even though nothing had happened – or seemed likely to happen – Jenna felt antsy.
‘You wanted to come, so we came,’ she said finally. ‘Can we go now? Can we disappear for a while? Penobscot Bay, Tommy. Little islands. Pine trees.’
‘We can leave this stupid party, anyway,’ Tommy said, smiling his rock-star smile for the benefit of the public. ‘Liz Smith is giving us the evil eye.’
Jenna felt relief surge through her as they walked through the lobby of the hotel. She didn’t know why, exactly, and it quickly subsided. Nothing seemed to be
going the way she’d expected it to. Eugenia had barely spoken to Tommy, and certainly hadn’t fought with him. And yet Jenna still had that itchy feeling, as if it was all about to go bad.
‘I suppose Eugenia could have told everyone you had a fight later,’ she mused aloud. ‘That would make her seem more central to your death, after all, when maybe it had nothing to do with her. And maybe if she didn’t manufacture a fight, someone might remember that she was way more interested in Duncan Paradis than her doomed fiancé that night.’
Tommy shot her a look as they stepped outside.
‘What an imagination you have,’ he murmured after he handed his ticket to the practically genuflecting valet. ‘Are you sure you don’t work in PR?’
‘Very funny,’ Jenna said with a laugh. She curled her hand around Tommy’s arm, and was about to say something else when she saw the figure walking towards them.
Richie.
Jenna froze.
Tommy looked up, and Jenna felt him tense, though his expression didn’t alter.
‘Richie,’ he said, by way of greeting.
‘Already leaving?’ Richie asked, with an edge to his voice. He looked at Jenna much like she was a worm. Then back at Tommy. ‘You’re back with Loony Tunes?’
So when Richie decided to start talking in her vicinity it was all about name-calling. Nice. Jenna fixed a polite
expression on her face, and tried to rise above the Loony Tunes comment.
‘The party’s pretty boring,’ Tommy said calmly. ‘No surprise. You okay? You look tense.’
‘I’m terrific,’ Richie muttered. But he looked tweaked, and twitchy, and Jenna didn’t think that was her imagination working overtime.
The valet roared up in Tommy’s sleek, ferocious car. Jenna happily climbed inside. Tommy gave Richie a slap on the shoulder, then walked around to the driver’s side.
‘Drive safe,’ Richie said in a snide kind of tone – and it gave Jenna chills. But then she remembered that she was the only one who knew what had happened – would happen – tonight. Wasn’t she?
Was Richie threatening Tommy? Or was he just saying something for the sake of saying something, and sounding dark and strange because – hell – he was dark and strange?
Tommy put the car in gear, and Jenna tried to convince herself that it was a coincidence.
Which was hard to do when she turned around, and saw Richie standing there with an angry look on his face, staring after them as they drove away.
‘Tell me more about the crash,’ Tommy said as he manoeuvred the car through the rain-slick Manhattan streets. His mind was racing. He’d had the most amazing thought. ‘The car – this car – goes over the bridge, but how?’
‘No one knows exactly,’ Jenna said. She frowned, as if she was picturing it, which Tommy found creepy. Maybe
it would be strange
not
to find a discussion of the particulars of your own death creepy.
‘And my body was never found. Only the empty car.’
‘The empty, crushed car,’ Jenna said. She shifted in her seat, and he could feel her eyes on him. ‘It wasn’t pretty, let me assure you.’
‘Of course it wasn’t pretty,’ Tommy said absently. ‘This car is a work of art. It’s not just a
vehicle.
Crashing it is a sin.’
‘I was more concerned with the part where you died,’ Jenna said drily. ‘But we can mourn the car, too, if you want.’
He heard her, and wanted to laugh or throw the appropriate comeback her way, but the idea in his head was picking up speed and consuming everything else in its path.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘You have the weirdest look on your face.’
‘Jenna,’ Tommy said slowly, jerking the car to the side of the road and stamping on the brake so he could turn to face her. She threw out a hand to brace herself. ‘What if this isn’t about my death? What if this is about
escaping
?’
‘What are you talking about?’ She was still bracing herself against the door.
‘Think about it. No body was ever found. Maybe that’s because there wasn’t one to find.’
‘I liked
Eddie and the Cruisers
too,’ Jenna said slowly, shaking her head. ‘But it was a
movie
, Tommy.’
‘I’m not talking about a movie,’ Tommy said impatiently. ‘I’m talking about my life. I could just … walk away.’
Jenna was quiet for a long moment. Tommy was already envisioning it. A small cabin somewhere, up on a mountain. Just the two of them, and his guitar. It sounded like perfection.
‘I think you’re too famous to disappear,’ Jenna said, shattering the image of a mountainside. ‘Where can you go where people won’t recognize you?’ She put a hand on his leg when he turned to her. ‘I understand the fantasy, Tommy, but I don’t think you understand how—’