Always Watching Read Online Free Page A

security guards opened. Mom appeared, Mick alongside. She caught my eye and began walking toward me with purpose. In her concert clothes — the straight-legged jeans and red high heels, an Ella Moss top — she looked every bit the star, even though her face was grim, her usually lithe movements tense. The policeman ogled her as she passed. Mick gave him a hard look.
    Jerry glanced around and saw her coming. He stepped out of her way.
    Mom drew up, her expression pinched.
    “Shaley, let’s go in there.” She pointed to the suite where I’d been. “We need to talk.”

6
    A ll around the arena, red lights ripped the night, slashing across the countless police officers scurrying here and there with such self-importance. He leaned against the glass, looking down on all the activity. From here in the soundproof building he could hear nothing. But he imagined the shouts and police radios and car doors slamming.
    All this chaos — thanks to
him.
    He smiled.
    A policeman strode by, talking into the radio attached to his shoulder.
    He stifled a laugh. All these uniforms hustling around looking for a killer — and there he stood. Right in front of their faces.
    He’d already given his statement to one police officer. He’d seen nothing, knew nothing.
    Cops were morons. Not to mention unjust. In his previous existence, they’d liked nothing better than putting him behind bars. First time at age sixteen. He hadn’t deserved that.
    Last time he got out, he’d vowed it—no more jail. Never again. For by then he had a new mission in life. He’d been sent to watch the Special One.
    He slipped parole and secured a new identity. Now his past was wiped clean.
    “Hey.” One of his fellow workers appeared beside him, arms folded and pulled tightly to his chest. Guy looked nervous. “This is insane, isn’t it?”
    “Totally.”
    “I can’t believe this happened.”
    “Me either.”
    Down below, a new police car carved to a stop outside the building. The driver’s door opened, and a cop hurried out.
    “It’s so terrible.” The man next to him sighed. “Poor Tom.”
    “Yeah. Poor Tom.”
    He ran a hand over his mouth, hiding his smile.

7
    N erves prickling, I followed Mom into the suite. She sat down on the couch, patted the cushion beside her. I sank into it.
    Mick took up residence just outside the door. Opposite him I could see Bruce’s trouser leg and one huge dangling hand. Doubly guarded.
    Without a word, Mom hugged me. I leaned against her, soaking in her comfort.
    She let me go too soon.
    I clutched my hands. “What are they doing down there? It’s taking forever.”
    “They’re gathering evidence. That’s all I know.”
    “Why aren’t they talking to
me?
I’m the one who found him. I’m the one who saw him last.”
    “They’re about to. A detective’s coming up here in a minute. He’ll want to hear everything.”
    I firmed my mouth. “It’s about time.”
    Mom thrust her long red fingernails into her hair. “Look, I know this is a terrible time to talk about this, but a lot is happening at once. You need to know we may have to stop the tour.”
    I blinked. The tour had been the last thing on my mind. “Why?”
    She lifted a hand. “It’s in every contract that we can cancel venues if some disaster happens. And this certainly qualifies.”
    “You mean we might just stop everything and go home?”
    “I don’t know. Ross has to figure it out.”
    I stared at her. “That’s what you all were talking about in there? The
tour?”
    “Like I said, it’s a bad time.” She rubbed her temple. “But it’s reality.”
    “Maybe it is reality, but —
already?
I thought you all were in there talking about Tom. Who might have killed him —”
    “We
were,
Shaley.”
    “Obviously not for very long.”
    “Why are you snapping at me?” Her voice sharpened.
    Tears bit my eyes. “Because it sounds like you don’t even care.”
    “Of
course
I care.”
    “About what? Tom or the tour?”
    Mom