Ten Years Gone // Led Zeppelin

The road from Salt Creek is long. Brianna and Citizen One just closed out the small resort town's annual Moonlight festival, a three-day event featuring one musical act after another on multiple stages. Security in that type of set up is a bitch but nothing my team can't handle.

Brianna was supposed to headline last year but ended up canceling. She was dealing with a stalker, or so we thought, and shrank from the spotlight for a while. Zack took care of her while Char and I dealt with the stalker situation.

This performance was gratis because of it. Brianna paid her people out of her own pocket, out of respect to the resort's owner, Tye, and the hoops he'd had to jump through when she cancelled. And he did it with understanding rather than threatening to sue her for breach of contract. Almost unheard of in this industry. I respect the guy for it.

But that didn't mean it was an easy gig. I have an excellent security team, but some of the guys on Brianna's staff have me on edge. I don't fully trust them on gut instinct alone, but they've been vetted so I don't have a leg to stand on for termination of employment. A gut feeling isn't grounds to fire a guy and I don't want to incur a lawsuit for unlawful unemployment. We already have one of those on deck with fucking Curt. Besides, I have other issues to sort through while driving these mountain roads.

I check my phone for coverage and make the call I've been wanting to make as soon as I see bars. It rings twice before Colleen answers.

"Hey. How'd the concert go?" she asks as soon as the line connects. Just the sound of her voice after a few days away causes a reaction I don't want to analyze too deeply.

"It went as expected. No drama."

"That's good. I talked to Bree a little while ago. She said a really cute couple got engaged after the show."

"Yeah. Nice kids."

"Kids?" Colleen laughs. "They're basically the same age as me."

I swallow. "I know."

What sounds like a sigh follows. "Anyway, when are you landing?"

"I didn't fly back with them. I'm driving down the hill to Fallbrook to visit with my brother for a couple of days."

"Oh."

Is it my imagination or does she sound disappointed? I don't want to go down that path, so I keep talking, something I only seem to do with Colleen.

"I don't know him that well. My dad remarried when I was seven and had another kid, but we didn't grow up together. His girlfriend is friends with the couple that got engaged so he was at the festival."

"That's nice. Are you staying with him?"

"No. His girlfriend is a handful. I'm grabbing a hotel room so I can escape." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I sound like an asshole.

"You do like your solitude." A gentle laugh follows her words.

"I guess so." Something about that word, solitude, doesn't sit right with me but I keep that to myself. Instead, I launch into my reason for calling. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"What can you tell me about Ross Johnson?" I already know plenty, and with my brother's help I'll know damn near everything. But there's nothing as powerful as a face to face interaction with someone, and Colleen's had that with the asshole.

"How do you know that name?" Colleen's voice is full of suspicion. Her inflection gives it away. I feel like a dick going behind her back but if anything ever happened to her...

Nope. Not going there.

"Zack mentioned him. Is he the reason you turned tail and ran from your hometown, because that's the impression Zack gave me."

"No. He's not. Why?"

I try reading into her tone. She sounds frustrated. I push ahead anyway. This is too important.

"Did he ever threaten you?" I can't stop the gravel in my voice. Just the thought of someone treating her like that causes it without any effort on my part. "Because I know his history with Zack."

Colleen is silent on the other end for long enough to catch my attention.

"What history?" she finally asks.

I rub my chin whiskers while steering with one hand. "He's one of the guys who gave Zack a hard time growing up. That's what got him into karate when he was a kid. To keep the bullies from getting the upper hand."

"Are you sure it was Ross?"

"You don't believe Zack?"

Colleen clears her throat. When she speaks next, I can imagine her closing her eyes and dropping her head to the back of the couch like she does when she's stressed.

"It's not that." Her voice is quiet. "I believe him. But I don't think Ross is any kind of threat. No one you need to worry about, Clint."

The way she says Clint sends a chill through my entire body. I grip the steering wheel with both hands again as I navigate the winding mountain roads. Its sunny and warm today, early in the summer, but suddenly I'm having a hard time seeing the road in front of me.

"I worry about everyone," I say, keeping my focus tight on the task at hand and doing a shit job of it.

"I know you do. But you should dial that back before you give yourself a stroke. You can't protect the entire world."

I say nothing. I'm not trying to protect the world. Just my world.

"I'll drop it." For now. But in about 20 minutes, I'll be looking over Frank's shoulder, my brother the homicide detective, and watching as he runs a background check on Ross Johnson. If we find anything, that guy better pray he never crosses my path.

"Good. Drive safe. I'll see you when you get back?"

It's spoken as a question but one she never needs to ask.

"Of course. I'll see you in a couple days."

***

I knock on Frank's door, hoping he answers and not his girlfriend. She's nuts. My shitty luck. Misty is the one to answer the door.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

And yeah, she's still nuts. I walk past her into the living room of their small bungalow style cottage, noting her lemony scent and blue streaked hair. I've had enough of her after a couple days in the mountains. I don't know how Frank can deal with her energy.

"Is he here?"

Misty crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. "No, hello? Thanks for opening your home to me? I appreciate the effort? Nothing? You're manners are non-existent."

I speak without looking at her, my eyes still scanning the place for any sign of my brother. "Hello. Thanks for opening your home. I appreciate the effort. Now, where is Frank?"

Misty shakes her head while pointing down the hall. "Last door on the left. He's doing whatever background check you ordered."

I wave my thanks to her and lumber down the hall to the open door on the left.

"You better say thank you! Your brother is WORKING on his day off!"

I throw my hand to the ceiling in a 'got it' gesture but don't bother with any other response. It's better not to get her started because I don't think she has an off switch. Her very first encounter with my brother was to tell him what a shitty detective he is. Not sure how they ended up together but I am sure it's not a story I want to hear.

I get to the doorway. Looking in I see my brother staring at a computer screen at what resembles a rap sheet. He's got documents scattered around the desk and on the floor in a haphazard way. This can't be his office. My brother is an uptight neat freak, but this place looks like a tornado.

"Is that Frank or did someone snatch his body and take his place?" I glance around, making sure not to step on anything other than carpet. The weirdest game of lava I've ever played.

"Yeah, yeah." Without looking away from his screen, Frank leans over to grab the other rolling office chair in the room and drag it closer to him. "Have a seat."

I would but it, too, is covered with papers, pens, file folders and sticky notes.

"What the hell happened in here?" I remove a few items from the chair before giving up and sitting on whatever's left.

Frank finally lifts his eyes from the computer as though coming out of a trance.

"Oh. Cat," he says, shrugging.

"A cat did this?" I look around again, more horrified than before. "How did some cat get in here?"

"Not some cat. Misty's cat. Bonkers."

"Yeah, it's bonkers all right."

"That's its name."

I can't help it. I laugh. "Bonkers?" If there was ever a more fitting name for that chick's cat...

"He's cute." Frank shrugs.

"Oh my god, you are fucking whipped. You willingly let a cat named Bonkers into your office lair? Last time I was here you practically padlocked the door."

Frank sighs. Deeply. He better get used to that feeling right there. He's about to sign up for a lifetime of that feeling if I'm reading him right. He's practically wifed her up already, what with moving her in and sharing a fucking crazy cat.

"Can we focus?" he asks.

"Of course." I have no problem staying focused. I drop my razzing and lean over to take a look. "Is this what you found on Ross?" I glance at the screen full of misdemeanor offences, noting it looks to have at least another page of charges.

"Not Ross, but one of the guys in his circle." Frank points to a name. "Don Goodall." Then he clicks on another tab, points to another name. "Glen Hopper." He scrolls the page to show another laundry list of charges against this guy. It reads like the first page, charges for threats, assault, harassment and disturbing the peace. Frank clicks on the last tab and Ross's name finally shows up. His list is shorter but similar, minus the assault charges.

"Guilty on any of these?" I ask as I lean in to get a closer look.

"Negative. His buddies must have some good luck or someone on the inside doing them favors. Nothing stuck." Frank spins in his chair to look me in the eyes. "These are no threat. Small town, small minded assholes who've skirted consequences their entire lives because they have connections. But if they were to try to threaten a pop star they'd go down."

I nod my head even as I disagree with him. It's the guys you overlook that do the most damage. However, it's not Brianna I'm worried about.

"Do me a favor?"

"Depends. Tell me what it is before I agree."

"Now, where's that energy when Misty brings a feral cat into your sacred space?"

Frank throws a glare my way. I laugh, raising my hands in surrender.

"Caveman mode is noted. I'll back off. I need to to keep tabs on this Ross guy. If he gets into anything else, leaves town, wipes his nose the wrong way. Anything unusual , I want to be notified."

Frank leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and gives me the once over.

"I'm assuming there's more at stake than you're telling me."

I mirror Frank's posture, crossing my arms and schooling my expression. "You've assumed correctly."

He nods. "Okay. I trust your instincts. I'll put a trace on him, set up an automatic notification if he pops up on any radar, that kind of thing."

I should feel a let down of this tension but I don't. I've got a sixth sense that this is far from over. Or that could be two decades of dealing with every kind of threat known to man.

I do everything in my power to shut down my anxiety and focus on what I can do. Keeping tabs on this guy is step one.

Keeping tabs on Colleen is something I shouldn't do, but dammit I can't help it.

"Thanks," I say.

"You look like you could use a beer."

"Sounds good." Both of us leave his office and head to the kitchen for a cold one. A beer isn't going to do a thing for me but nothing in Frank's house is the cure I need.

Clinton is GONE. How funny that he's giving Frank a hard time for being whipped, haha. Will Ross be an issue or another distraction for Clinton? Probably both haha!

Ten years gone is a mood and fitting for Clinton about now.

https://youtu.be/DBzuYNK95sM

Thanks for reading!!