Rock Chick Revolution
Page 47

“It’s not a strange name, Tod,” Stella pointed out.
“How many people with romance novelist’s names do you know?” Tod asked Stella.
“Ava Barlow,” Stella answered.
“Hmm,” Tod mumbled.
“India Savage. Allyson Nightingale. Roxanne Logan. Juliet Lawler. Sadie Townsend,” Stella carried on.
“Point taken,” Tod murmured.
But I was listening with half an ear.
The rest of my focus was on Fortnum’s.
I saw a lot of faces I knew. This was because Tex’s coffee was revered, thus practically everybody came back for more. It was also because, with the newspaper articles, as Tod noted, Fortnum’s, the Rock Chicks and the Hot Bunch were already famous in Denver.
Therefore we had a lot of regulars, and those regulars didn’t always just pop by for a coffee. Fortnum’s had been around a while. It had that feel that was real. That feel that invited you to stay. That feel that assured you you were welcome. That feel that many gave in to and hung out.
Sometimes for hours.
Right then, the place wasn’t packed, but the seating area in front of the espresso counter was full and there were people in line for coffees. And Jane, Indy’s other employee outside Duke, Tex, Jet and me, was even ringing up a book.
The kitchen counter story had been talked about, more than once, in that space.
I obviously hadn’t had time to read the book, though I’d skimmed parts, but it was safe to say most of what was in it had been discussed, at length and in some detail, in that space.
And easily overheard. The Rock Chicks weren’t about quiet. Not even close.
That meant it could be any regular that spent time there.
Why I hadn’t thought of this when wondering who spilled to the papers, I did not know.
But I was thinking of it now.
My gut clenched further as I remembered something.
During Indy’s Drama, Lee had put bugs and cameras in Fortnum’s. These fed to Lee’s surveillance room at his office in LoDo. After Indy’s drama, he didn’t take them out. This was because Lee’s surveillance room was manned 24/7, and those feeds provided comic relief for the boys.
And Brody Dunne was not the only computer whiz who could hack into anything.
Someone could have hacked into those feeds.
Someone could be watching us now.
I jumped out of my chair, digging in my back pocket for my phone and heading to the door.
“Where’re you goin’?” Tex boomed.
“Gotta make a call,” I shouted back.
“Sidewalk, woman. I have eyes on you all the time!” Tex kept booming.
I lifted a hand and waved my assent, head down, phone up. I pushed open the door and stopped on the sidewalk, but before I could call Brody to tell him to check to see if he’d been hacked, it rang and the display told me Ren was calling.
I put it to my ear but didn’t say “hey” because Ren was speaking when I got it there.
He was not speaking to me but he was pissed.
“I don’t give a f**k. Do it. Now.”
Uh-oh.
“Ren, what’s up?” I asked cautiously.
His attention came to me. “Ally?”
“Yeah, honey. Is something wrong?”
“Santo was tailing you,” he stated strangely.
“Okay,” I replied.
“He called Lucky, did a hand off, and now I got this pink f**kin’ book on my desk.”
Hmm. He seemed as angry as Indy. The thing about that was, her ha**ng s*x with Lee on his kitchen counter and everyone reading about it was (maybe) something to be angry about.
But why was Ren angry?
In order to give him the opportunity to explain his emotion, I repeated, “Okay.”
“And this bitch has a website,” he told me.
“What bitch?” I asked.
“Kristen Ashley.”
My head shot up and I blinked at Broadway.
“What?” I whispered.
He didn’t repeat himself. Instead he said something a whole lot scarier.
“Coming soon,” he spoke like he was reading. “Rock Chick Rescue, the story of Eddie and Jet.”
Oh shit.
Unfortunately he kept going.
“Rock Chick Redemption, the story of Hank and Roxie.”
Oh shit!
He went on, “I’ll cut to the chase, babe. The last on this list is Rock Chick Revolution, the story of Ally and Ren.”
Fuck!
Chills slid down my spine and I whispered, “Our story hasn’t been written.”
“Babe, our story isn’t a story,” Ren clipped.
This was true.
“They have them all?” I asked.
“Every last one,” he answered.
“This isn’t good, Ren,” I said quietly.
“No, babe. It is not f**kin’ good. It’s really not f**kin’ good. You and your girls got eyes on you from somewhere and I don’t need my woman to have eyes on her. I also don’t need eyes on me. Especially not now.”
Especially not now. What did he mean by that?
I opened my mouth to ask, but he got there before me.
“Your brother on this?” he asked.
“Which one?” I asked back.
“I don’t give a f**k. One, the other, but both would be better,” he answered.
“Well, we were kind of busy freaking so I’m uncertain that information has filtered down. Though, Fortnum’s is wired to Lee’s offices so I expect incoming Hot Bunch imminently.”
Ren was silent.
“Zano?” I called.
“That place is wired?” he asked in a scary soft voice.
Oh man.
“Well…” I paused. “Yeah.”
“How long has it been wired?”
Oh man!
“Uh… since Indy’s thing.”
The receiver was not at his mouth when he bit out, “Fuckin’ fuck me,” but I still heard it.
He came back to me and asked caustically. “You think you might have wanted to mention that?”
“Zano, you’ve hardly ever been here,” I pointed out.
“You think your girls haven’t discussed my shit, your shit, our shit, my shit with Ava and anything in between?” he returned.
Hmm.
He had a point.
I heard the roar of a bike, looked that way and saw Vance approaching on his Harley.
I watched Vance (Vance was very watchable), but into the phone, I said, “I need to call Brody, get him on it, see if the feeds were hacked.” My eyes on Vance, and particularly the unhappy expression he was wearing, I told Ren, “Vance just got here, and I’m getting the sense this is not a random drop in. I’ll phone Lee and Hank after Brody, but I suspect they’re already on it and likely both heading this way.”