We rode in tense silence to the venue at the MGM Grand. Edward’s hands were in rigid claws, growling lowly under his breath and I was just as angry. I thought that we were passed this, but apparently not. Yes, things got damaged in transit, but the guitar and keyboard had special cases to prevent these issues.
Or could it be a ruse?
My gut was churning. It could be a possibility. Couldn’t it? “Edward, what if this is a set up?” I asked.
“A set up? James?” he retorted, arching a brow over his glasses.
“We’re going in there, half-cocked. It could be a trap,” I said, my fear coming back a hundred-fold.
“Ryan is meeting us,” Edward said, sliding his arm around my body. “But it does seem suspect that Kellan just didn’t fix the problem. He’s pretty resourceful. It could be that these instruments have a personal tie to us, he wanted us to be aware of the issue.”
“It doesn’t seem like Kellan. Yes, they are our instruments, but it could have been something where he called us or spoken to us prior to the concert this evening,” I said, reaching into my bag and grumbling when I discovered that I’d left my gun in my purse from yesterday evening. “Crap. Do you have your …” I held up my hand like a weapon. Edward blanched, shaking his head. “You have your cell phone?”
“Yeah. You, too?”
I nodded, putting it into my pocket of my jeans. They were a little tight. All of the home cooked meals were catching up with me. I’d have to get back into shape, jogging and eating healthy.
We arrived at the MGM Grand. We showed our credentials to security, which had been made tighter due to the threat of James and were granted access to the venue. The set up was nearly complete. Edward took my hand and we went inside, heading backstage to check our equipment. We saw the broken guitar and smashed keyboard, barely recognizable in a pile just off the stage. “Kellan?”
Edward called out. “Dude, we’re here.”
There was no response and we made our way onto the stage. We stepped over the speakers and cords, making our way to the green room, which was on the other side of the venue. We looked around, unable to find Kellan. “Maybe he’s in the bathroom?” I suggested.
“I’ll go check,” Edward said, ducking into the men’s room attached to the green room. He came back out, with a puzzled expression on his face. He shook his head and helped me to the rear of the venue, the garage where the tour buses and big rigs that carried our stage, lights and instruments were located. “This is weird. There’s no crew and Kellan is missing in action. What the hell?”
My phone chirped. “It’s from Kellan,” I said. “He said he’s on the stage. He had to address something at the box office, but is back on stage.”