Page 77 of Faded Rhythm
“What the fuck is happening?” I finally say. I’m trembling now, I’m so angry and confused.
“Sounds to me like your husband lied his ass off.”
“Yeah, but why?”
I stand and pace, back and forth, my bare feet slapping the marble tile.
“The label is basically defunct,” I say. “They don’t have any artists. They started fizzling back in 2009.”
“When Redd died.”
I nod. “My Daddy died a few years later. Dime took care of everything. I didn’t have any reason to doubt Brett, and I didn’t have any reason to ask about the sale. I figured it all went to my mother.”
Julian’s brow creases as he stares at the counter in front of him. “Why would your father’s half go to you and not your mother?”
I have the same question, so I fire off a text. She answers immediately.
“Apparently, there was a clause in my Daddy’s will that if my mother remarried before the label was sold, my father’s stake would pass to me, my sister, and any children we have,” I read aloud. “Well, that makes sense, I guess.”
Julian nods. “That label is worth a lot more than you think, Sable. Even without current artists. Redd’s catalog alone is probably worth fifty-million.”
I pace again, feeling no closer to understanding.
“If you die, who gets your share?”
I stop pacing and stare at Julian. “Is that it? You think that’s why he wants me dead?”
“I don’t know. But trust me, I’ll find out. I’ll dig.”
My shoulders slump. The weight of deception feels heavier than any one person should bear.
31
Julian
I’m in my officeworking, but I’m not making much headway.
My laptop’s open, cursor blinking in an empty search bar. I’ve been staring at it so long, it feels like it’s judging me.
I scrub a hand down my face and hope AJ gets back to me fast. I have a hunch about this shit, but I won’t know anything for certain until I get my hands on some very important paperwork.
It’s quiet. The girls are occupied. Sable is resting. Today was a lot on her, I know. I’m trying my hardest to ease that weight off of her, but this shit is like a puzzle I can’t solve.
I hear something in the silence. It’s soft and light.
Footsteps.
I know it’s her, and I smile.
The door pushes open and there she is. She’s wearing a long Redd Clay T-shirt and leggings. Her hair is loose around her shoulders. Just the way I like it.
She didn’t knock or ask to come in. She doesn’t need to, and she seems to know it.
She closes the door behind her. “Any news?”
“Not yet.” I lean back in my chair and stare at her. So damn pretty. “I’m getting you a new cell phone,” I announce. “He’s probably tracking yours.”
She rolls her eyes. “At this point, I don’t know who the fuck I married.”
