Page 87 of The Broken Note

Slowly, the sound of applause breaks out behind me.

It’s followed by another.

The applause thunders through the room, building until it matches the crescendo of the song.

“I need the room!” Jarod Cross barks.

Footsteps patter.

Whispers rush.

“She was incredible.”

“I haven’t heard anyone play like that in my life.”

“Dude, why the hell am I crying?”

Finally, it all fades to silence.

I feel the drum cover shifting and, slowly, it drapes off my head to my shoulder and into my lap. I meet Jarod Cross’s blue eyes and find him leaning over the piano, his lips quirked up.

“Burying that talent would be a crime,” he says in a low hush. “Have you ever thought about touring?”

“Me? Tour? No.” I shake my head and brush my hair down. The blanket caused frizz to rise all over.

“You obviously know how to play. And you had to have played in public for Mulliez to discover you.”

“I usually wear a wig and makeup.”

“A wig and makeup?” He chuckles, low and deep.

I squirm. Exhale. Change the subject. “Mr. Cross, do you really want me to spy on Dutch? Why?”

“I suspect that my son is dealing drugs,” he says bluntly.

My eyes widen. All the air gets sucked out of the room and I can’t breathe.

“I’ve had my suspicions for a long time, but when I saw all the money in Dutch’s account well… I started investigating.”

“He wouldn’t… Dutch doesn’t do drugs. I haven’t even seen him smoke.”

“Dutch is rebellious by nature.” Jarod Cross folds his arms over his chest. “He would do anything to get back at me for the wrongs he perceives I’ve done.”

My mouth opens and closes.

“I did my research, and you—Miss Cooper—are the only one who seems unafraid of my son. It’s why I chose you. It’s why I know you won’t let me down.”

My skin starts to crawl. The one thing I hate, more than anything in this world, is the substance that turned my mother into an addict and the people who benefit from the trade.

If Dutch is dealing…

“No. He isn’t the type who’d hide if he were doing that,” I insist. Why does it hurt to think that Dutch could be dealing? Why do I want that to be a lie so desperately?

“Some people disguise themselves better than others.” Jarod Cross picks up the drum cover. “You should know something about hiding your true self.”

My chest burns. I see through his smile to the truth beneath. He’s taunting me. Challenging me.

The danger of the moment rolls through my chest like a storm, deep and foreboding. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know that I’ve stepped into rushing, dangerous currents. At any minute, I can sink like a stone.