She was supposed to sing one of the songs soon to be available, but instead she chose to sing one of her own. When Paul Milias cornered Kasey Cartwright after the show ended, he was angry, yelling, asking why she had changed the song after the entire group had rehearsed and were ready to perform. Both raised their voices, but the argument ended when Kasey Cartwright had thrown a glass of iced tea into the face of the owner of her record company!
Paul Milias went to the restroom to clean up and soon each of them left for the after-party, where Paul's wife called Kasey a "cow". Soon Kasey was leaving the party and heading for the Plaza... With Paul, realizing that he needed to apologize, followed her. While Kasey left him in, even though it was around 2 in the morning, the friction continued and Milias slapped Kasey across the face! She started crying and ran into the bathroom, locking the door. Finally realizing that she was not going to talk to him, he left and got a cab home...
And the next morning when the maids came to clean the room, they found her lying across the bed--Dead.
Jack walked into Birch’s backstage dressing room at around nine thirty on a Friday night at the Bridgestone Arena in downtown Nashville. Birch was the headliner, wrapping up a six-month tour, and was scheduled to go on stage at ten thirty. There was a large makeup mirror in the antique-white room, a couple stools, a leather couch against the far wall, and two acoustic guitars on stands. Birch was sitting near the mirror with a red Solo cup in his hand, wearing a denim shirt, denim jeans, and cowboy boots. He had dark, aviator sunglasses on and a John Deere cap pulled tightly down over his head. He had a male model chin, with a jawline and teeth to match. The air in the room was thick with marijuana smoke.
Jack noticed a tall, decorative glass bong sitting on the counter near the mirror. Next to it was a handle of Jack Daniels, a two-liter bottle of Coke, and a small cooler filled with ice. “Yo, what’s up?” Birch said as Jack walked cautiously into the room. “Close that door behind you and lock it so we can have some privacy.” A band called Buick Five was on the stage, and the rockabilly was blasting. Closing the door didn’t muffle the sound completely, but it made it possible for Jack and Birch to talk without having to shout. Jack, who had dressed in country music concert gear—jeans, flannel shirt, boots, cowboy hat—shook hands with Birch, who motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. As soon as Jack was seated, Birch picked the bong up, walked over, and offered it. “No, thanks,” Jack said. “Don’t smoke?” “I’m working tonight.” “So am I,” Birch said. “You ain’t one of them tight asses, are you?”
“No, no,” Jack said, but then he smiled. “Well, maybe. I’m wound pretty tight most of the time.” Birch laughed. “At least you’re honest,” he said. “Sure you don’t want to hit this? It’ll mellow you right out.” “Not right now,” Jack said. “Maybe later.” “So my agent tells me you’re working for the lawyer who’s defending Paul Milius,” Birch said. “Says the lawyer is actually your dad.” “That’s right,” Jack said. “I’m in my last year of law school.” “You’re a big dude, so please don’t get up and kick my ass for what I’m about to say, but I’ve never met a lawyer who had a soul, man. Do they surgically remove it in law school, or do you lose it later on?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “I know what you’re saying,” he said. “But I think my dad’s okay. He’s been at it for a long time, and I think he’s been able to keep his soul. Most of it, anyway. And I don’t think I’ve lost mine. At least not yet.” “Then you’re as rare as a well-lived life, man. Hope you can keep it that way. I was just thinking about our culture and how bankrupt it’s become before you walked in. Gave me an idea for a new song. I’m going to call it ‘Empty Malls.’” “Empty Malls?” Jack said. “What’s it going to be about?” “I’m just going to write a tune about an empty mall in the South, and how it’s this big, empty shell covering the scattered shards of our broken retail dreams.”
“Sounds depressing,” Jack said. “It is depressing, man. We’re depressing. But it’s the freakin’ truth.” “Speaking of truth,” Jack said. “There are some things I’d like to talk to you about.” Birch popped off the stool and started pacing in a circle. “Now that was lame, dude,” he said. “Bad, bad segue. We’re sitting here rapping, establishing some trust, talking about empty malls and bankrupt dreams, and you go and try to slide that awful segue in there. I should just go ahead and have the security guys come toss you right now.” “I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I’m just not used to … I haven’t talked to anyone like you in a while. Hell, I’ve never talked to anyone like you in my life. By the way, there are cops all over this place. Don’t they mind that you’re smoking dope in here?” “They’re not on duty, man. They’re freelancing. We pay them. We can do whatever the hell we want as long as we don’t kill anybody.”
“Speaking of killing somebody ….” Jack smiled again, and Birch slapped his knee and went back to his chair. “Okay, lawyer’s son,” Birch said as he picked up the bong, lit it, and took a long pull. “You seem to be honest, and you’ve got a sense of humor. What do you want to talk about?” “I’d just like you to tell me what you know about Kasey Cartwright and Paul Milius.”
Birch blew the smoke out slowly and set the bong back down. He picked the Solo cup up and took a long drink. Jack could smell the whiskey from five feet away. “Kasey came out on tour last year for a while before I left Paul’s label,” he said. “Why’d you leave?” Jack asked. “Just a creative-differences thing, man. Happens all the time. But Kasey, she’d open the night, do about an hour, then she’d come to my bus or to my dressing room and get high with me when the show was over. Earthy chick, you know? All about what was natural, at least that’s what she wanted people to think. But she liked the retail dreams. She wanted to make as much money as she could. Wanted the fancy houses and cars and all that. She used to talk to me about it all the time. ‘What’s fair? How much can I make doing this or that? Is Paul screwing me?’”
“Was he?” Jack asked. “Screwing her? Financially, a little I’m sure. The new ones always get screwed. Physically, definitely.” “So he was having sex with her?” “Absolutely, man.” “How do you know for sure?” “Because I saw them getting it on in her trailer. I have this little habit of wandering around after shows. Harmless creepin’, you know? Helps me wind down. Sometimes I like to look in windows, check out what people are doing. I saw them doing the nasty, man, with my very own eyes. But Kasey had already told me she was doing him, which is the main reason I wandered over that way that night. I just couldn’t resist the chance of getting to see Kasey naked. Did you ever see her? I mean when she was alive?” “All I’ve seen is pictures,” Jack said. “Pretty girl.” “Sensuous, too,” Birch said. “But anyway, Kasey thought she was playing Paul so she could make more money. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was just an amusement to him, just a temporary thing. But ol’ Kasey, she got tired of Paul before Paul got tired of her. She started seeing Cameron Jones as soon as she turned eighteen.”
“Cameron Jones is another singer on Paul’s label, right?” “Yeah, good buddy of mine, Cameron. Good artist, too. A little more old-school than me, not as edgy, but still good at what he does.” “Did Paul know Kasey was seeing Cameron?” “Yeah, yeah. Cameron said Kasey was upfront about it. It was kind of funny. What he told me was that she went all John Hancock about it. I’d never heard that phrase before.” “Did Cameron say how Paul reacted?” “Paul doesn’t like to lose. He didn’t get where he’s at by letting people take what he thinks is his. Cameron said Paul wasn’t none too happy about it.” “Unhappy enough to kill Kasey?” “I guess that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? I’m sorry, but I don’t have any answers for you. Listen, man, it’s getting close to show time, so if there isn’t anything else, I need to start getting my voice warmed up and let my makeup girl put my stage face on.” Jack rose from the couch and reached out a hand to Birch. “Thanks,” Jack said. He didn’t say anything about sending Birch a subpoena. It might not happen, but Birch said he had actually seen Paul Milius and Kasey having sex. That was admissible in court. Jack just didn’t know whether there would be any use for the testimony. And since Cameron Jones had apparently stepped in and lured Kasey away from Paul, Cameron might be a candidate for the SODDI defense. Maybe it had been worth the time and trouble to talk to Derek Birch. “Sure you don’t want to hit this bong before you head out?” Birch said. “It smells really good,” Jack lied, “but I think I’ll pass.”
~~~
Readers meet Paul's wife, Lana Raines-Milius in the Prologue, so this isn't a whodunit, y'all! LOL She had been a top country star, but had lost her voice. Now she was roaming around a large estate called Zanadu, where she had slowly become addicted to just about anything, including alcohol. Now she was aiming higher...
But when Kasey was murdered, she took the opportunity to play the devoted wife and sought out Joe Dillard and offered him $1M(!) to defend her husband. Initially Joe was hesitant, especially as his wife Caroline was going through a more difficult time than ever before, but she convinced him that he couldn't back down from a case...on the chance that she could get worse... Especially with a $1M fee upfront, which would be the highest payment Joe had ever received. Still, it was moving into the entertainment area and all it included that bothered him. And he was right to be hesitant... But Leon, his friend had made the recommendation to the couple and so he'd proceed...
Jack his son is acting as his clerk and investigator, as well as Charleston (Charlie) who is Jack's girlfriend was to handle pre-trial activities. After many interviews with as many people as they could think of that would be related to the recording business, they had still not found anything significant that could be used to defend his client... That is, until he was kidnapped and flown somewhere he never knew (he was hooded all the time). And there he learned exactly what happened--from a couple who refused to return to testify!
Additionally, Pratts' honing in on so many of the major legal issues that are predominant and moving ever more into violence and dangerous territory, is a welcome decision on the part of today's writers that I not only appreciate, but want to support! Scott Pratt Rocks in my opinion!
Each novel is so uniquely drawn, moving from one type of issue, which includes a variety of characters... sometimes only with Joe Dillard (and his wife) being the lead characters in all investigations, brings a variety of methods by which each legal issue can be addressed... Just think of what has been bothering you with today's top criminal activities and you'll read about either a minor or in-depth case where right ALWAYS wins, or at least a step forward is made--even if what happens never enters a courtroom... This book has a quite unusual twist that you'll not want to miss!
By the way, I've joined The Pratt Pack on Facebook, a group where we can talk about this series and others by Scott Pratt. Check it out... I just may be his newest, but ongoing, fan!
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