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seemed to know how to behave around Brian, what questions to ask, what
questions to avoid. "How's Bev?" he ventured.
"I don't know." Remembering his cigarette, Brian plucked. it out from
among the b.u.t.ts. "She won't say very much, won't go out at all."
He let out smoke with a long, uneven sigh. When he looked at Pete there
was both a plea and defiance in his eyes. The same, Pete thought, as
there had been years before when Brian had come to him, asking for
management. "Pete, she sits in Darren's room for hours at a time. Even
at night, sometimes I'll wake up and find her in there, just sitting in
that b.l.o.o.d.y rocking chair." He took a swallow from his gla.s.s, then
another, deeper. "I don't know what the h.e.l.l to do."
"Have you thought of therapy?"
"You mean a psychiatrist?" Brian pushed away from the table. The ash
from his cigarette crumbled onto the rug. He was a simple man, from
simple people. Problems, private problems, were handled privately.
"What good would it do for her to talk about her s.e.x life and how she
hated her father or some b.l.o.o.d.y thing?"
"It's just an idea, Bri." Pete reached out a hand, then dropped it to
the arm of his chair. "Something to think about."
"Even if I thought it might help, I don't know if I could get her to
agree."
"Maybe she just needs a bit more time. It's only been a couple of
months."
"He'd have been three last week. Oh, Jesus."
Saying nothing, Pete rose to pour more whiskey into Brian's gla.s.s.
He handed it over, then eased Brian into a chair. "Do you hear anything
from the police?"
"I talk to Kesselring. They're no closer. That makes it worse somehow.
Not knowing who."
Pete sat again. They needed to get past this thing, all of them, and
move ahead. "What about Emma?"
"The nightmares have stopped, and the cast comes off in a few weeks. She
has school to keep it off her mind, but it's always there. You can see
it in her eyes."
"She hasn't remembered any more?"
Brian shook his head. "Christ, Pete, I don't know if she saw anything
or just had a bad dream. It's all monsters with Emma. I want it behind
her. Somehow we've got to put it behind all of us."
Pete paused a moment, considering. "That's one of the reasons I'm here.
I don't want to push you, Bri, but the record company would very much
like a tour to commence with the release of the new alb.u.m. I've put them
off, but I wonder if it might not be good for you."
"A tour would mean leaving Bev, and Emma."
"I realize that. Don't give me an answer now. Think about it." He took
out a cigarette, lighted it. "We can go through Europe, America, j.a.pan,
if you and the lads are willing. The work might be just what you need
to help you through."
"And it would sell plenty of records."
Pete gave a thin smile. "There's that. No pus.h.i.+ng an alb.u.m over the
top these days without touring. Speaking of records, I signed that new