Whiskey River, Drown my Soul

Chapter One

Andy was pacing, debating. He pulled his phone out of his pocket once, then put it back.

He sat down at his desk instead, but continued to stare out the window into his large employee parking lot rather than working.

He stood and started pacing again.

Finally decided, he made the call.

...........................................................................

Sitting in a sleek black car with tinted windows, FBI consultant Detective Reverty Walker was parked on the side of a busy street watching a specific room at an exclusive hotel building in London. He was scowling behind his black sunglasses but he wasn't particularly angry. That was simply his face.

His phone rang and he glanced down at it, expecting to see the number of his contact in town calling with information. He did not expect to see Andrew Jansen's number pop up. He hadn't personally spoken to him for a couple years.

"Andy?", he answered curiously. "What's up?"

"Is my sister with you?", Andy asked in his direct, assertive manner.

This conversation felt all too familiar and Rev got an irritated surge of deja vu.

"No, why?", he asked, hearing the edge to his voice.

There was a pause.

"Have you heard from her recently?", Andy asked.

The irritation instantly switched to worry. There was no one on the planet Rev loved besides Paige, and right now it sounded like her brother didn't know where she was.

"I've been in England for four months, and I haven't talked to her for about two. I've tried calling and she's tried calling, but we're in different time zones. What's wrong?"

"So, you haven't heard about Brad?"

"No, Andy, get to the point", Rev snapped, his anxiety continuing to climb. "What did the wanker do this time?"

"He died".

Rev was stunned. The implications of what that meant to his dear beloved Paige hit him in wave after wave until he could nearly feel the grief she must be feeling. Tears blinded his vision, even though what he had felt for that man could easily be described as hatred.

"When? How?", Rev finally got out, running one massive hand over his bald head.

"Seven weeks ago at the end of one of her shows. One of the fans who had been putting crazy shit about her on social media had shown up. Victor identified the guy moving toward the stage, and Brad heard it through his earpiece. He was backstage, so he rushed onto the stage and grabbed her, turning to run her back. The guy pulled a gun and shot before Vic got to him. He shot Brad through the back, it exited out of his chest, and the bullet lodged in Paige's shoulder. He died right there in her arms".

Rev's eyes filled with tears and he could hardly breathe.

In her arms. Oh, love.

"Her injury?", he choked out.

"She had surgery to get it removed and acted like it was no big deal. It didn't hit anything major, but she's supposed to be doing physical therapy. After the other injuries she's had, it probably isn't a big deal to her".

"The attacker?"

"People started screaming and fleeing. It was mass chaos. He turned his gun on himself and blew his brains out before Vic could get the gun away".

"How was her mental state after this?", Rev asked warily.

Paige had a history of anxiety and PTSD, had endured a ton of trauma and grief, and had struggled with severe depression at times.