The Quiet Before The Storm?

by michaelcahill

Background
Criminals in jail and on the run. A billion dollar estate in dispute. A war hero with mental problems in the middle.

Previously, Winston didn't spend much time in the hospital before his people helped him escape. His men overpowered the guards to his room. He wasn't injured too severly so he was able to be moved. No one was killed in the escape. The Bards injuries were more serious, but he was expected to make a full recovery as well. Lucy's feelings for the Bard became clearer to her. After all was said and done, there wasn't much in the way of charges to be filed against Winston and his men. The deal to sell biological weapons to the Chinese was thwarted and Winston didn't get his hands on any money. So, the team was satisfied. Junior and Chief Sandoval were in jail. Winston was a fugitive. Harpster, as far as most of the world was concerned, was considered deceased. We continue now, as Tenaya and Lucy settle in to their new jobs.

Lucy sighed. The offices of their agency looked established. It seemed like a work in progress for the last three months. Even after Tenaya began working cases with her, a project to refurbish always seemed to be ongoing. Today, the secretary sat at her desk. The janitor emptied wastebaskets. Tenaya looked over a report in her office. It looked like a thriving business.

Tenaya sighed. She longed for some action. At this stage of the game, a simple spousal infidelity gig would do fine. Just something to get her and her partner out of the office. Everything concerning their number one client, Blackwell Publishing had become a date circled on a calendar. The criminal cases plodded along. She understood that and, being a former Bel Air detective, expected it. The civil cases dragged on as well. She had worked Bel Air long enough to know that vast sums of money don't change hands without a great deal of legal posturing.

"The Bel Air Detective Agency" had success written all over it. It couldn't miss from day one. Their first client, Johnathon Blackwell Senior, couldn't switch to another agency if he wanted to. This agency knew he was alive. No other agency could know that. The number one priority of the agency was to protect that secret.

Down the street, Ruby Dancer sang into the most expensive microphone she had ever seen. She sang harmony with Nat King Cole. Well, not actually Nat King Cole, of course, but an old recording her mother, Diamond, had discovered in the archives while rummaging around. He sang Silent Night accompanied by a cello and a flute. The old reel-to-reel tape had rather good sound quality, having sat on a shelf over fifty years. Diamond could scarcely believe that the soulful and plaintive voice on that tape belonged to the smooth crooner that people remembered Nat King Cole to be. This would be a song that Diamond would never tire of listening to. For Ruby, it represented the last cut on her very first album. She had pulled out all the stops producing and performing on this album.

The critiques had already grumbled about "the money can't buy talent" aspect of it already. Bastards! They haven't even heard a note and they're judging it. Those were Ruby's thoughts when she read that article in the Calendar section of The Times. It gave her even more resolve. The album had duets with some of the greats, living and dead, on one side and Diamond's original songs on the other side. Diamond had collaborated with Harpster on most of them, but for obvious reasons his name couldn't appear on the project. The harp playing on the album was credited to Juano Esmuerta. That was Q's little inside joke to add to the project. (Juan-no-es-muerta… John is not dead)

Harpster lived at the mansion, once again, incognito. It proved more difficult then he first imagined. His pursuit of Diamond was not the swans dancing in the moonlight fairytale he had hoped. Diamond came from a rough background and had a well-justified mistrust of men in general. She had a special distrust for smooth talking disarming types like Harpster. But, the attraction was there, she couldn't deny that. The going was slow, but the movement was forward. Ruby loved her father. There was no doubt that they were of a feather.

Harpster didn't realize how active he was until he became inactive. He felt like a prisoner in the house that he paid for. He loved his mother and enjoyed her company. His brother Daniel had some great stories to tell and they had always been close. He couldn't be happier that the shrill Lilith had been maneuvered out of the mansion by Q. The only uncommon thing to brighten the day would be when the Bard would pop in for a visit.

The Bard recovered rapidly from his injuries and came out of it none the worse for wear. The going was slow with Lucy though. All the love in the world didn't make him less mentally ill. That still existed and hindered the chance that they could ever be a real couple. However, whatever one would call their relationship, it was satisfying to them.

The playhouse and attached tree house had officially become his home and the appointments made to it were quite comfortable. He had everything he needed for his writing and music, as well as cable T.V. and suitable appliances. He lived much as he did before. He collected cans and recyclables, as he always had, even though he didn't need to. He enjoyed the interaction. He enjoyed being the Bard of Bel Air. He had to be the Bard. His life depended on it.

The truth be known, the events on the docks and the severe wound he suffered triggered memories that he had suppressed for quite some time. Lucy knew as some of the wall around him crumbled to the demands of his heart that a great deal of his persona was by design. He hid behind the Bard for dear life. It protected him from the true pain of his existence. It provided a shield between his lot in life and his remarkable potential.

did you see that?
no, I guess you don't have eyes like mine
mine paint the sky
with memories on fields of blue
mostly shades of red
                the hues of war
                                fire
                                anger
                                blood
                                embarrassed platitudes
                                                that make less and less sense
I jump on insanity's carousel
                my sanity thus protected

"Hey, Bard. How's that head?" Charlie Sheen's day-to-day interactions with people were nothing like what people read about in the tabloids. As far as the Bard could tell, he was just Charlie that put out his own trash and recycled. Well, when he was in town that is.

"As good as it's gonna get I'm afraid. I think they left too much in. I find myself caring once in a while. It's very distracting". The Bard delivered that without cracking a smile.

Charlie laughed heartily at that. "I know what you mean. Yep, you're on the money there". He was still laughing as he went back inside.

The Bard put the two sacks of Pepsi bottles in his cart and continued down the road. A quick right down the alley and he arrived home. He went up into the tree house to take a look at the mansion. Nothing much went on there anymore. Harpster's pretend death and renewed love for Diamond kept him housebound for the most part. The wild nightlife had become a thing of the past.

Tonight with the sun setting, the Blackwell mansion looked eerily empty. The Bard decided to go take a look. He had some lyrics to show Harpster anyway. They often collaborated on material. The Bard never allowed Harpster to give him songwriting credit, but he had a private ledger and saw to it that the Bard's needs were always met usually behind the Bard's back.

He pushed the front door in which wasn't locked. "Moneygram. Singing Birthday Gram. Your Stripper has arrived, Lincoln." Total silence greeted his witty greetings. He walked through the house that seemed disheveled. It didn't look like a major struggle had taken place. It looked unkempt. It looked as though it hadn't been tended to. That was decidedly out of character for the Blackwell Mansion.

He went downstairs and again silence greeted him. He noticed the light flashing above the safe room. He pushed the intercom button. "Who's in there? It's the Bard".

"The Bard? Are you alone? Is it safe?" It was Esmeralda, Harpster's mother.

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Life resumes. Life has changed for many, but it has returned to somewhat the same routine for the Bard. Input, critique and suggestions are always anxiously sought. Please feel free to offer anything that occurs to you. It is most appreciated.

characters: Updated for book 2

Johnathon Blackwell Senior-Harpster, deceased former owner of a music conglomerate. Death prematurely announced. Actually kidnapped and now in hiding.

Johnathon Blackwell Junior- Senior's son and heir apparent to the family fortune. Currently in prison for Mudering Harpster. He is unaware the his father is alive.

Lilith Blackwell- Widow of Blackwell Senior and claimant to the estate. Filed billion dollar civil suit.

The Bard-Stewart Slater, homeless, writer, musician, mentally ill. witness to the death of Harpster amongst other things.

Detective Tenaya Adrian- lead is there is a murder to investigate.

Detective Lucy Smaldino, Tenaya's partner

Lincoln- The Blackwell family butler.

Ruby Dancer- singer and Daughter of Harpster though she doesn't know anything about it. Revealed to be his daughter at the end of book 1. Now the heir to the Blackwell estate.

Diamond Dancer- mother of Ruby and former mistress of Harpster. Refuses to tell Ruby anything about her father. Forced to reveal that Harpster was Ruby's father.

Dr. Khin- The Blackwell personal family physcian--Killed by Winston in the first book.

"Q & A"-- Q Aubrey Langstan--"Q" The Blackwell family attorney. Loyal to Harpster.

Daniel- Blackwell Senior's Deaf brother.

Esmeralda "Emma" Blackwell- Blackwell Seniors Mother

Winston- Blackwell Senior's son. War hero turned mercenary. Kidnaped father and the Bard. Accused of conspiracy to murder his father. Warrant is out, he's at large.

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Tenaya, the Bard and all settle in to their lives again.

A chapter in the book Bel Air: A Bard's Guide

The Quiet Before The Storm?

by michaelcahill

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