Free Give Him the Slip by Geralyn Dawson

where she
plopped down on the deck, gazed up at the stars, and wished herself miles away.
    Maddie knew how to wish. She'd been eight years old when she
begged her parents, British rocker Blade and his American, vocal-lead wife,
Savannah, to give her a normal childhood. Even then she'd wanted Mayberry.
She'd dreamed of a My Three Sons house and a teacher the likes of the
Beaver's Miss Landers. She'd craved a real-life bedtime and brownies made from
scratch by her mother.
    Her parents loved her and they listened. At the end of a concert
in Barcelona, Blade announced to the crowd that he and Savannah were leaving
the band—because that's what Baby Dagger wanted.
    It proved to be a poor choice of words. A riot broke out in the
stadium. People were nearly trampled to death. Someone started a fire in a
trash can, which then spread to a concession. One woman had a stroke. Headlines
across the world picked up the quote, and overnight, Baby Dagger became a
synonym for spoiled brat.
    Nevertheless, her parents persevered and chose for their home a
suburb in Middle America, looking for picket fences. Instead, they got picket
lines and paparazzi. In Kansas.
    The townspeople didn't appreciate the fuss, and Maddie's dream was
spoiled. They'd had to replace pretty white pickets with an iron fence and
gate, intercoms, and cameras. Neighborhood games of tag didn't happen. Baby
Dagger couldn't walk to and from school without a bodyguard, and no matter how
much she wished it, she could never be just another kid hoping to be chosen for
a softball team or to play red rover on the playground.
    Luckily, except for a few diehards who refused to go away, the
press's pursuit faded as the months went on, and for an oh-so-brief amount of
time, Baby Dagger caught a glimpse of Normal, USA. Oh, she never quite managed
to ride that school bus, and she wasn't chosen to play Mary in the Christmas
pageant, but she did get to go trick-or-treating door-to-door. The Halloween
when she was nine was the absolute best day of her life.
    Then, the next day, she asked Savannah to make brownies.
    It was a freak accident. No one knew for sure what happened, but
the detectives suspect Savannah spilled the batter, then slipped and hit her
head on the edge of the kitchen table. Savannah had been dead for about an hour
before father and daughter found her.
    The press went wild. Blade went crazy. Like a violent black
tornado, he scooped Baby up from Kansas and dropped her back into his version
of Oz—the world of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Only this time, without the
settling presence of his beloved Savannah, for the better part of a decade
Blade got lost.
    A warm night breeze swirled around Maddie as sorrow welled up
inside her at the memory. Such sad years. Such lonely years. There'd been one
stretch of time when Blade left her on the estate in England and didn't return
for more than twenty-six months.
    Maddie heard Luke's footsteps climbing the stairs to the
fly-bridge. She drew a deep breath of damp, earthy air, then her sigh joined
the whispering of leaves in the trees. "I should have just told you,"
she said as he stretched out beside her. "I was stupid to think I could
get through this mess without that bit of news coming out. I've never been that
lucky."
    "You certainly are full of surprises."
    From somewhere below them, Knucklehead let out a whimper. Luke
responded with a soft whistle, and moments later, the dog padded up the steps
and plopped down beside Maddie, laying his head in her lap. She scratched him
behind his ears and waited for Luke to bombard her with questions.
    First, he'd ask her about her parents' decision to leave the
Swords. Then he'd want to know about her mother's death and her father's drug
addiction. After that, he'd pepper her with questions about the Infamous
Comeback Interview of her father by Barbara Walters, and Luke's voice would
drip with the scorn that invariably accompanied any sentence that included the
words "Baby Dagger."
    But