Free The Song Never Dies by Neil Richards Page A

her.
    And Jack watched them kiss on both cheeks. Not a lover’s kiss.
    But looking like more than acquaintances?
    Friends?
    Allies?
    Jack watched for a couple of minutes more as the two sat and leaned in close, talking.
    Then he turned and headed back down the street.
    It was still early — and he wanted to do some thinking.
    He also needed to eat — that fish hadn’t been much more than a starter.
    As he passed the Ploughman’s, he saw they had their new Spring menu out.
    Top of the list, a burger with the blue cheese dressing which — last summer — he’d had a hand in formulating with Billy’s new young cook.
    Not quite the Spotted Pig, thought Jack.
    But then again, at the Spotted Pig they don’t pull pints of Guinness like Billy does.
    Jack opened the pub door and went into the welcoming light, his stomach already growling in anticipation.
    *
    It turned out — Sarah discovered — that after whipping up a quick macaroni cheese, with a big salad, that it was just for her and Daniel.
    Chloe was out studying and having a sleepover at her good friend Lucy’s.
    Still, it gave her a good chance to catch up, one on one, with her son’s life. Apparently, his class was planning a mini-Shakespeare festival.
    “Sounds like fun,” Sarah said.
    Daniel, as he always did, wolfed down the macaroni. “Will be, if we can have some,” he grinned, “sword fights and tournaments. Not just doing scenes from the plays!”
    “I’m sure you will make the best argument for that very thing.”
    He nodded. His plate empty, Daniel stood and — unexpectedly — also took Sarah’s plate.
    “I’ll clean up, mum. I know you have some Jack stuff to do, right?”
    She smiled at that.
    Jack stuff.
    “I do indeed.”
    “You can get on with it. I’ll sort these.”
    “Thank you,” Sarah said, surprised at her son’s initiative as she went out to the living room, to the small desk where her computer awaited.
    And just as she began to wonder — How’s Jack getting on? — her mobile rang.
    Jack .
    “Hey Sarah.”
    “Jack. You at the Pig? Doesn’t sound like it …”
    “Country and Western night at the Ploughman’s.”
    “Aha.”
    “Spotted Pig didn’t work out quite how I expected.”
    Sarah listened as he explained what had happened.
    “Anyways,” he said. “I’ve been sitting down here over a beer doing some thinking.”
    And Sarah knew when Jack said that things were beginning to step up a gear.
    “Go on.” she said.
    “First, there’s a few extra people I think you need to check into tonight. Carlton Flame and Gail King. See what photos you can find of the two of them together.”
    “You onto something?”
    “Just closing down bases. Same with Lauren Dumford — and Sarinda.”
    “Pictures?”
    “More history. Gossip. Trying to get a handle on who they really are.”
    “Okay.”
    “Oh, and check the money side too, can you? For all of them? Loans, mortgages, debts, credit ratings. That possible?”
    “Not legal, Jack. But sure — possible.”
    “I’ll take possible. Also, that song. Can you find out who actually wrote it? Like — officially? Copyright, maybe?”
    “I guess so. Also artists get payments — I think there’s an organization that logs all that. I’ll try to track it down, maybe get into their database.”
    “Terrific.”
    “You think the song’s important?”
    “Am beginning to. Hence, my next question.”
    “Hmm, I’m listening.”
    “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”
    “In the office. Pitching for the golf club website deal.”
    “Sounds important. Think you can get away for an hour?”
    “If I have to.”
    “Don’t want you to get on the wrong side of the golf club. Place like Cherringham, that could get dangerous.”
    “I won’t,” said Sarah, laughing. “You going to tell me what you have planned?”
    “Sure …”
    And Sarah listened as Jack explained how they were going to attempt to crack open what he now clearly thought was indeed a case.

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