September 12, 2023

Eugeena Patterson-Jones and her husband, Amos Jones, finally head out for their long-awaited honeymoon in Music City. As part of a surprise, Eugeena is treated to a concert starring one of her favorite singers. Cinnamon Waters, also a childhood friend, invites Eugeena and Amos backstage. Behind the glitz and music, tension brews and Eugeena finds out someone wants to harm Cinnamon.

When one mishap after the other keeps happening, the couple’s romantic getaway takes a backseat to trying to save her friend’s life.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

I think I’ve swayed my hips more in my old age than when I was younger. 

Eugeena, you still got it, girl!

The man in front of me wasn’t moving too bad either. Amos Jones had his two step game going strong like a man twenty years younger. Even with the lights shimmering off his bald head, I could picture how good looking he’d been back in the day. He was still handsome in my book. Aged like fine wine!

Both formerly widows, Amos and I, now Eugeena Patterson-Jones, had finally embarked on the honeymoon we should have taken over a year ago. Why so long? Well, certain events delayed our breakaway from our daily life. And there were the unexpected mysteries that I’d been determined to solve. But a sistah had grown tired of coming across people who committed unspeakable acts of evil, like murder. I’d experienced many melancholy days and a few nightmares that stole my sleep at night. The amateur sleuth hobby had not been how I planned to spend my retirement years.

Let’s just say it was good to get away.

Tonight, the blues permeated the air, but I was quite giddy. An incredible feat, seeing as I was 550 miles away from my beloved home. I had spent all my life in Charleston, South Carolina, where I was born and raised. The most visited city in South Carolina, I’d seen people from all over the world in my hometown, but I hadn’t traveled much outside the Palmetto State. I loved my Sugar Creek neighborhood where I’d spent more than half my life raising kids, being married to my first husband and in the past few years meeting my new hubby.

Amos proposed driving up to Music City, but I didn’t see myself sitting in the car for eight hours. We were way too old for that. Conquering my trepidation for flying, we made it to Nashville, Tennessee, yesterday afternoon. I hated I missed church, but Amos caught a good deal on our flight out of Charleston International Airport.

Now, after a morning of sightseeing and an afternoon nap, we were, to Amos’s amusement, hanging out in what I called a juke joint. The Blue Note Lounge, in fact, was very sophisticated with its textured walls, cushy seats, and mahogany tables. It was certainly no hole in the wall, not that I knew much about those kind of places.

 The Blue Note’s walls were lined with portraits of musicians, both famous and local. Although it was called the Blue Note, in addition to the blues, tonight we’d heard everything from Motown classics to jazz. While the lounge band wrapped up a lively number, Amos held his hand on the small of my back guiding us back to our table. I wasn’t sure how we were lucky enough to be seated near the stage. In the corner to our right was an old jukebox. In between the band’s sets, someone would push buttons keeping the atmosphere festive.

Now that we were seated, I had a chance to see the beautiful singer dressed in a dazzling royal blue dress. She’d delighted the crowd and was ending her set with “What a Difference A Day Makes,” which I recognized as one of my mama’s favorite songs. Mama loved Dinah Washington. It was one of the few things I remembered about her.

Our server swung by. Her big smile lit up a round face. She wore her hair in box braids that were swept up on top of her head. 

“Y’all want your drinks refilled?”

While others were drinking spirits, I wasn’t trying to be too adventurous. Besides, I wasn’t an alcohol drinker, the taste never appealed to me. The Blue Note Lounge served food, and I had a tall, sweet tea with a basket of some of the best chicken fingers I’d had. Almost rivaled our favorite place back home, The Chicken Shack. Just enough spice to ignite my senses, but not too much to leave me up with heartburn later. The server poured more tea for me and brought Amos another craft beer.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention?” I peered toward the stage. A young man had walked out on the stage, his smile dazzling in the spotlight revealing beautiful white teeth. I’d noticed the standard dress at the Blue Note Lounge seemed to be a black shirt, black jeans, and cowboy boots. There was an older announcer who introduced singing acts throughout the evening, but something about the younger announcer felt familiar to me.

He continued. “The person you’ve been waiting to see is ready to hit the stage. She’s a favorite here at the Blue Note.” Then he pointed to the crowd. “Are you ready?”

I bellowed out, “Yeah,” like the others around me. I’d been looking forward to this ever since Amos showed me the two tickets he purchased. After so many years, I would finally get to see a childhood friend.

Cinnamon Waters.

Cinnamon stepped onto the stage as the crowd roared with excitement. Cinnamon and I were the same age, but she seemed much younger than me, defying her sixty-three years. She sported a honey blonde ponytail which was pinned back with a large red bow. She wore a short, sparkly red dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. I sure would like to know how she was able to keep that figure. She smiled and waved at the audience.

“How y’all doing out there?” As her name implied, Cinnamon’s voice was sweet with a touch of spice. “So good to have you here. I have a few of my favorites I’d like to share. How does that sound?”

The audience responded in one accord.

The guitar player started a few chords followed by the rest of the band. As Cinnamon sang, her voice was just as I remembered when we were girls in the choir. Now it was more powerful, more soulful, and full of emotion. Moving with the rhythm of the music, Cinnamon slowly swayed her shoulders throwing her head back. Cinnamon’s sultry voice mesmerized people of all ages and races. 

By Cinnamon’s second set, the crowd seemed to have grown around us. I hadn’t paid much attention to all the tables filling in, but I assumed it was a pretty good crowd for a Monday evening. 

I felt so proud of my friend. This woman was one of my closest friends at one time. Back then, she was shy and timid. But there was no sign of that young girl tonight.

Cinnamon asked, “Can you bring up the house lights? I want to see who’s with us tonight.” The overhead lights slowly flickered on across the lounge. She walked to the edge of the stage and patted her glistening face with a handkerchief. “Ah, yes, you all look beautiful.”

Cinnamon placed her hand over her eyes to shade them as she scanned the room. To my surprise, our eyes met.

She pointed at me. “I see a special friend is here tonight.” 

I grinned and waved. 

She sauntered over to the stage nearest to our table. “It’s so good to have you here, Eugeena. This next song is for you, my dear friend.”

I grabbed Amos’s hand, tears filling my eyes. I whispered, “How did she know I was here?”

Amos winked like he had a secret.

To my surprise, Cinnamon sang “Amazing Grace.” Her voice washed over me like warm water. As she sang, I closed my eyes, envisioning sweet memories from our childhood. This was a song Cinnamon’s late mother used to sing. After she finished the song, she blew me a kiss. The crowd cheered and clapped, and I blew her a kiss back.

Cinnamon disappeared behind the curtains. The young man who had announced her showed up at our table. “Eugeena Patterson.”

“Yes.”

“Ms. Waters wanted me to give you a backstage tour.”

“What?” I looked over at Amos. “Did you know about this?”

Amos grinned. “I’ve been busy over the past few weeks. You were worried about what I was doing. Told you I was making plans.”

My hubby may have outdone himself. In all honesty, I was grateful to see Cinnamon onstage, but she was a world traveler, and it’d been some years since we last saw each other. In fact, the last time I saw her was six years ago at my late husband Ralph Patterson’s funeral.

We rose from the table and followed the young man. Something about the young man seemed familiar, and I couldn’t help but be nosy. “Are you related to Cinnamon?”

He turned and smiled. “She’s my grandma.”

I sucked in a breath as another memory hit me. “I knew it. You remind me of her older brother.”

The man nodded. “Uncle Charlie. Yeah, I get that a lot. Too bad I never got to meet him.”

“Yes, it’s a shame. He was quite the musician.”

“I heard. I play the piano like he did. Do a little singing too.”

“Runs in the family.” As we entered backstage, my thoughts went to Charlie Waters. He was my earliest crush. All the hours we spent playing out in the country, you get to know people, and there was no one as funny and rambunctious as Charlie. Charlie unfortunately passed many years ago before we all graduated from high school. “What’s your name, son?”

“Jared.”

“That’s a nice name. You say you are a singer, too?”

Jared smiled. “I used to sing, but I mainly help manage my grandma’s gigs.”

Used to sing. He’s so young.

“That’s beautiful that you’re helping out your grandma.”

 Going back behind the stage was a whole new experience for me. It was a tight squeeze. And a lot of people were standing around. I recognized some members of Cinnamon’s band and her two backup singers. As we passed by, I noticed one of the backup singers and one of the band members, the guitar player, I think, were not too happy about something. 

Could’ve been my suspicious nature, but the woman appeared scared and moved her hands around erratically. I caught the man grabbing her arms as if to steady her. I didn’t have time to see anymore before Jared stopped in front of a door labeled “Dressing Room.” 

Jared knocked on the door, and then frowned. His hand stilled on the doorknob.

I listened closely. Someone was in there with Cinnamon. 

The deepness of the voice indicated it was probably a man.

 Their voices were raised, and though I couldn’t tell what they were saying, it sounded like a full on argument to me.

I glanced at Jared and noticed his smile had disappeared. Deep lines marred the young man’s forehead and his body seemed to grow stiff as a board.

An odd familiar feeling crept up my spine. Over the past few years, I’d developed a sense when something bad was going to happen. Amos told me it came from witnessing how people treated other people during their darkest moments.

I quickly prayed for peace and that I was wrong about a storm approaching.