Dean had no clue about the uproar of semblances inside the rock club, and he was light years away from knowing that E's rendezvous with the beautiful blonde stemmed from the spirits that were searching for CJ.
Even so; Dean was no idiot, and while he couldn't really pin-point the ominous presence in the air, something in his gut had warned him about this gigóway back, when he first saw it on the list of potential cities for the tour. The Interlude in Savannah; it just made him leery.
He wasn't a worrier, though; he based his decisions on logic. As the backbone of the tour he knew it best to ignore the unusual events and keep an eye on the business end of things, which meant that he had to get back to the club.
Being from London, he wasn't used to driving around in an oversized SUV. He left the hotel before the band, claiming he needed some extra time to maneuver the bulky vehicle. Truth was; he wanted to arrive ahead of time to get a jump-start on the merchandising. The minute the dust settled in New Orleans and he'd finished logging the sales, Dean got on the horn and ordered additional merchandise for Savannah; even borrowing some product from the Charleston drop-shipment. And to make sure the extra stock would be plastered in everyone's face, he had another display booth brought in as well.
The sales in New Orleans had surpassed everyone's expectations and Dean knew he got caught with his pants down. If the crowd in Savannah happened to buy merchandise at the same furious rate, he would be well stocked this time.
The Blue Collies
The late evening sun was sharp on Dean's eyes when he pulled in to the parking spot. He snatched his briefcase from the passenger seat and flung the door wide open. As he leapt out of the vehicle and closed the door, he noticed the flashing lights of a squad car in the side-view mirror. He turned around to see that a small crowd had gathered around a wooden guardrail, which was all that stood between River Street and the mighty, Savannah River...eighteen-feet below. Dean walked over to the railing just as a police van pulled up next to the crowd.
"Somethin' happen here, mate?"
"Just an accident. Nothing to see," a policeman answered, scribbling in his notebook without looking up.
Dean noticed a set of black tire-marks on the road; they ran against the flow of traffic and led straight to the edge of River Street, where they were bookmarked by broken and splintered guardrails.
Dean patted the damaged railing. "Looks like some wanker just drove through the bloody thing."
"Ya' think?" The policeman answered; again, without raising his head.
Dean turned around to see Brandon running towards him.
"Dean, I gotta' talk to you! Something strange is goin' on here. Ió" Brandon stopped talking when he noticed that the policeman was eyeing them. He placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and spun him around, away from the policeman's view. Brandon leaned in and spoke softly. "Listen, Dean...I heard that CJ was involved in this."
"CJ?" Dean's head perked up.