The Fame Equation by Lisa Wysocky Read Free Book Online

covered arena, while Jon took on the role of a horse pulling the travois.
    Jon walked alongside Petey, and in front of and behind him, grasping the open end of the travois in his hands. The cross bar end dragged on the ground behind him. Horses who are driven often wear blinkers, but at this stage, I wanted Petey to see everything. He became a little wide eyed when the travois came close, so I stopped him and let Jon pull the thing toward and away, over and over until Petey relaxed. When the gelding lowered his head and began to lick his lips in acceptance, I decided that was enough for today.
    As I led Petey back to the barn, he reached over and grabbed a portion of the lead rope and held it in his mouth. This might be considered disrespectful from another horse, but Petey just liked to lead himself. Just as I got Petey back in the cross ties my cell phone rang. For safety purposes, I have a “no cell” rule when working with the horses, but Jon was already undoing Petey’s surcingle and reins, so I crossed the aisle and went to the tack room to get my phone. My heart gave an involuntary leap when I saw the call was from Keith Carson.
    “Have you heard from Melody this morning?” Keith asked as soon as I answered.
    “No, why?”
    “She missed an interview we had on WSIX radio. It was an important interview. A really important interview and I was just wondering why she’d stand me up and embarrass me like this. Why she’d jeopardize our single. Why she wants to sabotage both her career and mine.”
    I’d never heard Keith so angry.
    “Sorry to go off on you, Cat,” he said, after taking an audible breath. “Carole told me you were at Melody’s yesterday. Did she say anything while you were there? Give any reason why she might not show up this morning?”
    I told him that, as far as I knew, Melody was looking forward to the interview, and that she even had her nails done so she could “look good on radio.”
    “Do you want me to call her?” I asked.
    “No. Davis and Buffy have been calling her all morning. But will you let me know if you hear from her? Some young artists do stupid things unconsciously to derail their careers. It’s a classic fear of success, but I didn’t take Melody for someone who would do that.”
    Neither did I. All she’d ever wanted was to be a country star and she’d worked much harder than most for her success. Fear of success? Not Melody Cross.
    As soon as I hung up, Buffy called, and that conversation was similar to the one I’d just had with Keith, with one exception.
    “Some reporters might have made the connection between you and Melody at the wrap party. If anyone calls to ask about her,” she said, “I’d appreciate you keeping quiet about her missing the interview. Especially if anyone from a national outlet calls: one of the networks, that sort of thing. We want to know what the situation is before we take a position.”
    Buffy would know all about that, as she used to be media. In fact, that’s how Buffy and I met. She had been a local reporter who’d called me after Sally and I won our first world championship. Melody once told me that some of the best publicists had worked both sides of the media game.
    “You’re probably in the middle of something so I hate to ask,” Buffy continued, “but I have a new client meeting that I cannot change and I was wondering if you could go over to Melody’s house? Davis is in a lunch meeting or he would go, but someone should check to be sure she isn’t sick or something. Maybe she fell and got hurt?”
    Buffy said these last words as if she hoped that was the case.
    “According to my paperwork, you are the person Melody asked me to call in case of an emergency and I know you have a key . . .”
    “Of course,” I told her. “Of course I’ll go, and I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”
    I hung up and filled Jon in. Instantly, our easy camaraderie of the morning was replaced with tension. “I know she’s a