Page 94 of A Tragic Melody

“We are getting pulled over.”

It takes her a second, but the realization hits.

“Oh.”

She quickly bolts towards the table, grabbing her makeup bag full of drugs. Her eyes dart around. I see the wheels turning in her head.

“Jesus,” I mutter, pushing myself from the couch.

I pry the bag from her hands and walk down to the bunks. I pick the bunk across from mine, stuffing the bag under the pillow.

When I return, she is pacing, chewing on her lip.

“Sit down. And don’t speak unless you have to,” I say, pointing to the couch. “I’ll do most of the talking.”

She drops on the couch, and I take the space beside her. Her leg bounces as she taps her foot on the floor, still chewing on her lip. My only hope is she comes across as annoyed and not nervous.

The bus stops. I can vaguely hear the driver talking to the officer from the front of the bus. It’s only when the driver gets out of the vehicle that I really begin to worry.

The door to the bus opens, and an officer steps onto the bus. His eyes glance over Tuesday and me.

“Good afternoon,” he says. “Your driver was going 80 in a 65. Figured I’d check to see that everything is okay onboard. That is a very unsafe speed for a bus this size to be going.” His eyes roam over Tuesday again.

She is wearing a thin tank top, under an unzipped hoodie and leggings. His eyes rest on her tits for a moment. Maybe her good looks will get us out of this in one piece.

“Fair,” I say. “To be honest, I didn’t even notice he was going faster than normal.”

“Yeah.” Tuesday nods. “Me either.”

“Hmm.” He says, glancing down the bus. “Just you two on here?”

“No. The rest of the band is down back. Doubt they even realized we stopped moving.” I force out a laugh. Tuesday’s foot continues to tap the floor, and it takes all my willpower not to grab her leg to stop it.

“Mind if we have a look?” he asks, his eyes darting to his partner who stands on the steps of the bus. “Just want to make sure everything is okay.”

“Sure. Go for it.”

His partner steps onboard as the first guy starts walking down the row of bunks, pulling back curtains.

“So you all are on tour, huh?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“What kind of music?” His eyes glance over Tuesday. “Would I have heard of you guys?”

“Rock,” I answer. “She is Tuesday Blue, the rest of us are her touring band.”

“Ah.” He nods. “You guys get into a lot of trouble?”

“No. The label has us on a tight leash,” I answer quickly so Tuesday doesn’t.

“Good. Bands can get too rowdy.” He adds.

“What do you consider too rowdy?” Tuesday asks.

I fight back a groan.

“What do you think?” he asks.