Chapter 1: Coincidence?

Buster Blues, now 15 years old, burst out of the apartment shared by him, Mack and Elwood. The teenager shut the door, went down the stairs, and exited the building in a hurry. He tossed his house key in his pocket and took off down the street, not stopping until he reached the corner where the bus station was.

Taking up a bus map, he ascertained which one was to head to the further north side of town and boarded it when it came in. The ride would take a few minutes and Buster checked his watch, seeing that it was quarter to midnight. He heaved a heavy sigh, knowing that Elwood had just set off for Willie's to cover the late shift with Mack. The teen looked around furtively on the bus, checking for any faces that might be familiar to him, but there were none. Half in relief half in disappointment, he counted the stops until it was time for him to get off.

The teenager had been asleep in his bed when he heard a noise from the fire escape and he knew a thief had just come in. Elwood had taught him what to do in case that happened, as they did live in a slummy side of Calumet City, and Buster followed Elwood's instructions to the letter. He had immediately ducked in the closet, picked up his schoolbag, and stuffed some of his clothes in it. His cell phone and charger had been within easy reach, fortunately, and he managed to get out of the apartment without being noticed by the criminal.

"This your stop, kid?" the bus driver asked as he opened up the double doors with a rusty squeak. Buster checked the building out in the low light and grunted an affirmative. "Be careful, all right?" Buster thanked him politely and stepped through the doors to the apartment building. The building didn't have an admittance system with buzzers, so he walked right in, trying to remember which apartment it was exactly. Pulling out his cell phone, he leaned against the brick wall as he entered in a cell phone number and started a search.

"Upstairs and to the left," he muttered, clicking the phone off and pocketing it. Hoisting up his backpack, he started upstairs and took in the surroundings. The hallway was painted a pale green and it had dark paneling like the mismatching of the color scheme was deliberate, though it was very contemporary looking. A door adorned each side and a window was on the hallwa wall. Buster looked around carefully, not wanting to make a mistake, found apartment 9C. Three loud knocks later, the door opened up, revealing Melody Calloway.

"Buster," she let him in. "what happened?" he put his backpack down beside the couch and sat on a chair near the table. Melody sat down near him, still dressed in her jeans and pink t-shirt she had been wearing that day. The apartment had not altered its appearance in the last several years since Alan had moved back in with her, though some of her landscape pictures had been replaced with her and Alan in various scenes. Buster shot a look over to the biggest framed picture, which was of everyone in the band including himself. A framed photo of Jake stood on one wall shelf.

"Who is it?" called another voice from the bedroom.

"It's Buster, Alan." Melody called back.

"Sheesh, can't he tell time? Now's not the time for a visit!" he proclaimed, irritated at being woken up.

"Sorry, Alan." Buster told him.

"Alan, something's happened or Buster wouldn't be here right now. Don't you ever think about that? Old fart." Melody grumped good-naturedly, producing a snort from inside the bedroom. Buster giggled.

"Someone broke into our apartment. Elwood told me what to do when that happened, so I did it."

"Good. Can you text Elwood and tell him what happened? Also tell him you're staying here tonight so you'll be safe."

"Will do." Buster pulled out his phone again and nodded towards the bedroom. "Most old guys mellow out, do you think he has?"

"Alan? Hell, no!" Melody smirked. "I'm the loose one, he's the uptight one."

"You were uptight last night!" Alan spoke out. "Remember? I wanted to-"

"Not in front of Buster, you old fart!" Melody barked out quickly, turning an embarrassed shade of red. Buster laughed loudly as Melody told him he had to get ready for bed. The teen had shoved a long coat over his pajamas so he wouldn't arouse suspicion walking down to the bus station and he'd brought enough clothes for the next day or two. Melody situated him on the couch, made sure he was comfortable, and her cell phone went off.

"Thanks for taking care of the kid. He has school tomorrow and I'll pick him up tomorrow night. Mack's dealing with the cop report." she read aloud the text from Elwood. Buster yawned and fell asleep almost immediately as Melody turned off the light and left the living room.

Alan was waiting for Melody to come to bed, lying on his side and looking at her. She smiled and did a turn for him so he could admire her ass in jeans like he always did. The trumpet player always said that nothing made her ass look better than a well tailored pair of bootcut jeans. Winking at her, he watched as she put on her night attire and slid into bed next to him.

"Kid all right?" Alan draped his arms around her as she shut her eyes. Alan wasn't overtly fond of kids, but in the recent years they'd done summer tours and Buster had grown on everyone. He'd helped make set up a lot easier with Melody and he was an expert on doing sound checks now as well. The teen had taken up learning piano which Murph helped him with, and Buster was also learning some electric guitar from Matt and Steve.

Melody smiled. "Yes he is. Buster's very smart for his age."

"Tell me about it." the teenager had been curious about the trumpet, prompting Alan to give him a little primer on his instrument. Buster had dutifully listened, complimenting Alan on his playing skills. Neither Melody or Buster could make a sound come out of that instrument and both had joked that it didn't like them. Melody could read music, but she couldn't play an instrument to save her life.

"Before I forget, Mack called earlier on today. He said something about a string of gigs going down to Las Vegas."

"I'd love that." it was January, so they all would look forward to a winter warmer down in Sin City. Alan had a hard time getting his car out of the driveway after the last snowstorm and nearly hurt his left shoulder by the shoveling. Melody had to come down and show him how to rock the car out of the drift. Snowdrifts were rarely a problem for her, as she'd never fail to point it out to him. Melody had become a German engineering snob, pointing out the merits of all wheel drive and demonstrating her driving skills which never failed to make him nervous. Alan only tolerated it because he liked the car a lot and was thinking about getting another Mercedes. He'd had to ditch the 300SL as he'd dumped the clutch and it wasn't worth fixing and he'd had an offer for it he couldn't refuse. The SL line had been replaced with the SL AMG line, which was way out of his price range, but that didn't turn him off Mercs in general. Maybe he could work something out with Matt.

"Me too." sleep pulled them under.

Buster yawned and woke up at 6 AM so he would be ready for school at 7:30. Alan was already up, being an early riser by nature, and making up coffee. He had about 4 funerals to take care of that day so he had to be at the funeral home by 8 AM to get everything all set up. Melody was nowhere to be seen, but they heard some thumping around in the bedroom that told of her getting her clothes together for the day.

"Morning, Buster," Alan greeted him as he sat up. "you drink coffee yet?"

"Nah, not yet. I don't have a taste for it anyway." spying a goldfish bowl on a side table, he crossed over to look at it, kneeling down a little bit to see it clearly. "That's not a goldfish."

Alan chuckled. "No, that's a betta fish. He's a veiltail betta if I remember right." he stirred his coffee and took a drink of it, welcoming the warmth it brought on that chilly morning. The trumpet player liked it black and strong while Melody drank it on occasion, preferring the lighter cappuccino drinks and lattes.

"A what?" a small fish in shades of brilliant blue and red came out from behind a small resin statue of a sunken ship. The fish swam inquisitively up to Buster's finger and drew back, flaring his gills for a moment then stopped, evidentally deciding Buster was a friend and not foe.

"They're Siamese fighting fish," Alan explained. "you could only keep one male at a time or else they'll fight. I had one growing up."

"What's his name?"

"That one there's named Denali."

"Odd name." the fish swam around crazily like it didn't know where it was going.

"Want to give him a treat? See the jar with the yellow top on it?"

"Yup."

"Those are bloodworm bits. You can give him one." Alan sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out the newspaper from its plastic sleeve. "Mel will be up pretty soon. She's got meetings today." he took a drink and set the mug down with a small clunk. Buster watched Denali gulp down the bloodworm bit like he couldn't eat it fast enough. Chuckling, Buster watched as the fish swam in a circle and hightailed it back to the sunken ship.

"See you've met crazy Denali." Melody came into the room then, putting her hair up into a ponytail. She still worked part time for the law office firm, so she was wearing a pant suit in deep blue and a light blue long sleeved button up shirt. "He's a crazy son of a bitch." Melody dropped a pair of low heeled black pumps on the floor with a little rattle and stepped into them.

"How so?" Buster stood up.

"He likes to look at himself in the reflection of the glass and he gets mad. It's like he wants to fight himself." the engineer grinned widely. "I've seen him do it."

"Weird."

"I know. Ya hungry, kid?"

"Oh yes!"

"Help yourself. Alan, will you help me for a minute?" she held out a small amber heart necklace set in silver that he had given her for Christmas that year. Alan took it and fastened it around her neck, noticing she already had the earrings in. They set off her features nicely and she gave him a smile as he kissed her on the lips. After they were all done breakfast, Alan stood up and announced that he had to get to work. He kissed Melody, told Buster they would be on the road again soon, and left for the funeral home.

"Ready to go?" Melody buttoned on her long black greatcoat and hung her purse on one arm. Buster went downstairs with her and slid into the golden colored Audi. He pressed a wooden panel and it slid up neatly, retracting back, revealing a stereo system with an MP3 player input. The climate control looked needlessly complicated, but Buster wasn't going to touch it. It was cold outside and Melody put on her heated seat after explaining the control to Buster, he turned it on as well.

"Nice car!" it was the first time he'd ever been in it.

"Why thank you!" Melody slid the key in and turned it, firing it up. "I've been pro German car for several years and I don't regret it!" she slid the gearshift into drive and left the parking lot. Buster, too used to the Crown Victoria that Elwood drove, ran his fingers along the rich leather and the wood paneling. The car purred and every down or upshift in gear was smooth, though Buster could barely hear the engine running. It seemed to glide in and out of traffic until they pulled up in the drop off zone for the high school.

A few kids gaped at the car, making Buster feel good. Melody caught his glance and laughed as he opened up the door, pulling his backpack out with him. "Thanks for the lift. Are you picking me up?"

"What time do you get out?"

"Two PM."

"All right, I'll be here."

"See you then. Thanks!" he shut the door and walked off as Melody drove out of the circle.

"Is that the one for the morning service?" Alan asked as two of the attendants brought in a casket.

"Yes sir." one answered him.

"Room 4." there was to be a viewing and a makeup person had to attend to the remains. It was an optional service that many families took, though Alan didn't like the idea personally. He believed that someone should be remembered of how they looked in life rather than in death. Melody thought the same way as he did, telling him that she absolutely forbade viewing when her aunt and father died. There had been pictures in front of the caskets to remind people of what they looked like in life and nothing else. Alan doubted the memory of a loved one lying in a box would be of any comfort to anyone, but he was just the funeral director.

"Right away, Mr. Rubin." he helped them wheel the casket in and shut the door. Downstairs, his associates were waiting for him as he had to retrieve a body from a hospital morgue. The family was Jewish and to his knowledge, the burials usually happened very soon after the death had occurred. It had been a nuisance to him and his staff, but he didn't want to offend anyone so he took it as it came. It was business to him after all and he couldn't afford to be picky.

In the converted Cadillac hearse, he drove to Calumet General with another one of his staff and pulled into the cargo bay area where the hospital received its supplies. A smaller garage door on the left was the one he wantd, so he backed up the hearse near the door and parked it. He and his associate went into the morgue office and called for the attendant.

The attendant noted the pickup time on a legal document that had been signed off by the executor of the estate, the attendant signed to confirm that the body had been transferred to the funeral home, and Alan countersigned that as well. He and his associate, along with the attendant, took the body in the plastic black bag it was encased in, and loaded it up into the hearse.

Back at the funeral home, Alan checked that the 4 funerals that day were going along smoothly as possible, then he completed the paperwork, called the groundskeepers at Greengrove and Beechwood cemeteries to let them know what was going on. Two of his associates went to bring one body to a memorial service, two more tended to another service, and Alan had to go with the third and fourth services. Fortunately they were within an hour of each other, and both were within the same cemetery.

Content to let one of his associates drive that day, he settled back in the Cadillac and waited for the light to change. The band had toured last summer, their popularity had gone up since the battle of the bands years ago, and it was during their last gig in Toronto that the crowd had gotten rowdy towards the end and the guitar section had been the target of some drunkards. It had been at the end of the night and the gig was over, when Matt, Duck and Steve got accosted backstage by some drunkards who'd managed to get in past security. Alan had grabbed Mack, who was built more like a bouncer than anyone else, to deal with the 3 drunks. Mack was well versed in self defense, as his years at Willie's had taught him many things. The bartender was attending the gym with Melody once a week and the drunks never had a chance with him around. Mack had thrown them out with ridiculous ease, the guitar players were happy that none of them had gotten hurt, and Alan was pleased to see that Mack could stand his ground. He'd been impressed with Mack's voice and the way he almost made it sound like Johnny Cash on some occasions.

"We're here." the driver announced, turning the hearse around and backing up to the main door. Alan got out with a sigh.

The third service ran late and by the time they were done, Alan was about ready to deck the executor of the estate one in the face. The pompous ass acted like a spoiled brat and commandeered the service, making it all about himself and how he had to live with his mom who was wasting away from disease. By the looks of the mourners assembled in the church, Alan knew that this idiot was far too used to getting his own way, probably by his mom spoiling him during childhood. He clenched his hands and inwardly prayed that the service would be over soon. When it became clear that it was going to drag on, he had to make a point.

Clearing his throat and standing up, he said loudly, "Sorry, but I have another funeral today to do. We need to finish up here."

There were several relieved looks among the people and the pompous man glowered at him but he got his way.

At Beechwood cemetery, Alan chattered with the groundskeeper a distance away from the graveside service and when it concluded, he helped the groundskeeper and the vault delivery person put the casket in a vault, seal on the lid, and took the lowering device off the gravesite. The vault person attached lines to it, used the crane on the back of the truck to pick it up and lower it into the hole.

Alan's job was done there, so he let the groundskeeper fill in the hole while he did the same thing to the other grave. After all his years doing the job, cemeteries still creeped him out, though Melody told him she thought they were very serene and comforting to the bereaved, to know their loved one's remains were put in such a tranquil place. Jake wasn't buried at Beechwood, which relieved the trumpet player in a small way, knowing that Jake's spirit wasn't watching him. It was odd but he felt that way whenever he visited the late bandmember's grave. Melody spoke of that once or twice, but far from creeping her out, it comforted her. Alan had looked at her like she was crazy, but if that was how she felt, he wasn't going to argue with it.

"Hey hey!" Melody honked the Audi's horn as she pulled up to behind the hearse. Alan's smile brightened as he saw her. "Fancy lunch out with your old lady?" they still were not married, but jokingly called each other husband and wife. Alan had been starting to think he wanted to at least get engaged to her. Melody had never given voice to any thoughts of marriage or engagement to his knowledge.

"Sure, why not? Jerry, I'll be back at the home in an hour." he called out to the driver and left the graveyard.

"So where do you want to go?" Melody signaled for a turn and left the side street.

"How about Applebee's?"

"Sounds good to me!" Melody's cell phone buzzed but she ignored it. Alan had a cell phone for work but other than that, he didn't own a personal one. He could almost always be around Melody and it wasn't unusual for bandmembers to text her and ask him to call them on their cell phones. Melody loved technology and was always immersed in it, more than making up for Alan's lack of technology on his part. Educating him was a real challenge and sometimes she just didn't get through.

"This asshole of one of the funerals today really set my teeth on edge."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Everything was about himself, just the me me me thing."

"Spoiled brat syndrome?"

"You got it. He spent most of the time telling everyone what great care he took of his sick mom, never giving anyone else a chance to speak at all. What a pig!"

"Now his mommy's gone and he'll have to start finding new ways to annoy people."

"I would hope that asswipe's learned some humility after that." they pulled into the driveway of the restaurant and Melody parked the car. Locking it with a flick of the remote, she tucked her keys in her purse and allowed Alan to join hands with her as they went in.

The restaurant was deserted so they had the whole place to themselves. Putting in their order, they gossiped about their work and Alan asked her how the meetings wore.

"Stupid. I'm just the receptionist, I don't need to know anything about those morons I work for anyway."

"What are you doing this afternoon?"

"I'm picking up Buster from school at 2," she answered him. "then after we get his situation straightened out, I was thinking about repairing the amps I have from the music repair shop." Melody freelanced for several music shops including Ray's Music Exchange. She had been taking repair courses in fixing instruments, mostly brass. It was fortunate that by coincidence, Alan had a stuck valve in his trumpet and she loosened it up by applying a very small dose of an acid.

When 2 PM rolled around, Melody was ready to pick up Buster. She pulled into the drop off and pick up zone and put the car in park, idling for a few minutes. Something wasn't right, she knew that in a flash. The schoolyard was completely silent when it should have been full of kids boarding the busses to get home.

The engineer saw a mother and her teenage daughter run from the front doors. Lowering her window, Melody shouted, "What's going on?"

"Fire!" the mother barked out and kept moving. Melody saw a telltale plume of smoke billowing out of the building and she reversed the car, driving around to the back. Parking it hastily, she moved through the throngs of teenagers shouting Buster's name.

"Melody!" Buster flung himself at her, nearly knocking her down. She embraced him tightly and after telling Buster's teacher she was taking him home, they got into the Audi and left. White faced and shaking, Buster could hardly fasten his seatbelt on. He was in shock and Melody knew it would take a little bit of time for him to process what had happened and she held off questioning him until they arrived back at the apartment.

Once they were safe behind the brick walls of the apartment complex, Buster sat down on the sofa and answered a text message from Elwood. Melody's phone buzzed and it was a text from Mack, saying that he and Elwood were on their way over right away. The fire had been on the news and everyone was worried now. Buster had to send out a text to all the bandmembers, telling them that he was all right. Melody thought that perhaps there had been a connection with the robbery and the fire to target Buster, but she wouldn't tell him her suspicions yet. He didn't need the extra worry.

"Can you tell me what happened, Buster?" she asked soothingly.

He looked at her, his blue eyes still wide with fright and before he knew it, it all came flooding out. "I was in science class dissecting a frog, and I don't really know how the fire happened, but something exploded in the back and it hit a trash can, igniting it on fire. The room got really dark and smoky, I couldn't see, but I remembered to get down on the floor and crawl towards the door. Then I got out and just stood there with the others. One of my friends told me that he heard someone calling my name and I saw you."

"You're not hurt anywhere?"

"No."

"You're one extremely smart and lucky boy-excuse me, man." she amended with a little smile. Buster grinned. At that same moment, the door burst open, revealing Elwood and Mack. After fervent hugging and reassuring the others that he was all right, Buster explained to them what had gone on and they calmed down some.

"Thank you, Melody." Elwood and Mack took it in turns to hug her.

"None necessary. I just wanted to make sure that Buster here was all right. How about the apartment?"

"Well, I filed a breaking and entering cop report, but the weird thing is that nothing was stolen." Mack replied. "I can't understand it. Buster's Wii, the laptop and our cell phones were still there."

"Very strange." Elwood echoed.

"Buster, you want to feed Denali over there? Just take a few fish flakes from the jar and break 'em up into smaller pieces, then sprinkle them on the water." she handed him a small jar with a red top.

"Sure." Buster went over to the bowl and knelt down, doing what Melody told him to. Denali wiggled his fins and steered himself right for the food, shooting upwards like a missile launching.

"Guys," Melody said in a whisper. "I think these incidents are targeted to Buster."

"Isn't it too soon to be thinking like that?" Mack questioned.

"I hope to God that I'm wrong." she answered. "We should be aware."

"Should we warn him?"

"No, Elwood. I don't want him feeling like he's to blame for all this." Mack said immediately.

"I defer to Mack for that," Melody agreed. "this is between us and we should tell the band anyway."

"Agreed."

"Good. We start packing up tomorrow and we have some gigs before we reach Vegas." Elwood became businesslike. "There's a winter festival thing going on, a few blues venues, but the granddaddy of them all will be in Vegas."

"Which place, El?"

Elwood grinned widely. "Treasure Island at the Bellagio."

"Oh, nice!" Melody was excited already. Last summer they'd done a Canadian tour of Ottawa and Ontario, and Melody enjoyed it, but she still preferred going south where it was warmer. The door opened up again and Alan came in, going over to them and spying Buster.

"I'm glad you're all right, kid," he sank down in an armchair. "I heard on the news driving home of the fire and I don't own a cell phone."

Buster looked a little amazed at Alan, who was one of the least emotional people he'd ever known. Alan liked to joke around and all that, but he never let his other emotions show except a little impatience now and then. The teenager didn't think anything of what the three were talking about before Alan came in as he stood up and brushed the dirt off of his jeans. Denali tried to follow him, launching himself at the surface of the water like a miniature blue torpedo, then he stopped and eyed the teenager as he walked over to the others.

"Damn! Mel, can you help me get this thing off?" Alan stood up, fingers all tangled together in his tie. Melody sighed and stood up.

"How you play a trumpet when you can't even undo a tie is beyond me." Mack and Elwood laughed as Alan shot her a death glare. "At least you're not looking British anymore."

"Ascots were easier to tie." he retorted, going back to the bedroom to change. Melody turned her head to see the three men behind her laughing openly now.

"So who wants supper, yes?" having partaken of her fare before, all of them were eager to accept the invitation. Buster was old enough now to help her more and she set him to work. Since Alan didn't like to cook much, Melody had gladly taken over. When she was a kid, she had loved to help her father in the kitchen and he passed on his recipe for the perfect spaghetti sauce and meatballs. Melody followed the recipe to the letter, the smell of the simmering sauce taking her back to her childhood. Buster was practically slobbering all over himself by the time she dished it up.

"That was amazing," Elwood complimented her when they were done. His color looked better as well, as Melody suspected he didn't really take care of himself very well. Whenever he came over, she would try to feed him up a bit. The singer only resisted feebly, too happy to do her skill justice.

"Save room for the dessert," she said teasingly. "I'm glad I made these yesterday."

"What are they?" even Alan didn't know.

"It's called panna cotta."

"Where is it from?" Mack helped her bring out the small bowls.

"Italy. It's a cross between pudding and a gelatine." they all dug in.

"So what do you think?" a few hours later after the trio had gone home, Melody parked herself next to Alan on the couch, telling him of her suspicions.

He glanced over at her as she flicked on the TV. "It could make a lot of sense, Mel. We know nothing of Buster's background, his parents and all that. It's a real mystery."

"One I would prefer not knowing of," she grunted. "if his dad or mom have come back to take him away, they can't. The adoption was finalized and irreversible. Buster's happy where he is."

"Damn straight. Anyway, maybe you're blowing this up out of proportion. Coincidence."

"Not to me, but I hope you're right, Alan." her eyelids started to close as he put an arm around her. Soon she was dozing off but still faintly aware of what was going on around her.

"Sure you're all packed for tomorrow, Mel?" Alan glanced over at her and turned off the TV. Melody gave off a noise that sounded like a yes and shaking his head with a small grin on his face, Alan pecked her on the forehead, bringing her to bed.