“You’re busy. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Bother away.” Bang!

“Um, well, I’m writing an interactive biography on the band.”

“So you’re the one who bent the support bar.” Bang! Bang!

Toni placed a hand on her belly. “I have been meaning to go on a diet.”

Colby laughed. “It’s already too late for that.” Bang! Something snapped into place. “Got it!” She slid out from under the platform and wiped her face on her sleeve.

Toni gaped at her. Not only was the band’s head stage engineer a woman, but she was ancient. Perhaps if Colby didn’t curse like a drunken rock star, Toni wouldn’t have been so stunned to find herself face to face with a woman old enough to be her grandmother.

“So you’re writing about the band and . . . ?” Colby twirled one hand at Toni to encourage her to get on with it.

“And I want to include a chapter on stage setup.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s interesting and not many people get to see all the work that goes into the show before it even starts.”

“Colby, are you ready to test it?” someone called under the stage.

“Give it a go!” she shouted. To Toni she asked, “So what do you want from me?”

“When you’re not busy, I’d like to ask you some questions and record some footage of the stage being erected and torn down. Maybe do a time-lapse video.” Toni nibbled on her lip, trying to come up with something that hadn’t been done a thousand times before. “Maybe one of the crew could wear a head camera as he goes about his work. That would pick up some really neat footage.”

Colby tilted her head and assessed her for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, I’ll talk to the crew and see if any of them are willing to be your guinea pig, and then I’ll let you know which day would work best for filming. They’re going to want to put on their makeup.”

Toni smiled. That had been easier than she’d anticipated. “Great!”

Metal groaned as Logan’s lift shuddered and rose several inches. “No good!” Colby yelled, and the grinding sound stopped. “Stupid fucking thing.”

“I won’t take any more of your time,” Toni said. “I hope you get the lift fixed.” Mostly because the man she loved had to ride that thing to the stage later that night.

“Oh, I’ll get it fixed.” Colby dropped down to slide under the metal platform again. Bang! Bang! Bang!

Toni emerged from beneath the stage and blinked in the sudden bright light. Crew members were testing the functioning platforms by riding them up and lowering them back down. Or maybe they were just goofing off since they seemed to be having a lot of fun taking turns launching each other onto the stage.

“There you are,” Logan said.

“Did Steve find you?”

“To brag about banging a pair of twins?” He grinned and nodded. “Yeah, he found me. What were you doing under the stage?”

“Talking to Colby about capturing footage of the crew at work.”

Logan nodded toward the stage, where one crew member had just catapulted off Dare’s lift with a loud yeehaw! “Are you sure that’s work?”

“Just because work is fun doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong,” she repeated what he’d told her a few days before.

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We’re getting ready to do one of Mad Dog’s famous sound checks. I thought you might want to get some work done and film it.”

“Famous sound checks?” She winked at him. “They can’t be too famous. I’ve never heard of them.”

“They’re legendary among soundboard operators. And they’re also fun.”

A legendary, fun sound check? Now this she had to see.

Toni immediately understood why Mad Dog had been given his nickname. With impressive jowls, small dark eyes, underbite and upturned nose, he looked like a bulldog. But not a mad dog—either angry or insane. He was incredibly nice to her as she stuck a camera in his face and asked how he’d met the band. But Toni supposed the nickname Friendly Dog wouldn’t have given the desired impression.

“Can I try first this time?” asked a cute blonde with lavender streaks in her hair.

“I don’t see why not,” Mad Dog said.

“How many soundboard operators does Exodus End have?” Toni asked.

“I’m FOH.” Mad Dog patted her hand and leaned close. “That stands for front of house,” he said quietly. “And Trevor is our monitor engineer. He’s up by the stage.”

Toni turned to the other two people in the barrier fence situated in the center of the arena. In addition to the blonde, there was a young man in a wheelchair. “So you two are?”

“Sorry,” the blonde said. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Rebekah Sticks, co-FOH for Sinners, and this is my big brother, Dave, who sometimes lets me touch his soundboard.”

“I’m also FOH for Sinners,” Dave said as he shook Toni’s hand.

“Is it usual to have two FOH engineers?” Toni asked.

“Nope,” Dave said, “but her husband’s with the band, so they won’t let me fire her.”

Rebekah slapped her brother on the shoulder, and he winced.

Mad Dog spoke into his microphone, and his voice was projected through the arena. “Sound check one.”

No less than fifteen men and a few women took the stage, each carrying a different electric guitar or bass. Toni spotted the familiar faces of the Exodus End guitarists, along with several Sinners’ band members and half a dozen people she didn’t recognize. Several loud blangs and pings blared from the speakers as the musicians arranged themselves on the stage. Some faced forward, but most formed mixed groups so they could chat with each other.

“What’s going on?” Toni asked.

“Mad Dog likes to show off,” Dave said.

“Hey,” Mad Dog said, “when you’ve done eighteen billion sound checks in your life, you have to do something to keep it entertaining.”

“I’m going to get it this time,” Rebekah said. She put on a set of headphones, flexed her fingers, and held them hovering over her soundboard sliders, buttons and switches as if she was about to play a rousing game of Whac-a-Mole.

Mad Dog’s voice came over the sound system again. “Ex-End will play ‘Bite.’ Sinners will play ‘Twisted.’ The rest of you just make some noise.”

“Twisted,” Rebekah whispered under her breath. “Focus. Focus.”

“And a one and a two and a three,” Mad Dog said.

Everyone onstage started playing at the same time. Toni cringed at the wailing, screeching cacophony blaring from the speakers. Face screwed up in concentration, fingers trembling, Rebekah began to move sliders on the giant soundboard in front of her. The raucous sounds coming from the speakers began to alter. The obnoxious blanging noises disappeared first, and then several blended melodies increased in volume. Rebekah raised one slider, cringed, and then shoved it back down before raising the one next to it. A few more adjustments, and Toni was astonished to hear the unmistakable music of “Twisted” blaring from the speakers. The drum track was missing and there were no vocals, but rhythm, bass, and lead guitar were all clear as day. Rebekah did a little dance of victory. Toni looked up to the stage and found everyone onstage was still playing. Sinners’ FOH had picked out the threads of her musicians based on sound alone.

Dave high-fived his sister. Toni would have high-fived her as well, but she was trying to hold her camera steady while she gawked at Rebekah in awe.

“Cut,” Mad Dog said. “Not bad. I heard only one mistake that time.”

He’d heard it?

Rebekah sighed. “Can’t get anything past this one,” she said as she pushed all the sliders to the top of the board.

“Do we have the mics ready?” Mad Dog said.

“Mic check.”

“Mic check.”

Mic check, mic check, mic check was repeated in different voices from various microphones all feeding into the same sound system.

“Vocalists take the stage,” Mad Dog said. “And Steve, get under there and give us a beat.”