An Aria for Nick (Christian Romantic Suspense) (Song of Suspense) Read online

  AN ARIA FOR NICK TITLE PAGE

  Part 2 of the Song of Suspense series

  a Novel by

  Published by

  Olivia Kimbrell Press

  COPYRIGHT NOTICE

  An Aria for Nick, a novel, part 2 of the Song of Suspense series

  First edition. Copyright © 2013 by Hallee Bridgeman. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or recording — without express written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or broadcasted reviews. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  Some scripture quotations courtesy of the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

  Some scripture quotations courtesy of the New King James Version of the Holy Bible, Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas-Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  Cover Art by Debi Warford (www.debiwarford.com)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-939603-11-1 (Olivia Kimbrell Press)

  ISBN-10: 1-939603-11-0

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-939603-12-8 (Olivia Kimbrell Press)

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Olivia Kimbrell Press*

  P.O. Box 4393

  Winchester, KY 40392

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, places, locales or to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or publisher. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  *Olivia Kimbrell Press is a publisher offering true to life, meaningful fiction from a Christian worldview intended to uplift the heart and engage the mind.

  DEDICATION

  THIS BOOK IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO …

  My Dad, retired U. S. Army Sergeant Major William "Bill" Poe, who so patiently served as an advisor to me when I wrote the first draft of the book many years ago.

  I love you, Daddy, and am SO proud to be your daughter. Thank you for constantly supporting and encouraging me.

  ¯¯¯¯

  CHAPTER 1

  COLUMBUS, GEORGIA NEAR FORT BENNING

  TWELVE YEARS AGO

  "WAKE up, birthday girl!" Aria Suarez buried herself deeper under the covers. "Aria, honey, time to wake up!"

  With a groan, Aria stretched and slowly sat up. She could hear her mother at the base of the stairs and knew that if she didn't get up, one of her brothers would soon arrive to retrieve her. They could be relentless. A few minutes of extra sleep were not worth the torment that would cause, especially on her eighteenth birthday.

  She stumbled from her bedroom and into the bathroom where she turned on the shower and closed the shower curtain, letting the hot water make the long morning journey up the old pipes from the water heater in the basement. She leaned against the wall and waited for the mirror to start to steam. As she looked out through the window and noticed the dark pre-dawn sky, she made a silent resolution that she would take only afternoon classes in college, and find work that never required her to wake before dawn.

  Aria showered quickly, then stumbled back to her room and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. She heard a tap on the door and looked up as her mother walked in, carrying a cup of coffee. Aria gratefully accepted the hot cup and eagerly enjoyed the first sip. "Thanks, Mom."

  Doris Suarez regarded her youngest child, a little grin playing about her lips. Aria imagined what her mother must be feeling. Perhaps a little tug at realizing that the last of her babies had grown into adulthood. Out of four children, Aria was not only the baby but also the only girl — so very different from her brothers. She even looked different.

  Her brothers had all inherited their father's dark looks and height, while Aria was petite with blonde hair, more like her mother. The only traces of her Hispanic heritage were her caramel brown eyes and skin that looked just dark enough to imitate a healthy tan.

  Aria ran her hands through her short blonde hair and sat on the side of her bed to wiggle her toes into her shoes. "Is Daddy still here?" she asked.

  "No. He left a couple of hours ago. He tried to wake you, but said you wouldn't budge." Aria's father served in the United States Army. He had made the Army his career and a way of life for his family. They currently enjoyed the duty station at Fort Benning, Georgia.

  Aria rubbed her eyes and put her head in her hands, trying to banish the cobwebs from her brain. "No big deal. We had such a big party Saturday."

  "He said to tell you, and I quote, 'God has truly blessed this family with such an amazing daughter.' He prayed for you this morning, thanking God for your talent with music and for your sharp mind."

  Aria smiled despite her drowsiness. Sometimes she thought she could listen to her father pray all day. She started to feel the caffeine hit her bloodstream, and willed it to help her wake up. She hated mornings, especially Monday mornings. "How many more days until Spring Break?"

  Doris Suarez laughed and kissed the top of her only daughter's head. "Another cup of coffee, and you'll be ready to face the day, dear." She started to walk out of the room, and stopped at the door. "Your brothers are all downstairs, awake and waiting to wish you Happy Birthday," she confided. Aria groaned, making her mother laugh. "John is even making you waffles."

  John was Aria's eldest brother, eight years her senior, and a police officer in Atlanta, home on vacation for five days past New Year's Day, having worked over Christmas. Then there was Henry, who was twenty-five and a third year medical student. Finally, Adam, who was twenty-one and going to college in California learning to make movies and write screenplays. Henry and Adam each had another week before school started back for them.

  "Tell them I'm on my way," Aria said, and bent to gather her books. She packed up her backpack, grabbed her coffee cup from her dresser, then made her way downstairs. She walked through the living room and pushed open the kitchen door, ignoring Henry who made some laughing comment about it being a beautiful morning. John stood at the counter, pouring batter into the waffle iron as Adam poured a cup of coffee. She walked up behind Adam and rested her forehead against his back while she set her coffee cup in front of him for a refill.

  "Aria, it can't be good for you to be that dependent on caffeine. You're barely eighteen," John said, crossing his arms.

  "I wouldn't have to be if they didn't start school around here at the ungodly hour of seven-twenty," Aria mumbled. "I miss Washington. They didn't start there until eight-ten." Her cup full, she grabbed it and flopped down at the table. She crossed her arms, resting her head on her folded wrists as the coffee cup warmed her palms. She heard someone set a plate on the table and the smell of waffles with softened butter and real maple syrup filled her senses. Her mouth started watering, so she lifted her head and saw all three of her brothers standing around the table staring at her and grinning. "What are you staring at?" she asked. She put a hand to her hair to make sure nothing was sticking up anywhere.

  "Happy Birthday, Aria," Adam said. Henry pulled a small box wrapped up in a page from the Sunday comics out of his pocket. The large pink bow adorning it looked slightly crushed.

  She took the box and stared down at it for a moment. "But you already gave me presents," she said. For some reason, she felt tears tickling the corner of her eyes and an unexpected tightness in the back of her throat.

  "Didn't you wonder why we got you things like socks and stationery?" Ada
m asked.

  "I didn't really think about it," Aria whispered as she ripped the paper off the box. She opened the lid and her mouth dropped open in shock. The tears had moved to cloud her eyes, and threatened to spill over. Her hand shook a little as she retrieved the single key nestled in a bed of tissue paper.

  "Come outside, Aria," John said.

  She flew out of her chair and into the arms of the closest brother, laughing and crying. She went to each one, kissing and hugging them in turn, then dashed outside. Parked at the curb under a streetlight was a shiny little black sports car with a big pink ribbon around it. She turned back around to look toward where they all stood on the porch, watching her with grins on their faces. "How … ?"

  "Adam and I had extra money after last semester was over with, and John here has good credit," Henry said.

  "Real good credit," Adam said, elbowing John in the ribs. "Besides, when you become a world famous pianist, you can buy us all cars."

  "Make mine a Viper!" John enthused.

  She went back to them and kissed each one of them on their unshaven cheeks again. "You guys are awesome," she said. Then she ran to the car and stood at the driver's door. "Come on. Let's go for a ride."

  ¯¯¯¯

  "AND there it sat all shiny and black," Aria bragged. She stood at her locker, talking with her best friend, Carol Mabry.

  "We're still talking about your brothers, right? The Brothers' Suarez? I didn't know they had it in them to be that sweet," Carol teased.

  "Every once in a while they throw me a bone," Aria said. "Apparently, my parents didn't have anything to do with it." She glanced up and felt her pulse pick up. Nick Williams walked toward her.

  She remembered how she had smiled for days after discovering that his locker was next to hers this year. Since her sophomore year she'd had a very strong, very serious crush on him. She had even joined JROTC to try to get him to notice her. It hadn't worked. Other than to bark orders of a military capacity at her, he never even looked at her of his own volition. He reached his locker and spun the dial without even glancing in her direction. "Hey, Nick," she greeted, a little breathless.

  He looked down at her, an annoyed look on his face. She could have sworn that she had to swallow around her heart when his eyes met hers. Ice blue was the only way she knew how to describe them, nearly silver, with lashes any woman would envy. His dirty blond hair was cut military short, his nose slightly crooked, and he had a little scar on his chin. It served to give him a daring, somewhat dangerous bad-boy look. Also, he was tall. She barely reached his shoulder. When she noticed he had a fresh bruise on one cheek, unexpected anger surged through her mind. The black eye he had last week had barely faded, and now he already had another bruise.

  "Suarez," he answered evenly, responding to her greeting. "Don't be late again this afternoon," he cautioned as he grabbed his U. S. History textbook and slammed his locker. She watched him walk away without a backward glance.

  They served on the JROTC rifle team together and had a match on Friday. Nick was the best shot in the state, and Aria had been hoping that he might finally notice her if she joined the team, too. So, she'd joined, despite her intense piano lessons and practice schedule. Apparently, the time and sacrifice hadn't worked, because he still only called her by her last name.

  "You need to give up on that boy," Carol said.

  Aria shook her head sharply. "Never."

  Carol slammed her locker shut. "He thinks you're too good for him."

  Aria pursed her lips, considering. "Seems like I should be the judge of that," she concluded as she and Carol made their way to Physics class.

  ¯¯¯¯

  CHAPTER 2

  ARIA lay her head on the thick chemistry book and felt little fingers of frustration mingled with dawning panic work their way up and down her spine. How could she possibly understand this stuff?

  She heard the heavy footsteps of one of her brothers come into the room and looked up, feeling her cheeks flush with color when she saw her brother, Henry. He had always had a mind for science, and was apparently excelling in medical school.

  "Why the long face and, you know, the defensive body language?" He pulled a bottle of soda out of the fridge and sat across from her.

  "Because I am sinking in Chemistry. I just can't — I just don't get it. And the school I want to go to is going to look at academics as much as my music."

  He twisted the top of the bottle off and took a long pull of the cold drink. "Which school did you decide on again?"

  "Eastman. At the University of Rochester."

  He whistled low under his breath. "I guess it's good you're not only a musical prodigy but also have straight A's besides, then."

  "Had."

  "Had?"

  "Yeah. Had. I had straight A's. Now I have a B."

  "Ah," he said with a nod. "Chemistry."

  "Which I know is your best subject, so I don't want to hear how easy it is." She slapped the book closed and leaned back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest.

  He too leaned back and stared at her with their father's dark brown eyes until she wanted to fidget under his gaze. Finally, he said, "Maybe you need to look at it from a different angle."

  Sarcastically, she spun the book around, knitted her eyebrows at the upside- down text, and announced, "I'm not seeing how that helps."

  "Cute." He took another pull of the drink. "When you look at music, do you think, 'C-note plus F-sharp equals whatever'? Or, do you hear the music in your head?"

  Aria spun the book back around and opened it up to the center page, which contained the periodic table of elements. Maybe she understood where her brother was going. "I hear it."

  "You hear it. What's that like? How does that work in your head?"

  Aria considered. "I don't just hear it. I can kind of see the entire piece like a road map in my head. The base and treble staffs are different colors and the sounds are bright or dark, you know?"

  Henry nodded. "What you're saying is that you can visualize the information that the sheet music is conveying. Like a code."

  Aria sat up a little straighter. "Okay. That seems right."

  Confidently, Henry said, "It seems right because it is right. When I see a list of elements, like H2O, I think 'water,'" he waved his hand and conceded, "or ice or steam — but I don't ever think, 'two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen equals water.' I don't decode it. I already know the code just like you already know how to read music."

  Aria leaned forward, suddenly interested. Her brother said, "Look." He spun the book back around to face her. "You don't say in your head each letter like C-H-E-M-I-S-T-R-Y then announce 'chemistry!' You see that word on that textbook and your mind visualizes something. Maybe your classroom or your teacher or a recent experiment or a pop quiz you just choked on. You visualize the information. Right?"

  Aria nodded. "Go on."

  "Every good boy does fine. Face." He recited the anagrams for musical notation. "In every combination on that musical staff, all the 'letters' in the musical octaves whether sharp or flat; they don't convey notes. They convey music. They convey information."

  He gestured toward the book. "The alphabet? Sheet music? Computers? Chemistry? It's all just code. The code is not the information, baby sister. Information is information. The code just conveys the information. The combination of musical notes or the combination of letters in words or the elements from the periodic table, in the end it's just a code. You're sitting here so wrapped up in the code that you are missing the information."

  He leaned forward and clapped. "Try this. Try to think of the elements in the periodic table as music, or try to think of music as elements. Try to compose with them. See where that takes you."

  She stared at the chart in the book long after he left. As she considered what he said and redirected the way her brain looked at the chart, suddenly the elements came to life for her. Going back to the beginning of the book and working forward toward her current chapter, the
chemistry started to make sense. No longer did it feel like this worthless jumble of letters and numbers that made no sense to her. As she looked at it from another angle, it all became much clearer.

  Excited, she pulled a sheet of paper toward her and began writing as quickly as she could, unscrambling a semester's worth of information and restructuring it so that she understood it. She was completely unaware that the entire time she wrote, she hummed what an outside observer would hear as a completely tuneless song.

  ¯¯¯¯

  NICK opened his eyes, instantly alert. A glance at the clock revealed that it was barely after six, and he relaxed slightly. He had feared he would sleep in after last night. His old man rarely got that violent anymore, not since Nick had gotten big enough to hit back. As he lay there he took inventory, slowly testing his body for any permanent damage. He had a nasty bruise on his left cheek and his right arm was bruised from the wrist to the elbow. He winced a little when he touched his ribs, but after a more thorough examination, decided nothing was broken this time.

  Nick got out of bed quietly and made his way to the bathroom. Roaches scurried toward the corners when he turned on the light, and Nick shuddered at the sight of them. He hated the filth in which he lived. If the Army took recruits with a GED instead of a high school diploma, he would have already joined. Four more months.

  He went back to his room and threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then grabbed his bag and his jacket. He moved through the tiny trailer as quietly as possible, trying not to kick one of the many beer cans that littered the floor. In the front room, he automatically wrinkled his nose at the smell of old urine, unwashed sweat, and stale smoke. More cans and bottles littered the floor in that room, mingled with takeout cartons and cigarette butts.