Trent rolled over and checked his email on his phone. Nothing. Tonight was the last show before they had a week off. He’d been hoping to hear from Tessa before then. Shit.
How hard could it be to find a woman and a little girl? He sat up and took a pull from the whiskey bottle he’d left on the nightstand the night before. Damn it, even alcohol was losing its appeal. First groupies, then drugs, now alcohol. What was next? Food? Music? Air?
He located Tessa in his contacts. “Any news?”
“I ran a background on her, but I was waiting to hear from my PI to send it to you.”
“Give me what you’ve got so far.”
“Jennifer Hammerstrom. Twenty-three. Bookkeeper at the Agora Ballroom in Cleveland. Last known address is two seven oh eight nine West Highland apartment four C, but the place is empty. Her rent is paid through the month, but her landlord said she left town.”
The venerable Cleveland Agora is closed and has been for a long time. It’s been closed so long that the last show I saw there was Savatage, which later turned into the Trans Siberian Orchestra. Yeah, that long ago. I bring up the fact that I saw Savatage to my brother at least once a year because I like to needle him about the fact that I saw his favorite band before he did. Indeed, before they became the band that is now his favorite.
The venue where Jenny works, though called the Cleveland Agora, is actually based on the State Theater in Playhouse Square in Cleveland. I had a job once where I had to arrange an awards dinner of the stage of the State Theater that was going to be broadcast live on a classical music station. (Yes, Cleveland has a classical music station. NPR, too.) Arranging that event just about killed me, but it gave me the opportunity to go all over the State Theater, which was not an opportunity that I had with the Cleveland Agora. (I keep saying Cleveland Agora on the off chance that the reader might confuse it with the Akron Agora, which is also closed.)