I wandered in a little further, glancing around at all the corners, but it didn't change anything. Beer bottles were strewn around the room, along with open guitar cases, stray cords and more articles of clothing. I realized even their instruments were gone, so they must be set up somewhere either on the stage or right next to it.
Walking out, I wandered over to the security guard.
"Hey," I said. "Have you seen Jaden? You know...the singer. Eye of Morris. Black hair, blue eyes, six feet plus...?"
The big, no-neck guy in the club t-shirt gave me a sheepish look. I don't know any other way to describe it than that. Clearly, he had seen Jaden, but didn't want to tell me. Or, more likely, he'd been specifically told not to tell me. Or tell anyone, maybe.
Not sure I wanted to interpret what that meant, I let my voice grow more pointed.
"I'm not going to bug him," I said. "Honest. I just want to wish him luck."
"I haven't seen him. Not recently," he added, still avoiding my eyes.
I decided it wasn't worth pressing. People like him probably got instructions all the time to keep girlfriends and family and whoever else away from members of their headlining bands. Not losing his job probably depended in part on his ability to keep his mouth shut.
Biting my lip a little at the thought, I turned and wandered deeper under the stage. I thought maybe I could at least find their manager, Randy, and ask him. Randy smoked a lot of pot, so could often be found in dark corners, especially before a big show.
That part of the backstage area was deserted, too, probably because security blocked it off so that there was only access to the stage from the one side. Where I was now looked more like storage for the club itself.
I was almost to the other side of the corridor when I heard a giggle I recognized. I froze.
I felt my breath stop, even before I'd put a face to that laugh.
The laugh came again while I was standing there. The band on stage must be between songs; I could hear the echo of the lead singer's voice above me, addressing the audience. I couldn't make out most of his words, but he was loud. Loud enough that I knew I likely wouldn't have heard anything at all if they'd actually been playing music.
Fighting not to react, I turned, looking in the direction from which the giggle originated. A set of three doors stood there. One was a few inches ajar.