Eternal Love: The Dance (Book One: Eternal Love Series)

Chapter 8

A couple days later, Dale and Whitney were in the bus in downtown Houston taking it for a wash while everyone else took a little break from the road at a Hilton hotel besides Morgan, who went to her house in Houston to take care of her cats. As Dale drove thinking of the coming months with the tour, his phone began to ring. George was calling. "Hello!" He answered. "Hey, Dale. I need a favor," George responded. "And that is?" Dale asked. "Could you run and get my performing outfits from Morgan's house?" He asked. "Sure, but it's gonna cost ya!" Dale said. George sighed. "How many beers?" He asked. Dale thought a moment. "Three," Dale said. "Only three?" George asked, surprised. "Cases," Dale said. George choked slightly on his sweet tea. "Three cases?" He exclaimed in disbelief. "Yup!" Dale said as he turned onto Morgan's street. "Fine," George said and hung up. "Whitney!" Dale hollered from the driver's seat. She walked from the bathroom as the bus jerked to a stop, causing her to almost fall. She flicked Dale's ear. "Watch it!" Whitney said sternly. "What do you want?" Dale rubbed where she flicked. "Go inside and get George's new performing outfits from Morgan," he said. She shot him a scary stare. He inched back in his seat. "Please?" He squeaked. She smiled. "There we go!" Whitney said. She walked off the bus and knocked on the door of Morgan's single bedroom house. The door creaked open, and Morgan looked outside, staring Whitney up and down. "Come in!" She said, opening the door for Whitney. Whitney walked in as Morgan went into the kitchen. When Whitney looked around the room, a slight chill ran up her spine. Everywhere she looked was some kind of George Taylor merchandise. There were records, books, guitar picks, and tee-shirts covering every inch of the walls. There were even Polaroid photos of George pinned to the wall. Newspaper clippings of him. You name it, and it was most likely there. Whitney looked around the room, her jaw hung open in disturbed shock. Morgan walked in, holding the outfits on her arm. "Please, excuse my mess," she said, reading Whitney's disturbed face. Whitney laughed uncomfortably. "I'm surprised George didn't come and get this stuff!" Morgan said, trying to change the subject. "Yeah," Whitney said, trying to leave politely. She grabbed the clothes off of Morgan's arm. "Well, bye!" She said awkwardly. Then she turned and speed walked to the bus. "What are you in a rush for?" Dale asked, almost jokingly. "Just get us the hell away from here." Dale looked curiously at Whitney, but seeing her serious expression, he gassed it out of that neighborhood. "You want to tell me what happened back there?" said Dale, obviously concerned. "It was the creepiest thing I'd ever seen," Whitney started. "What was it?" Dale asked. "That house is a shrine to George." Dale laughed at this but stopped seeing her serious expression. "You're serious?" Dale asked, shocked. Whitney nodded her head. "We need to tell George," she said. Dale thought for a second. "Let's wait until after the tour," Dale said. "That's when we can get close enough to him to talk without her being around constantly." Dale pulled the bus out of the neighborhood, and back to the hotel, thinking of the situation. Surely, George wasn't in any danger. Morgan may have been a little obsessed, but surely she wouldn't hurt him, right?