A Chorus Lineup (A Glee Club Mystery) (22 page)

Killer sniffed at Marshall’s hand. Absently, Marshall reached into his pants pocket and pulled out another piece of jerky. Meanwhile, I considered the importance of his words.

“Did you catch the man’s name?”

“If I did, I can’t recall.”

Before Marshall could wonder why I was so interested, I asked, “Would you mind telling me what he looked like?”

“Dark skin. Short hair. I’d guess he was around my grandson’s age. Or maybe I just thought he was in his early twenties because he was wearing a University of Tennessee sweatshirt.” He smiled again. “My grandson wears his all the time. The two don’t look anything alike, but the boy was polite, just like my Jimmy. And he seemed so upset that he was late and I had to move boxes that I offered him a hand carrying the boxes to his car. The boxes weren’t very big, but they were sure heavy.”

“Did you happen to look in the boxes?” He stiffened and I hurried to add, “I know when I move boxes at our school, they aren’t always sealed well. The flaps have a tendency to come up, which gives me a peek inside. If the boxes weren’t sealed, I figured you might have gotten a glimpse of whatever was packed in them.”

Marshall didn’t look convinced with my improv skills. “Why would that be important to you? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Good question. Lucky for me I had a good answer. “I was wondering if maybe you should talk to the police. You see, the woman who called you also packed those boxes. She was killed not too far from where your car is parked. The cops are inside right now, interviewing people to determine whether her death was an accident or something more.”

“Holy crap.” He blushed and tipped his cap again. “Pardon my language, ma’am. I was surprised. And I guess maybe I should talk to the police. The jars in those boxes weren’t marked. At first I thought they were empty, but the minute I picked up one of the boxes I realized they were filled with clear liquid. Probably some kind of fancy water. People are always paying lots of money for fancy water from mountain glaciers or some kind of special pond even though they could use the stuff from the tap for free. I guess it takes all kinds.”

It did indeed.

I gave Marshall the name of the lead detective on LuAnn’s case and suggested he enter the building from the lobby instead of back here. Unless, of course, he wanted to have an epileptic seizure from looking at all the sequins and rhinestones that would be glistening in the halls. Marshall gave Killer one last piece of beef jerky before walking to his car. I watched him drive off and then went back inside the theater.

Hitting the button to the loading dock, I watched the door come down and thought about the boxes that had been stashed here earlier this week—presumably by LuAnn. The same person who discovered the loading dock door on this side of the stage wasn’t working. Coincidence? I doubted it, especially after knowing she was the mastermind behind the costume destruction. She was the one who’d discovered the ruined clothing. Her outrage and very loud accusations automatically shifted focus away from anyone considering the possibility she might be involved.

Smart. Something told me she had been equally smart when it came to sabotaging the loading dock. Christine said LuAnn volunteered to check the doors to make sure they were in working order. Suddenly, one door wasn’t working. Yeah, I wasn’t buying the coincidence.

But why prevent this door from opening? What good would it serve? Yes, it inconvenienced those of us with staging rooms on this side of the building, but we were still able to get our costumes and instruments loaded into the theater through one of the other doors. Did she hope the frustration of the extra work would distract some of the teams enough that mistakes would be made? That seemed far-fetched.

So what was special about this place?

I studied the large loading dock area again. Cement floor. Metal door. Lots of empty space between here and the large retractable door that led to the stage. When touring companies arrived, they used that enormous door to bring in their set pieces. Those doors weren’t opened for our groups. Instead, we used the normal-sized door that led to the staging room hallway. There was no reason for anyone to come into this area unless to load or unload something into the staging rooms or the theater. With the door not working, people automatically went to the other loading dock. Especially since there had been signs posted all over the place to serve as reminders that this door was out of order.

If I wanted to store something in this building that wouldn’t be in anyone’s way, the off-limits loading dock would be the place to do it. So, what had LuAnn wanted kept out of sight? The boxes were marked with CMHS stickers, but the Showstoppers team had a room to store their belongings. And I couldn’t imagine LuAnn or anyone on the team would want to leave some of their things where other teams could potentially damage them. And face it: If Marshall was right and the jars were filled with fancy water, the singers would want to keep those nearby. What good was having several cases of special water in tow if it wasn’t close enough for use?

My gut told me water wasn’t the clear liquid inside those jars. Otherwise LuAnn wouldn’t have hidden them back here or disabled the loading dock until she arranged for someone to pick the boxes up.

But I was still no closer to understanding why.

Unless LuAnn’s ghost was haunting this area and decided to give me guidance, I wasn’t going to learn anything standing here. Besides, the show would start in half an hour. The police would just have to find the answer to that question on their own. I had a choir to coach and a competition to win.

The team had never looked better. The girls’ silver, blue, and white dresses accented with rhinestones looked fabulous. The boys in their black pants, silver and blue cummerbunds, vests, and bow ties looked dashing. Thanks to Aunt Millie’s practiced hand, the makeup and hairstyles looked as if they’d come right off the glossy pages of a fashion magazine. Even the band members with their new accessories looked as if they belonged stepping onto a Broadway stage. Well, this stage wasn’t as well-known as the ones lining Times Square, but in terms of importance to these kids, it couldn’t be any bigger.

Larry held up his hand to quiet the team. The clock on the wall above him said the first team would take the stage in less than five minutes. Once they were done, we’d have ten minutes to set the risers, get the band in place, and put the pieces needed for the planned costume changes in the wings. Then it would be our turn to impress.

“I just want to tell you how proud I am to be standing here with you today.” Larry beamed. “No matter what the scores say, I think you’re all winners.”

The clichéd speech made a couple of the boys roll their eyes. But while the words might be unoriginal, the joy on Larry’s face was undeniable. He had wanted this moment for these kids badly enough that he’d swallowed his pride, admitted his skills weren’t strong enough to help this team win, and gone out in search of someone who could. He went looking for a teacher who wouldn’t accept less than the best. It was still hard to believe that he had hired me. This was a job I’d never wanted and had thought I was ill-suited for. Yet, here I was, taking my turn standing in front of this team who had worked so hard and come so far.

Would this group impress the judges enough to make it to the final round? It was time to find out.

“Don’t forget: I want you to have good diction, lots of emotion, and, most important, you need to have fun. If you’re having fun . . .” I let my voice trail off and smiled as the kids said in unison, “The judges will have fun, too.”

A year ago, I would have laughed if someone had said I would be standing here enjoying this moment. Just goes to show how far I had come.

“Okay,” I said, lifting my eyes to the clock. “Then let’s put on a show they’ll never forget.”

Claire stumbled on a turn. Eric almost missed a step walking down the riser and had to check his balance. And the costume change into the third number left Jeffrey without a bow tie. Minor mistakes. All things that had happened in past competitions. We’d taken first in every one of them. But this was the best of the best. I could only hope that the strong singing, complicated lifts, and high-energy dancing eclipsed the missteps enough to see us through to the next round.

When the kids had changed out of their costumes and had hung them back on the racks, they headed for the theater to watch the rest of the teams perform. I was about to go, too, when Devlyn touched my arm.

“They did good.”

I nodded. “It wasn’t perfect.”

“The judges won’t notice. Remember, the closer you are to something, the easier it can be to see the flaws.” His expression turned serious. “What time’s your flight?”

The reminder of my own upcoming performance made my stomach roil. “Five thirty. The scores should be posted before I leave for the airport.”

“If not, I’ll make sure you learn the results.” He looked as if he wanted to say something more but shook his head.

The silence stretched for several uncomfortable seconds. Finally, I broke it. “I guess we should go see what our competition is doing.”

“Yeah. We should do that.”

The lobby was devoid of all but a few stragglers getting tickets at Will Call. As I pulled open the door to the theater, Devlyn put his hand on my shoulder before I could head inside.

“Paige, in case I don’t get another chance to tell you—good luck tomorrow.” He gave me a sad smile. “I hope you get everything you want. You deserve it.”

He went to take his seat. I did the same, understanding the words for what they were. Not just a wish of luck, but a way of saying good-bye. As I slid into one of the spots in the back, I realized I wasn’t upset. Breaking up with Devlyn was sad, but my heart wasn’t broken, which said louder than words what I should have known all along. The two of us didn’t belong together. We needed to move on.

The competition flew by as the teams danced, twirled, and sparkled onstage. Central Memphis High School made the most noticeable mistakes. Missed steps and tentative singing were in evidence. But the minute they were done, everyone in the audience got to their feet. The team’s performance was flawed, but they went onstage after being dealt a huge blow. They had earned everyone’s admiration.

Before I knew it, all twelve teams had performed and the lunch break had begun. After lunch, the women’s division would take the stage. Sometime between lunch and the end of the day the list of teams who made the mixed-division finals would be posted. If the judges spotted the flaws in the other routines that I did, Music in Motion would be back on this stage tomorrow. Unfortunately, when it came to judging, there was no guarantee. All we could do was wait.

The kids were in high spirits when we reassembled in our staging room and then tromped around the corner to get lunch. They professed to be famished. Clearly, they dealt with nerves better than I did because the thought of food made my stomach heave. Still, I ordered a soda and fries so I could enjoy the moment with them. Regardless of whether or not I came back to coach Music in Motion next year, this would be one of my last opportunities to work with this group of kids. Graduation was just weeks away. Soon they’d be off to college—off to live their dreams. I hoped Chessie was right and they would understand my need to live mine.

Once lunch was over, the attitude was a little more subdued as we went back to the theater in search of the list of finalists. Drat. It hadn’t been posted yet. Everyone started to head out the door to the theater, but stopped when I said, “Could you guys wait a minute?”

All eyes turned toward me.

I took a deep breath. “Earlier this week, I received a phone call offering me an audition at the Lyric Opera. The timing isn’t convenient, but this was an audition I couldn’t turn down. I’ll be catching a plane back to Chicago tonight. I hope to still be here when the list is posted. If not, Mr. DeWeese and Mr. O’Shea will let me know the minute the results are announced. If everything goes as planned, I’ll sing my audition tomorrow morning and be back here in time for you to take the stage tomorrow night.”

The team started talking all at once. A few yelled reminders for me to have fun while auditioning. A couple others reminded me to watch my diction. Not a single member of Music in Motion looked angry or betrayed by my defection. Score one for Chessie.

Laughing, I told them that I wouldn’t forget their advice and shooed them off to the theater to watch the next round of the preliminaries. Larry gave me an awkward fist bump before following the kids. The minute I was alone, I shoved my hands in my pockets and let out a relieved sigh. My fingers brushed against the sticker from the loading dock, and I looked up at the clock. I had two hours until I had to go to the airport. Time enough to see whether the police had learned anything new about LuAnn’s death or the mysterious boxes from the loading dock. If nothing else, it would give me something to focus on besides worrying about the judges’ scores.

I dodged a couple of boys still wearing their tux shirts and sparkly bow ties and headed to the lobby in search of the Nashville boys in blue. Or girls in blue, as the case may be. Unfortunately, I don’t think Officer Durbin was any happier to see me than I was to see her. However, since she was the only law enforcement official in sight, I decided to give talking to her a whirl.

“Officer Durbin,” I said with a big smile. She didn’t smile back. Great. “I didn’t expect to see you again. Are you helping conduct the interviews? The head of the competition told me the police would be talking to everyone who dealt with LuAnn on the day she died.”

“The Nashville Police Department is giving this matter the utmost attention. Did you have something you felt you needed to add to your statement? If so, I’d be happy to take a report.”

If that was her version of happy, I’d hate to think what sad looked like. Pretending not to notice her lack of enthusiasm, I said, “LuAnn Freeman called a mechanic to fix the loading dock doors. I ran into him earlier and thought there was a chance he saw something important. I’m hoping he took my advice about speaking to one of the detectives and came this way.”

“He was here. I’m sure the detective fully appreciates his cooperation as well as yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“I know you’re really busy, but I was hoping you might be able to tell me if they’ve gotten any closer to finding the driver that hit LuAnn? I’m going to be going out of town in a couple of hours, but my team is still going to be here.” I gave Officer Durbin my best vulnerable and worried look. “I’d feel a lot less nervous about leaving them behind if I thought this matter was settled.”

Officer Durbin studied me and then smiled. I felt a surge of triumph as she said, “I can understand how you’d be worried about your students. But my job is to help close cases, not ease your mind. If you don’t mind, I’ll get back to it.” With that, Officer Durbin stalked off, leaving me standing alone.

Well, crap. If this had happened back home, I could have asked Mike to poke around and see what he could learn. As it stood now, I would just have to wait like everyone else and hope to hear news of an arrest soon.

“There you are.”

I turned to see Aunt Millie barreling toward me. “Is the list up?” I asked as my heart plummeted to my feet.

“No.” Millie looked over her shoulder at the easel standing outside the theater doors where the finalists would be posted. “I swear, trained monkeys could add up scores faster than these people. Eight scores. Twelve teams. The highest six scores move on. How hard could that possibly be?”

Since almost every competition took hours to do what most first graders with a calculator could handle in less than ten minutes, I had to guess there was more involved than we thought. Either that or the people in charge of posting the scores got their kicks knowing everyone was waiting for them.

“If the list isn’t up, why were you looking for me? Did another team try to enlist you for their hair and makeup?” That had happened at two of the regional competitions. Both times, Millie happily sketched makeup designs that complemented the team’s costumes and included a list of the Mary Kay products that would be necessary to make the look a reality. No moss growing under Millie’s feet.

“Not yet,” my aunt said. “But whoever was in charge of the makeup for the Minnesota team should. The lipstick color was all wrong. Under no circumstances does a self-respecting designer pair magenta and orange together.”

She sniffed.

I smiled. “Then why were you looking for me?”

“Oh, I wanted to let you know that Aldo will be waiting in the car outside the theater at three thirty to take you to the airport. I’d drive you myself, but I thought you’d rather have me and Killer stay here and look after things for you.”

“I’m happy to drive with Aldo.” Delighted, actually. Millie’s driving always left me worried about whether I’d arrive at my destination in one piece. The only trouble Aldo ever had with a car involved a bomb. The chances of that happening again were slim to none. The odds of Millie getting ticketed for a moving violation were ones every gambler in Vegas would bet on. “We’ll just have to make a stop at the hotel so I can get my bag before we go.”

“Why don’t you give me the key so Aldo can do that for you? That way you have more time to spend looking into that poor lady’s death. From what I’ve heard, the investigators aren’t any closer to coming up with a suspect than they were yesterday.”

“Who told you that?”

“The director of Central Memphis High School.” Millie pointed across the lobby to where Nikki was talking on her cell phone. From the angry look on her face, I was guessing the call wasn’t going well.

“Why were you talking to Nikki?” I asked. If the woman didn’t want LuAnn helping out with her team, I seriously doubted she would take cosmetics advice from my aunt.