A Chorus Lineup (A Glee Club Mystery) (4 page)

Devlyn gave my hand a pat as a waitress led us to a small, butcher paper–covered table in the back. Once we were seated, Devlyn assured me that no one who knew me would ever think I’d have anything to do with the destruction. “Screwing people to get ahead is tried and true, but totally not your style.”

“What is my style?” I asked, feeling the warmth of Devlyn’s smile melt the icy knot in my stomach.

“You work hard. You fight for what you believe in, and as much as you want to succeed you’d never take the easy way out. Cutting up other people’s costumes is the cheap way to achieve a goal. You wouldn’t consider that kind of win a victory.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” His hand found mind under the table and gave it a squeeze. “You try to do what’s right even when it lands you in danger. It’s a trait that scares me to death. Which is why I wanted to talk to you alone. That woman’s accusations aren’t making you consider doing something crazy, are they?”

“Like what?”

Devlyn raised an eyebrow. “Like trying to track down the person responsible for this morning’s incidents.”

I blinked. “Why would I do that?”

Devlyn laughed. “Because you can’t seem to help yourself. But I guess I don’t have to worry about that this time, which is good. I don’t know if I could handle it if you ended up in danger again.” All traces of laughter faded as Devlyn’s eyes met mine. The intensity of emotion in them made my breath catch and my heart beat faster. “Between musical rehearsals and competitions and grading papers, we haven’t had a lot of time to spend on us.”

“Life’s been pretty busy,” I agreed as the waitress brought us a basket of warm bread and took our drink orders. Iced tea for Devlyn. Water with lime for me. If I was going to audition for the Lyric Opera, I needed to keep my throat hydrated.

Just thinking about the plane ticket confirmation sitting in my inbox made the guilt I’d almost squelched bubble anew. But maybe Devlyn was right. Maybe I did take the hard path too often. I bet if I told him about the audition, he’d inform me that the kids would hardly notice that I was gone and that I would be insane not to take this opportunity. Devlyn wanted the best for me. And wasn’t that following my dreams?

By the time the waitress returned with our drinks and took our order, I had decided to tell Devlyn everything. Only he started talking first.

“School’s kept me busy, but that’s not the main reason we haven’t spent as much time together as I’ve wanted.” Devlyn frowned. “I figured it was best to wait until the end of the school year before we really explored a relationship. That way if we decide it isn’t working, we don’t have to worry about anyone else finding out. No reason to complicate things at work if we don’t have to.”

The bread I’d just swallowed felt like lead as it traveled to my stomach. “You’re worried about people at work finding out?”

Devlyn shook his head. “Not really. Although, I’d rather not have to deal with that until we absolutely have to, and I thought summer would give us more time to just focus on us. Especially after everything that’s happened over the last couple months. Some alone time away from the kids and the craziness will give us time to talk about the things we really want out of life.” Devlyn’s fingers tightened on mine. “Once the musical is over, I’d like us both to start putting some more effort into this relationship. The way things are going, I think we have a real chance at building a future, both at the school and in our personal lives—together. What do you think?”

What did I think?

The waitress arrived with our plates, which was good because I was having trouble formulating a coherent thought. Hearing Devlyn talk about building a future with me made my breath catch and my heart skip several beats. He was talented and sexy, and the two of us shared so many of the same interests. But the way he put school in the middle of that future put a damper on any excitement I might feel. I wanted a performance career. Teaching, as much as I’d come to enjoy it, was just something I was doing until that happened.

I still wasn’t any closer to a response after Devlyn assured the waitress that our food looked wonderful and we didn’t need anything else. What I needed was something our server couldn’t provide. I seriously doubted Parmesan cheese was going to help me understand the turn this conversation had taken.

“So?” Devlyn asked, picking up his meatball sandwich.

I picked up my fork and stabbed a ravioli.

“You’re really not worried about your job?” I asked. Okay, that was probably the last thing I should have said, but it was a place to start. Besides, the whole handholding thing just ten minutes ago called that statement into question.

As if to prove his point, Devlyn put his hand on the table and held it out to me to take. The fact that he didn’t look around the restaurant to double-check whether anyone we knew was nearby melted my heart.

With a smile, I wound my fingers through his. “I’d say spending more time together would be a good thing. Although, I’m not sure if I’ll be at Prospect Glen after this year, so . . .”

“After what you’ve done with Music in Motion this year, your job is more secure than mine. And I have tenure.” He popped a French fry in his mouth and offered me one.

Shaking my head, I chased a piece of pepper around on my plate and said, “I never thought I’d enjoy teaching. Especially after the way Chessie and the rest of the team acted when I first started this job.”

“Which is why the work you’ve done this year is so remarkable. The students respect you. Not only that, they look up to you. Especially Chessie. I’m pretty sure she’s going to Northwestern because that’s where you went to school. The school wasn’t even on her list before this fall. You’re changing lives. That’s important.”

“More important than performing?”

“It’s different and a lot more secure.” Devlyn grinned. “And it’s not like you can’t do both. There are lots of theaters around Chicago. I’m sure they’ll be willing to work around your teaching schedule. Speaking of both, we should get back to the theater. I’d like to take another look at the stage. The band might seem cramped if we position them on the right like we’d originally discussed.”

Just like that, the conversation shifted. Devlyn pulled his hand away to eat his meal while discussing spacing issues. No more romance. No more thoughts about the future and his assumption that I intended to stay at Prospect Glen and teach with him.

It wasn’t until the waitress cleared away our plates—Devlyn’s empty, mine still full—that Devlyn asked, “So if you weren’t worrying about how to find the culprit behind the destroyed costumes, what’s been bothering you?”

Feeling a bit like a coward, I decided to shelve talking to Devlyn about the audition. Instead, I said, “I think Chessie might know something about this morning’s incidents.”

Devlyn handed the waitress the bill and stood. “Chessie wants to win more than anyone else on the team, but I can’t imagine her sneaking into the staging rooms and taking a knife to costumes.”

“She’s pulled all sorts of stunts in the past.” Cooperating with a killer topped the list. Of course, at the time Chessie wasn’t aware the person she was working with was a murderer. She was just interested in screwing with me. But still.

“Yeah.” Devlyn put his hand on my back and guided me back into the sunshine. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Chessie in the lobby, attending the dance master class. I don’t think she would have had time to hit all the teams and still attend part of her class. And while I think Chessie might go after the team she thought was her biggest competition, she would never have gone after all of them. Her ego would never let her believe that all the teams could give Music in Motion a run for their money.”

He was right. Chessie believed our team was the best. While she wanted to take first place, she wanted to prove she was the best even more.

On the way back to the theater, Larry sent a text telling us that lunch was running late. We had a half hour until the team would be back at the theater, ready to work. Since the first of the team rehearsals was currently happening in the theater, we took the opportunity to sit in the back of the house and talk about the changes we’d need to make with our group.

While the choreography and music to our pieces weren’t going to change, every new stage required us to adjust the spacing of the singers and the placement of the band. This was the biggest stage Music in Motion had been asked to perform on. While more space was better than less, it meant different adjustments to ensure the picture presented to the audience was balanced. In most of our competitions, the stage wasn’t big enough for the band, which meant they set up in front of the stage. That placement put the conductor in an ideal position to not only direct the band but to cue the singers. This stage, however, was large enough to accommodate both the choir and the instrumentalists. The judges would take into account the overall production value of the team’s performance. That included our nine-piece band’s playing and appearance.

Scott’s team was on the stage. Other directors and their teams were scattered around the audience, observing their work. Three sets of risers were set in a straight line on center stage. On either side were chairs that indicated the placement of their band. The positioning would keep the stage balanced, but the conductor was going to have to stand near the front of the stage or maybe on the floor in front of it in order to be seen by all the performers.

“What do you think of putting the band on stage left?” Devlyn pointed toward the area next to where the risers were currently set. “We could adjust some of the blocking to create a nice balance.”

Maybe. But, again, the conductor wouldn’t be in a great position to see the singers. In a perfect performing environment, the conductor and performers could see one another at all times. Since young singers weren’t the greatest at taking direction from the conductor, it was essential the conductor could see my team even if they couldn’t see him.

“I think we should put the band in the center,” I whispered. “Jim can be in the center, and the band’s chairs can be set at an angle so the audience sees their profiles.”

Devlyn nodded. “If we adjust the opening positions during the last song, I think we could make that work. And what do you think of shifting the lifts in the middle of “Ease on Down the Road” to either side, just off center.”

I smiled. “We could also have the horns stand during their hits.” It would make the band look like part of the performance instead of just the accompaniment for the singers.

“We need to get them something shinier to wear,” Devlyn whispered as music played and Scott’s team started to dance.

I thought about our band’s black pants, black shirt, and white tie attire and nodded as the kids performed a stomping sequence. Devlyn was right. If the band was going to be front and center, they needed a bit more pizzazz. “Aunt Millie and Aldo should be in town soon. If you’re willing to play chaperone with Larry and Jim tonight, Millie and I can do some power shopping.”

“What you really mean is will I play referee between Larry and Jim,” Devlyn said as the team onstage executed a simple but flashy lift with ease.

Scott’s team was good. Better than good. They were serious competition.

“Jim and Larry have been getting along better these days,” I said, leaning my elbows on the seat in front of me as I watched the team hit their final pose. The group wasn’t singing full out, so I couldn’t tell how powerful their vocals were going to be, but their tone and harmonies sounded strong and tight.

Ignoring the rehearsal onstage, Devlyn said, “That’s because you’ve been around to keep them from going at each other’s throats. Jim likes you.”

“Jim also likes pizza and baseball,” I said. “Order a large pepperoni for him and make sure ESPN is on the TV. I promise Millie and I won’t take very long.”

“I hope not.” Devlyn’s answering smile was slow and sexy. “I thought if we had time, we could meet in your room once the team is in bed to talk about our other project.”

Devlyn. Me. My room. Just thinking about the combination was enough to make my pulse jump. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Good.” Devlyn winked. “It’s a date.”

Scott’s team finished and left the stage and a new team appeared, along with the last person I wanted to see again—the now-familiar, finger-pointing LuAnn. On stage moving risers, LuAnn looked even more imposing than she did when accusing me of shredding satin. She stood taller and wider than almost all ten boys on this team. From the way they jumped when she snapped her fingers, they were more than a little intimidated by her personality. I had to give her credit, though. She didn’t just stand by and wait for the kids to do the heavy lifting. LuAnn sat her purse down on the edge of the stage, rolled up her pink sleeves, and got to work. By the time they were done, the exertion had turned LuAnn’s round cheeks the same shiny color as her shirt. The flush grew deeper when she put a hand over her eyes to look for something in the audience and found me.

“Get that woman out of here,” she yelled.

All eyes turned toward the stage and then toward me.

Yikes. Heat flooded my cheeks. My muscles tensed, and I forced myself to stay in my seat instead of bolting toward the door. This was the second time LuAnn had singled me out, and I had no idea why. I was hurt, angry, and totally baffled.

“LuAnn,” a pixie-like woman in dance clothes said, crossing the stage. “Rehearsals are open to other teams and their coaching staff. It’s one of the rules all teams agree to when accepting a place at the competition. Now,” the dark-haired woman said, taking LuAnn’s arm, “if you don’t mind, we need to get started.”

Apparently, LuAnn did mind because she pulled her arm away and yelled, “Someone find Christine McCann. My daughter isn’t stepping foot on this stage until that woman leaves this theater. I don’t want to give her any other opportunities to sabotage this competition for our team.”

“Christine warned you about making unfounded accusations.” The dark-haired coach’s voice rang with authority. “Now, if we don’t want to lose our only rehearsal time onstage today, we have to get started.”

LuAnn plopped her hands on her hips and glared in my direction. The dark-haired coach yelled, “Places. Cue music.” But no one moved. The kids onstage watched LuAnn. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the audience watching me. Like a game of chicken, the observers were waiting to see who got out of the way first. The only problem was I was pretty sure no matter which way I jumped, I was going to get flattened. If I left, the kids could rehearse. LuAnn would feel victorious, and everyone would think that I had something to hide. Holding my ground would prove that I wouldn’t be chased away, but it would fuel the strange grudge LuAnn had developed against me. Yep—both choices sucked. I was screwed.

My stomach clenched. LuAnn’s face turned a shade of red that now matched her boots.

“Hey, maybe we should just get out of here,” Devlyn said as the sound of “You Can’t Stop the Beat”
from
Hairspray
blared from the speakers. The dark-haired director yelled again. The kids onstage took the hint and hurried to their starting positions. LuAnn looked behind her at the kids, then back at me. Finally, in a huff, she stalked into the wings and the kids began to dance.

I let out the breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding. “I don’t get it,” I said as one of the girls with a powerful voice nailed her solo. “Why does one of the other teams’ coaches have it out for me?”

“I don’t think she’s technically part of the coaching staff.” Devlyn motioned for me to follow him. Which I did. Gladly.