A Chorus Lineup (A Glee Club Mystery) (9 page)

“I think that a lot of unusual things happened today and it would be a pretty big coincidence if LuAnn was involved in all of them.” I was, too, which was something I was having a hard time ignoring.

“Well, it’s good the police are investigating,” Devlyn said, sliding his arm around my shoulder.

“That’s the thing,” I said as Devlyn placed a kiss on my neck. “The officer I talked to wasn’t interested in hearing anything that suggested LuAnn’s death wasn’t an accident. I mean, I know that my getting a phone call from an unknown number telling me to meet them at the theater or else could have been a high school prank, but—”

“You got a what?”

Oops. I’d missed that part. “I got the call when I was talking to Megan. Then Millie came to talk to me and I forgot about it until we were driving near the theater. We decided to drive by just in case the call wasn’t a joke.”

Devlyn pulled his arm back and stood. “You and your aunt thought it was a good idea to meet someone who threatened you at an empty theater after dark?”

When you put it that way . . .

“We didn’t plan on getting out of the car.”

“You didn’t plan on finding a dead woman, either.” Devlyn raked a hand through his hair and paced the rug. “Look, I know that you have a hard time staying on the sidelines when something unusual happens, but we aren’t in Prospect Glen and Mike isn’t here to bail you out if you tick off the cops.”

“I don’t need Mike to bail me out.”

“I hope not, because the team and I need you to stay focused on what we’re here for.”

The implication that I wasn’t focused stung. While this wasn’t the job I’d dreamed of my entire life, the past few months had taught me two things. One, I liked it more than I expected. And two, I was damn good at it.

“The team doesn’t have to worry and neither do you. Now, if I’m going to teach a master class and keep the team on track tomorrow, I guess I should get some sleep.” I brushed past Devlyn and opened the door.

Devlyn stood there for a moment. Then he sighed. “Look.” He glanced down the hall before brushing my cheek with his hand. “At least promise me you’ll talk to me before you do anything crazy.”

When I didn’t say anything, he brushed his lips against my forehead and waited as if giving me one last chance to let him stay. Part of me was tempted to close the door and let him help me forget LuAnn’s sightless eyes and the nagging sense of guilt I felt over her death. I had a feeling Devlyn would be very good at making a girl forget. But if our relationship had any hope of a future, we couldn’t take that kind of step now. Not under these circumstances. I had to stand on my own two feet tonight. It was time for Devlyn to go.

“Don’t forget to leave my key,” I said.

Devlyn put his hand in his pocket, pulled out the blue card key, and placed it in my outstretched hand. With one last kiss on the cheek, he whispered, “I’m just down the hall if you need me.” Then out the door he went, leaving me alone with two thoughts.

First, I really hoped LuAnn’s death was an accident. Second, seeing her stomping around in her boots one minute and dead the next reaffirmed one thing: You had to take opportunities when they came or there might never be a chance for them to come again. Tomorrow, I’d tell Devlyn and Larry that I had been offered an audition at the Lyric. More important, no matter what happened with the competition, I was going to take it.

Of course, to have that discussion, I needed not only to get them alone but to get a word into the conversation. Larry had gotten a wake-up call from Christine McCann this morning informing him of LuAnn’s accident. She assured him that LuAnn’s death would not affect the competition schedule from moving forward. From the way Larry’s hair stood on end, the two distinctly different colors of his socks, and the stutter in his voice, it was clear that Larry hadn’t been sufficiently reassured.

“Devlyn said you told him y-y-you found LuAnn. Are you okay? You l-l-look tired. Maybe you should cancel the master class,” Larry said, stabbing some of the hotel’s buffet breakfast pancakes with his fork. “After everything that h-h-happened yesterday with LuAnn, you should keep a low prof-f-file.”

“Why don’t I check with Scott and see what he says about the master class?” So far, Larry and I were the only members of our group in the hotel’s breakfast area. The rest would be joining us soon. If I was going to tell him about Friday, now was the time. Taking a deep breath, I said, “But you might be right about keeping a low profile. You know, my manager called and there’s an audition—”

“I still can’t believe LuAnn Freeman is dead.” Larry waved his fork, sending bits of food flying. “Did you know that she single-handedly kept this competition going the last couple of years?”

I blinked. “I thought Christine McCann was in charge of this competition.” The bio I’d read said she’d taken the helm five years ago.

“She is.” Larry poured more syrup on his pancakes. “But the competition was in a huge financial hole. There were lots of rumors that the whole thing was going to fold. A bunch of longtime coaches made noises about pitching in with fund-raisers, but nothing came of those. So LuAnn went out and found sponsors who were willing to keep the competition financially afloat.”

Wow. “I didn’t realize you knew her.”

Larry shook his head. “Just by reputation. People said she was a force to be reckoned with.”

After watching her in action yesterday, I could see why.

While Larry was sipping his coffee, I picked up a piece of bacon and steered the conversation back to my audition. “Larry, you know I love working with this team, but—”

The rumble of a low growl made the hair on my neck stand on end. The growling grew louder and the click-click-click of nails on the polished gray tile told me the source was coming near.

Slowly, I turned and came nose to nose with the fluffy white bane of my existence—Aunt Millie’s award-winning standard poodle Monsieur de Tueur de Dame. Translated into English: Mr. Lady Killer. Millie intended the name to be cute. I thought it was prophetic because the dog lived up to the shortened, more commonly used version of his name—Killer.

Killer bared his teeth and growled again, sending a waft of dog breath in my direction. Ick. Killer hadn’t brushed. The dog moved his snarling snout closer, nipped the bacon out of my hand, and devoured it before I had a chance to complain.

“I love that the two of you are such good friends.” My aunt appeared behind Killer and patted the dog on his fuzzy head. Killer looked up at Millie with adoration and let out a burp. Killer now had bacon breath.

“Did you sleep okay, Aunt Millie?” Every time I’d closed my eyes, I’d seen LuAnn’s face. That image hadn’t made for a good night’s sleep. My eyes felt grainy and had required more than a little cosmetic assistance to make me look as if I hadn’t been on an all-night bender. Millie, however, looked as if she’d spent time in a spa. Her rosy cheeks matched the color of her pants and lightweight spring sweater.

“I slept like a baby.” My aunt’s eyes sparkled with happiness, and the smile that spread across her face as Aldo appeared next to her spoke loud and clear as to the reason why. I’d gone to bed alone last night, but Millie had not. While I was happy for her, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy. Despite her protests to the contrary, Millie had found someone to love who loved her back. I wanted that. More than I had realized.

“I’m glad to hear you’re okay,” Larry said. “When P-P-Paige told me you were with her last night . . . Well, I know how I felt after I walked into the theater at the beginning of the school year and saw Greg Lucas dead. I didn’t s-s-sleep well for weeks.”

Being a murder suspect and getting kidnapped probably had more to do with that, but what did I know.

The sound of giggles and shouts to “wait up” announced the first arrivals of our team. Leaning close, Larry whispered, “When do you want to t-t-tell them?” Whispering was a good plan. Too bad when Larry stuttered, he tended to project his voice more than intended.

“Tell us what?”

Crap.

Chessie walked up to Killer and scratched his head. I started to tell Chessie to be careful and got into position to shove her out of the way if and when Killer snarled or snapped. But the dog just plopped his pompon butt on the floor and nuzzled his head under Chessie’s hand for more attention. I wasn’t sure whom I considered the biggest traitor.

“We want to talk about the things that happened yesterday,” I said before Larry could answer. For a guy who had worked with teens for twenty years, he was bad at subterfuge.

“Oh.” Chessie stopped petting Killer’s head. “Well, I guess I should get some fruit before everyone else arrives.”

“Fresh fruit sounds like a wonderful idea,” Millie said. “Paige, would you take Killer’s leash? I don’t want to take him too close to the buffet. You know how excited he gets when there’s bacon around.”

Before I could object, Millie shoved a pink, rhinestone-encrusted strap into my hand and followed Chessie to the breakfast display. With a lusty sigh, Aldo followed, leaving Killer and me to fend for ourselves. Killer walked to the table, sniffed my baconless plate, and bared his teeth. Yep, this was bad.

Thank goodness Larry either thought my stories about Killer’s personality disorder were exaggerated or was too distracted by LuAnn’s death to care about missing digits as he held out a link of sausage. In Killer’s world, pork took precedence over torturing me. Hurray.

By the time Larry ran out of sausage links, Millie had returned to retrieve Killer so he could snack off of her plate. Millie and Aldo scored a table across the room, which meant I didn’t have to worry about canine intimidation tactics as I considered how best to break the news of LuAnn’s death to the team.

My heart skipped when Devlyn walked into the room. For a minute, he just stood in the doorway. His head turned in my direction and his eyes met mine for a moment before he sauntered over to the buffet. I waited for him to join Larry and me at our table. Instead, he took a seat with Jim and some of the band kids.

Hurt bloomed in my chest. Yes, I’d asked him to leave last night, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him to be concerned about me today. A contradiction? Perhaps, but I’d tried and failed to keep a woman from dying last night. A little latitude might be in order.

Ignoring Larry’s curious look and the queasy turning of my stomach, I smiled and tried to be cheerful as I greeted the rest of the kids who staggered into the breakfast area.

Chessie was seated at a table for two. When her boyfriend walked in, I waited for her to wave Eric over to join her. Instead, she feigned intense interest in her yogurt cup as he piled eggs, pancakes, and bacon onto his plate and sat on the other side of the room.

Uh-oh. This wasn’t good.

I thought it was an even worse sign that, while Chessie pretended nothing was wrong, Eric didn’t bother to hide his concern as he watched her while shoveling in food. Meanwhile, the rest of their friends looked baffled to see the two sitting apart. In my experience, teenage couples didn’t just break up. They imploded. Breakup drama typically involved Facebook posts, text messages, and phone calls to their closest friends. The fact that no one seemed to understand what was happening told me Chessie and Eric had either managed to avoid the drama (which, considering Chessie’s nature, seemed highly unlikely) or they hadn’t broken up.

My speculation on which scenario had occurred was cut short when Breanna slid into the seat across from Chessie. The room grew strangely quiet as the petite strawberry blonde asked, “Is everything . . . you know . . .” She looked across the room to where Eric was sitting, then back at Chessie. “Okay?”

“What?” Chessie’s eyes widened for a moment. Then she laughed. “Oh, it’s fine. I asked to be left alone this morning so I could save my voice.” As if to prove the point, she smiled at Eric and gave him a wiggly finger wave.

Eric looked startled. After a moment, he waved back.

Taking that as a sign that everything was normal, the group went back to their chatter. But the nervous glances Eric gave Chessie made me pretty sure more was going on here than met the eye. And when I thought back on the strange way Chessie had behaved after the discovery of the damaged costume, I couldn’t help but be worried at the reason why.

Larry nudged me and raised an eyebrow. I did a quick count of the students scattered throughout the room. Everyone was here. If we were going to break the news about LuAnn, this was as good a time as any to do it.

Standing, I brushed some wayward crumbs off my gray slacks and said, “I’d like to have your attention for a few minutes. The theater was inspected after yesterday’s accident. According to the head of the competition, the theater has been cleared. Classes and rehearsals will go forward as scheduled. So, please make sure that you’re ready to go when it’s our time to take the stage. We only have today’s rehearsal to make sure we are ready for the preliminary competition. After what happened yesterday, I’ve also decided to keep our costumes and instruments here at the hotel until tomorrow. If there are any costuming problems, we’ll deal with it then.”

A couple of the boys threw bits of bacon toward Killer. The dog barked his gratitude and sucked them off the floor as fast as they fell. If I didn’t hurry things up, I was going to be seriously upstaged by a dog.

“Also,” I said a little louder, “last night, there was an accident outside the theater. One of the parents with the team from Memphis was hit by a car. She didn’t survive.” Bacon stopped flying. The teens’ expressions turned from amused to dismayed. Killer whined and played the starved, pathetic card, but he’d lost his audience. Even Millie ignored his pleas for more as I continued. “There are going to be a lot of kids who knew or worked with LuAnn Freeman. I ask that you all be extra sensitive as you attend master class and share the theater today.”

Larry stood. “The buses will be ready in ten minutes. So eat fast.”

No one seemed to be interested in finishing breakfast. Killer was able to beg several more pieces of bacon and sausage from the kids before it was time to leave. It was a good thing Killer didn’t travel with this team often or he’d gain too much weight to compete at the dog shows he and Millie both loved. Although, judging from his happy dog yips, I doubted Killer would agree.

I walked back to my room to get my purse and my audition book, just in case I found time to squeeze some practice in for myself. With the Lyric Opera appointment forty-eight hours away, I needed to pick audition songs and give them a little polishing. No matter how many times I’d sung a piece, there was always something to be tweaked or acting choices to rethink.

After shoving my purse in my blue duffel bag, I swung the strap over my shoulder and checked the time. The bus would be leaving in four minutes.

I double-checked to make sure the door was latched, then turned and almost bumped into Devlyn.

“Hey.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “I wanted to apologize. You had a rough night. I was surprised and overreacted. Which is pretty pathetic when you think about it. I mean, I should be able to deal with situations with more maturity than the students I teach. Don’t you think?”

The apology combined with Devlyn’s humor about his own shortcomings made me smile. “Maturity?” I teased. “I didn’t know that your gender understood the definition of that word.”

“Oh, we understand it.” He smiled back. “We just have trouble putting it into practice. Especially when we had a plan about how the night would go and it doesn’t turn out the way we’d hoped.” He looked to make sure the coast was clear and then reached for my hand. “I really am sorry. Did you get any sleep? You look tired.”