Death in a Major (11 page)

 

Chapter Eleven

I
SKIPPED BREAKFAST.
There was no way I could stomach any food after what I'd done to Aaron. So instead I walked. My last glimpse of Aaron's eyes haunted me and I couldn't shake the heavy dark cloud of sadness that hovered over me. I walked and walked without paying too much attention to where I was going. When I finally took in my surroundings I realized I'd automatically headed in the direction of JT's place.

By then I was already in his neighborhood, only a few blocks away from his house. My first student of the day wouldn't arrive for more than three hours so I sent JT a quick text message, letting him know that I was going to show up early. He never minded when I did that, but I always liked to let him know as a courtesy.

I'm at the park with Finnegan
, he wrote back a few minutes later.
But I'll see you soon.

I made a quick stop at a bakery to buy a sandwich and some potato salad for later in the day—­hoping that I'd eventually have an appetite—­and carried on to JT's place. When I arrived, I let myself into the silent house through the front door and went straight to my studio. After shedding my jacket, I fastened my hair into a messy twist at the back of my head and fetched my spare violin from the corner of the room. Since I hadn't planned on coming straight to my studio after breakfast, I didn't have my best violin with me, but that didn't matter. My spare would serve me just fine for teaching purposes.

I removed my bow from the case and tightened it, rubbing a bit of rosin on the hairs. Next, I tuned up my instrument. Then I took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and lost myself in Jules Massenet's
Méditation
.

The intermezzo from Massenet's opera
Thaïs
never failed to speak directly to my soul. I drew the opening notes out of my instrument, allowing the peaceful melody to flow through me, to calm me. As I got deeper into the piece, it grew more passionate, and I poured all my emotions into the music, my eyes closed, nothing existing for me in that moment other than my violin and its song. When the melody grew peaceful and reflective again, I felt soothed, less burdened.

I was so absorbed in the music that I didn't hear JT come home. I only became aware of his arrival when Finnegan trotted in through the open door to my studio and rushed over to me for an enthusiastic greeting. Setting my bow on the ledge of the music stand, I knelt down to give him a one-­armed hug. After giving my cheek a good lick, a satisfied Finnegan trotted back out of my studio and down the hall.

Giving up on the intermezzo, I tucked my violin and bow securely away in my instrument case and made my way to the kitchen. JT stood by the sink, chugging down a glass of water.

“Hey,” he said when the last drop was gone.

“Did you guys have a good walk?”

“It was great, wasn't it, Finn?”

Finnegan sat in the middle of the kitchen and barked his agreement, his tail thumping against the tiles.

“Want something to drink?” JT offered.

“Sure. A vanilla latte, please.” I leaned against the granite countertop as JT set about making my drink.

“Sorry I missed your call last night.”

It took me a second to remember when and why I'd called. “No worries. It wasn't important. I forgot you'd be in the middle of band practice.”

JT handed me the latte and we wandered out onto the back porch, where we settled on the top step.

“Speaking of band practice,” JT said as Finnegan lay down at the bottom of the stairs, “you were all Aaron could talk about last night.”

I didn't respond, not knowing what to say. Memories from my last conversation with Aaron came flooding back, obliterating the calm the music had brought me. All I could see was Aaron walking away from me, his shoulders weighed down by the hurt I'd caused him.

“Dori? What's wrong?” JT asked after several seconds of silence had ticked by.

I stared out at the grassy yard, taking a moment to rein in my emotions as much as possible before replying. “I broke up with Aaron this morning. It was awful. I mean, it's not like there was a big scene or anything, but I hated hurting him.”

“I'm sorry, Dor. I never would have said what I did if I'd known.”

“I know. Don't worry about it.”

We sat in silence for a minute or two before JT asked, “What happened? I thought you really liked him.”

“I did. I do. And in the beginning he gave me butterflies and all that but now . . . There's something missing. Something important.” I released a growl of frustration. “Seriously, I don't get it. He's such an awesome guy. Why can't I be crazy about him?” I dropped my head into my hands. “Maybe I need to take some time away from dating so I can clear my head and figure out what it is I'm looking for.”

“You'll find the right person, Dori.”

“I hope you're right.”

“I am.”

I leaned against his arm and rested my head on his shoulder. Somehow sitting there with my best friend, sharing my thoughts with him, eased the storm of my unhappy emotions. He was such a steadying force in my life. I hoped he knew how much I appreciated that.

As we sat there together, watching Finnegan sniff at the bushes along the edge of the yard, a thought occurred to me. “How are things with you and Shauna?”

“We broke up a few weeks ago.”

I raised my head from his shoulder. “What? I had no idea.”

JT shrugged. “You couldn't have. I never said anything.”

“But why not? You know I want to know what's going on in your life.”

“I guess it didn't seem like a big deal. Things were never serious between us.”

My stomach sank like a ship's anchor. “I should have asked you sooner.”

He hadn't mentioned Shauna's name for weeks and I was well aware of that. But I hadn't asked.

“It doesn't matter, Dor. I promise.”

“I'm a terrible friend.” I didn't mean to say the words out loud, but I did.

“That's not anywhere close to the truth.” He put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Come on, don't be so hard on yourself.”

I rested my head on his shoulder again. “I guess I'm not in the greatest mood today.”

“Understandable.”

Down in the yard, Finnegan let out a volley of loud barks and bounded toward the back fence.

“What's up, boy?” I called.

Finnegan didn't react to the sound of my voice. Instead, he kept his nose pointed at the fence, barking with unusual urgency.

JT and I stood up at the same time, descending the steps into the yard. As we approached Finnegan, his barking only grew more insistent. We leaned over the fence to check out the alley. A flash of movement to my left caught my attention. I leaned farther over the fence for a better look and caught a glimpse of someone darting out of the alley and onto the side street several houses down.

Finnegan gave one last bark and resumed sniffing at the bushes, his interest in the alley gone in a flash. JT turned back to the house and made his way across the yard. I trailed behind him, unease humming through my bones. Although I wasn't anywhere close to certain, I thought the man who'd made the swift departure from the alley looked an awful lot like someone I didn't want anywhere near me—­Kevin.

A
N HOUR OF
practicing for the symphony's next concert and several hours of teaching my students helped to distract me from thoughts of Aaron. When I finished working for the day, JT was busy in his basement studio. I'd hoped to have his company over dinner but that wasn't to be, so I retrieved the potato salad I hadn't eaten at lunchtime and sat in the quiet kitchen eating my meal, Finnegan lying at my feet.

To prevent myself from replaying my breakup with Aaron like a broken record, I turned my thoughts to Bronwyn's situation. I felt like I was letting her down and I desperately wanted to find a way to help her.

Pausing between forkfuls of potato salad, I sent her a text message, asking if she'd ever had any conflicts with anyone in the orchestra. By the time I'd finished my salad and had washed it down with a glass of water, she'd responded.

Why?
she wanted to know.

I'm wondering if someone wanted to frame you
, I explained.

I can't think who
, she wrote back a minute later.
I've never had problems with anyone.

I tugged on my left earlobe as I considered her response. If none of the other musicians had a grudge against her, then I couldn't think of any reason why someone would purposely set her up to look like a thief.

Unless it was an accident.

I sent another quick message, asking Bronwyn if she'd ever left her bag unattended on the night of the reception.

She replied almost right away.

It was either locked in my locker or over my shoulder the entire evening.

Disappointed, I discarded the accident theory. It seemed highly unlikely that someone could have mistaken Bronwyn's bag for somebody else's if she'd never left it unattended while it was out of her locker. Unable to think of anything else remotely helpful at the moment, I sent Bronwyn a final message, telling her to try not to worry too much. That was probably a pointless suggestion, but I didn't know what else to say.

Leaving the kitchen, I wandered back to my studio and considered heading home, but realized I didn't want to go straight back to my apartment. Instead I decided to make a trip to the neighborhood library to pick up some books to keep me company later in the evening. I definitely needed a good story to distract me from unpleasant matters and I'd exhausted the supply of reading material I had at home.

Once I'd given Finnegan a hug goodbye and locked up JT's house behind me, I set off at a brisk pace toward Dunbar Street. Clouds had moved in over the past hour or so and the air held a promise of rain. The thought of having a good book to read appealed to me even more with worsening weather on the way. Curling up under a warm blanket and losing myself in a fictional world seemed like a good way to end a not so great day.

At the library I took my time browsing the shelves, choosing a historical novel and two mysteries, including the latest Richard Castle book. After checking out my selections at the circulation desk, I stepped outside to find rain pouring down from the dark sky, forming puddles that shimmered in the glow of headlights and streetlamps.

With my books tucked safely into my bag, I set off down the well-­lit street. A bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed several seconds later by a deep rumble of thunder. I clutched the strap of my bag, my throat going dry. I hated thunderstorms. Ever since a childhood friend had died from a lightning strike at age eleven, I'd feared storms more than almost anything.

Hesitating under the awning of a closed bakery, I considered whether I should hop on a bus and head home or go back to JT's and wait out the storm there. I stepped out from under the cover of the awning and peered up the street. There were no buses in sight.

More lightning flickered across the sky and I jumped when another rumble of thunder—­louder this time—­boomed out over the noises of rain and traffic. By the time yet another fork of lightning cut a jagged path across the dark sky, I had already made up my mind. I wasn't about to stand around waiting for a bus, not when I could reach JT's house in five minutes.

Half walking and half jogging, I hurried around the corner onto a quieter street. As much as I disliked damp clothes, the rain seeping through my jeans and jacket was the last thing I was worried about.

The sky flickered again and this time the clap of thunder followed a mere two seconds later. I tried to pick up my pace, but could only go so fast in my high-­heeled boots without risking a fractured ankle. Two blocks from JT's house, a shadowy figure darted out from behind a parked car. My already racing heart skipped a beat. The figure lunged toward me.

I screamed, but the rain and booming thunder swallowed up the sound. A rough hand clapped over my mouth and an arm locked around me from behind. I struggled and tried to scream again, but my attacker only tightened his grip.

“Shut up!” he growled in my ear.

I kicked him in the shin with the heel of my right boot and darted out of his grasp when he cursed with pain. I ran for the nearest house, but my attacker grabbed me from behind again and smashed me up against a large tree. He jerked my hands behind my back and kept me pinned against the trunk, my cheek mashed against the wet bark. When I whimpered, he tightened his grip on my wrists.

“I told you to shut up!”

Choking back a cry of pain and terror, I hoped and prayed that someone would look out their window and see us. But even if someone did look outside I wasn't sure they'd be able to see anything unless a flash of lightning illuminated us at the right moment.

I closed my eyes as my attacker leaned in close.

“Listen up. I didn't kill my father.”

I registered his voice and his words.

Kevin Major.

“Got that? I didn't kill him. But if you don't stop interfering and telling the cops that I did, I won't hesitate to shut you up for good. Understand?” He didn't wait for me to answer. “I left a message with your boyfriend, but delivering it directly to you has been much more satisfying.”

He jerked me back a few inches and slammed me against the tree again. I couldn't stifle a cry when my face hit the trunk. He yanked me away from the tree once more and I put my hands out in front of me, expecting another collision with the trunk, but this time Kevin wrenched me to the side before shoving me forward.

I crashed to the ground, my knees hitting wet grass, my palms slamming against the sidewalk. Pounding footsteps headed away from me. I raised my head and peered through the darkness and driving rain. Kevin fled away up the street, disappearing into the shadows. I gasped with relief and climbed to my feet, shaking so hard that I had to lean against the tree for support. When I was finally upright, I glanced around for my bag. It had fallen from my arm sometime during my struggle with Kevin. I spotted it on the sidewalk a few feet away.