Death in a Major (14 page)

A few minutes later, I let out a frustrated huff. Again, nothing of interest. I'd learned that Ernest was an accountant, but nothing beyond that.

I decided to look up Marjorie Alberts next. Yes, she'd lost her job when Major died, and he'd only left her five thousand dollars in his will, but there were some crazies out there who would kill for that much, or even for less.

After I typed Marjorie's full name into the search bar, I spent several minutes scrolling through the results and following a handful of links. I soon came to the conclusion that none of the information available pertained to the Marjorie Alberts who had worked for Archibald Major. The women with the same name who showed up in the search results either lived in the wrong part of the world, were no longer living, were nowhere near the right age, or had completely different physical appearances. Not a single scrap of information related to the frizzy-­haired Marjorie Alberts I was interested in.

Next, I tried Frances Barlow, the name of Major's newly revealed daughter. I found one person by that name who was approximately the right age. She even lived in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, as evidenced by her involvement in a community theater group in Langley, a suburb of Vancouver. While it seemed like there was a good chance that she was indeed the Frances Barlow who stood to inherit under Major's will, that didn't do much for my investigation. None of the information I found on her seemed the least bit suspicious or illuminating.

I scanned my eyes over a photo of Barlow with her community theater group, taken to help promote a play presented back in the spring. The actors were dressed for their parts in the production of
Cinderella
. Frances Barlow, according to the caption, had the role of the wicked stepmother. I closed the Web browser.

My online research had proven at least somewhat helpful with respect to Bronwyn's predicament, but I couldn't say the same in relation to Mr. Major's murder. Tiring of my endeavor, I didn't bother typing in Kevin Major's name. I already knew he had criminal, violent tendencies as well as a motive to kill his father since he was in desperate need of money. Although I still wasn't convinced that he would have the patience or forethought to pull off a poisoning, I did like the idea of him being behind bars for a long, long time. And I didn't know him well enough to rule him out. Maybe he was capable of devious planning when he wasn't busy getting all physically aggressive and violent.

I sat back in my chair and stared at my computer screen with annoyance. I was no further ahead with figuring out Major's murder than I'd been when I woke up that morning. And although I now had a suspect for the jewelry theft, I wasn't sure what my next step should be in that respect. Confront Janine and see what she had to say for herself?

Possibly.

In the meantime, though, I decided to try to focus on something else. I wouldn't see Janine until that evening and I figured I'd leave my investigation into Major's death alone until Jordan came up with something of interest.

With several hours of teaching ahead of me and a concert that evening, I knew my day would be a long one. After organizing everything I needed, I left my apartment and headed for my studio at an unhurried pace, enjoying the pleasant autumn weather as well as a short respite from thoughts of murder, theft, and suspects.

 

Chapter Fifteen

M
Y LEISURELY WALK
took me to Forty-­First Avenue, where I purposely avoided looking at the shoe store where I'd seen the beautiful gray boots. Thinking about Elena strutting around in the same boots still irritated me, but I didn't want to focus on the negative while I was enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Doing my best to keep Elena out of my thoughts, I boarded a bus that would take me to JT's neighborhood, leaving the shoe store well behind me. As I made my way toward an empty seat, I took my phone out of my purse to see if I'd heard from Jordan. I hadn't. I had, however, received a text message from JT, asking me if I was ready for him to pick me up and drive me to his place.

Oops. I'd completely forgotten that he didn't want me going anywhere by myself, even in daylight. I'd also forgotten about the danger posed by Kevin. That surprised me, but maybe it shouldn't have. With so much on my mind lately, it was a wonder I could remember anything at all.

I just got on the bus
, I texted to JT, hoping he wouldn't be too upset with me.

Dori . . .
was all he sent back.

Sorry! I totally forgot. But I'm fine. Don't worry.

If he was upset, he didn't let me know. In fact, he didn't send any sort of message back to me. I wasn't sure if that was a bad sign or no sign at all.

While the mere thought of another encounter with Kevin freaked me out, I didn't think I was in any danger while on a bus with several other passengers. Walking from the bus stop to JT's house might be another story, but at least it wouldn't be dark out this time.

In the end, however, it turned out that I didn't have to worry about walking on my own. When the bus pulled up to my stop, JT stood waiting for me on the sidewalk, Finnegan sitting at his feet. I smiled at the sight of him, although I noticed that his expression didn't match my own.

“I wish you'd take your safety more seriously,” he said as soon as I stepped off the bus.

Finnegan strained at his leash to reach me.

“JT . . .” I said as I closed the short distance between us, crouching down to greet Finnegan.

“Seriously, Dori. I don't want that guy coming near you ever again.”

“Neither do I, but . . .” I trailed off. I really didn't want to argue with him, and his expression told me loud and clear that he wasn't about to change his position on the matter. “Okay. I'll try not to be so forgetful next time.” I poked him in the arm as we set off along the sidewalk. “Don't be grumpy, okay?”

The muscles in his jaw relaxed and he almost smiled. “All right.” A second later his face turned serious again. “Aaron called me last night.”

My face fell, right along with my stomach. “What about?”

JT hesitated. “He quit the band.”

“What? Why?” My stomach dropped farther. “No. Not because of me?”

He hesitated again. The fact that he didn't want to answer was answer enough.

“But why?” I asked, dismayed. “I'm rarely at your band practices and I would have made sure to avoid them from now on.”

“I guess he didn't want to risk running into you. He knows you spend a lot of time at my place. And maybe he thought it would be awkward since you and I are best friends.”

“Ugh. I'm sorry, JT. I feel terrible.” That was putting it mildly.

“It's not your fault,” he assured me. “It was his decision.”

“One he made because I dumped him.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“But you guys have a gig next weekend,” I reminded him.

“We'll find a new drummer. And I know someone who can fill in temporarily until we do. So, really, don't worry.”

“Ugh,” I said again, because what else was there to say?

A change of topic was definitely needed.

“What are you working on these days?” I asked as we paused so Finnegan could sniff at the base of a fire hydrant.

“Mostly laying tracks for other ­peoples' albums.” JT gave Finnegan's leash a gentle tug to hurry him along. “But I also finished a new track for
Absolute Zero
,” he said, referring to the science fiction TV show he was composing music for.

“That's great. The series premieres next week, right?”

“Yep. Next Friday.”

“And we're having a party?”

One corner of JT's mouth twitched upward. “If you don't mind my mom and stepdad being there. They're super excited about the whole thing.”

“I am too.” I hooked my arm through his. “And of course I don't mind. You know I love your parents.”

“I don't want to make a huge deal out of it, though.”

“But it
is
a huge deal.”

“The show could get canceled after three episodes.”

“Even if that happened—­which it won't—­it's still amazing that your music is going to be on TV.”

“It is pretty cool,” JT agreed, his smile growing.

“We can keep the party small if you want,” I said. “But we are going to celebrate. No arguments there.”

All traces of JT's earlier sternness had disappeared, leaving him relaxed and cheerful. “That's okay by me.”

I gave his arm a squeeze and we continued walking along in companionable silence. I kept my arm hooked through his, not worried about anything right then, not even Elena, Kevin, or my feelings for JT. My mood was too cheerful for anything to drag it down. In that moment, with my best friend and my favorite dog at my side, everything was right in my world.

J
ORDAN DIDN'
T FIND
anything worth reporting that day. Or if he did, he didn't let me know about it. When I arrived at the Abrams Center before the evening's concert, I noted with relief that Bronwyn was present in the musicians' lounge. If she'd skipped out on the concert her position with the orchestra might have been in jeopardy, regardless of whether her innocence was ever proven in relation to the theft. She was clearly uneasy about being there, though. She stood at her open locker, her head down and her back to the rest of the room. As soon as I'd set down my violin, I went over to join her.

“I think I might know who the real thief is,” I whispered.

Her head jerked up, surprise and cautious hope in her eyes. “Really? Who?” She dropped her voice. “Janine?”

“It's a good possibility.”

“But why set me up? Does she really hate me that much?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Some ­people can't let go of a grudge.”

“But I never did anything to her. The seating change was the professor's decision, and that was years ago.”

“I know, but resentment isn't always logical or time-­limited.”

Bronwyn glanced across the room where Janine was warming up by running through a melody on her violin. “Can you prove it was her?”

“Not yet,” I said. “But I'm hoping that's going to change soon.”

“Thank you, Midori. It means so much to me that you believe me.”

I gave her a hug and then went to fetch my violin. Although I wanted to confront Janine, it wasn't the right time or place. Even though I strongly suspected she was the real thief, I didn't know for certain and didn't want to falsely accuse her in front of our fellow musicians. Hopefully I'd have a chance to speak with her after the concert.

As I set my violin case on a nearby table and undid the first clasp, I caught a flash of movement in my peripheral vision. I glanced up to see Bronwyn marching out of the lounge, her face set with grim determination. My eyes followed her line of sight just in time to see Janine disappear out into the hallway. Several feet behind her, Bronwyn picked up her pace.

“Oh no,” I muttered under my breath.

Abandoning my violin, I rushed after Bronwyn, hoping I'd be in time to prevent a disaster.

Stupid, stupid, stupid
, I berated myself silently. I never should have told Bronwyn about my suspicions.

I dashed out the door and around the corner, but then came to an abrupt stop. Bronwyn and Janine were already facing off.

“Did you frame me for the theft?” Bronwyn demanded.

I grabbed her arm. “This isn't a good idea.”

Although I tried to lead her away, she stood her ground, her eyes still fixed on Janine.

“What are you talking about?” Janine said.

“The brooch,” Bronwyn said. “Did you put it in my bag?”

“Of course not!” Janine narrowed her eyes. “Everyone knows you stole it. Trying to blame me is ridiculous.”

“It's not ridiculous if you're the thief.”

“Now you sound crazy.”

I put my hand on Bronwyn's arm again. “Guys, let's not do this.”

They both ignored me.

“It wasn't my fault you got bumped back to the second row in university, you know,” Bronwyn said. “Why do you blame me for the professor's decision?”

“What are you talking about?” Janine's words were laced with disdain.

“Isn't that why you tried to set me up?”

“I didn't try to set you up!”

“Guys!” I stepped between them. “This isn't accomplishing anything.”

Bronwyn glared over my shoulder at Janine. “Tell her, Midori. Tell her why you think she's guilty.”

Janine narrowed her eyes at me this time. “You started this?”

“I'm just trying to help Bronwyn,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “I know she's not a thief so I'm trying to figure out who framed her.”

“So you randomly throw the blame on me?”

“It's not random,” Bronwyn said. “Right, Midori?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “No, I didn't pick you at random, Janine. I think the theft at the reception is related to thefts that occurred at a charity benefit a few weeks ago. The one your quartet played at. Some of the attendees had jewelry stolen, just like at the reception. You were at both events, you said yourself that you need extra money, and Bronwyn isn't exactly your favorite person.”

“This is nuts.” Janine put her hands on her hips. “First of all, I'm not a thief.” She shot a baleful glare at Bronwyn. “Unlike some ­people.” She plowed on before Bronwyn could object. “Second of all, even if I'd wanted to steal from ­people at the charity benefit, I wouldn't have had the chance. We musicians never mingled with the guests. We were either on a little stage in the corner or in a back room on our own.” She aimed her dagger-­eyes at me. “Ask the other members of my quartet if you don't believe me.”

I opened my mouth, but Janine continued on.

“And finally, if I was going to steal jewelry because I needed the money, why the heck would I put it in Bronwyn's bag?”

“Revenge!” Bronwyn said.

Janine threw her hands up in the air. “Now you don't even know what you're accusing me of! Stealing for money or stealing to frame you so I could get revenge? Which, by the way, is ridiculous in itself. Like I'd waste my time on you.”

Bronwyn took a step toward Janine and I hurried to put a hand out to hold her back.

“Okay, this really isn't accomplishing anything good,” I said.

A light bulb seemed to go on in Bronwyn's head. “What about your new designer handbag?” she asked Janine.

Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation. “What about it?”

“If you're short on funds, how could you afford it?”

“So you're accusing me of stealing that too? It was a
gift.
From my boyfriend. You want to ask him?” she challenged, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

As much as I wanted to get the situation under control, I couldn't bring myself to tell her that wouldn't be necessary.

“You know what? I don't need to call him. Look at this.” She ran her thumb over the screen of her phone, scrolling back through text messages. A second later she thrust the phone toward me and Bronwyn. “See?”

I took the phone and held it steady so I could read the messages. The one at the top of the screen was from someone named Andrew. Presumably, that was Janine's boyfriend.

Do you like your present?
Andrew's message read.

I LOVE it!!!
Janine had written back.
How did you know I wanted this bag?

I saw you admiring it the other day.

I can't believe you remembered!!! And hot pink is my favorite color!!! I love you so much!!!

Janine had added a string of hearts after the last message.

I handed the phone back to her, not bothering to read any more of the messages.

“So you didn't steal the bag,” Bronwyn said. “That doesn't mean you didn't steal the other things.”

“I'm not so sure,” I said before Janine had a chance to react.

“Who else would want to frame me?” Bronwyn asked.

“I don't know.” I took her arm and gently pulled her a step back from Janine. “But I think we might be barking up the wrong tree here.”

“I'll say.” Janine shot more daggers at us with her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I was only trying to help Bronwyn. I never meant for things to get out of hand.”

“Whatever,” Janine said, her voice full of contempt. “Just don't you dare go spreading any more lies about me.”

With that, she turned on her heel and marched off down the hallway, away from the musicians' lounge.

Beside me Bronwyn seemed to have deflated, her anger replaced by defeat. “You really believe she's innocent?”

“She seemed genuinely surprised by the accusations,” I said. “Maybe she's just a good actress, but I have a feeling she's telling the truth.”

Bronwyn's shoulders sagged. “I've made things worse, haven't I? She'll probably tell her friends I accused her of being a thief and then everyone will hate me.”

“Everyone will not hate you,” I said firmly. “And we're still going to figure this out.”