Requiem Murder [Book 2 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] (10 page)

BOOK: Requiem Murder [Book 2 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries]
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"Pride,” I said. “And one must be prepared for the worst. Besides, it could be that they're just friends. Roger doesn't seem to be marriage-minded and he's not fond of Robby."

"You'll see."

Laura rose. “Now that you and Katherine have tried to arrange lives, I think it's time to leave. As usual, the food was wonderful and the game fun."

"Absolutely delicious.” Edward said. “It was sweet of you to have us."

Lars and I walked them to the door. When they had reached their car, he put his arm around me. “Must you always needle him?"

"If only he wasn't so sure and so full of pride. Besides, he'd think it odd if I didn't poke holes in his fantasies. Thanks for coming."

He put his fingers on my lips. “Don't toss me out yet. Let me give you a hand in the kitchen and try to persuade you to at least visit me this winter."

"We'll see.” I hid a yawn with my hand. “First, let the beast out of his cage."

A moment later Robespierre bounded into the kitchen. Lars followed with a pair of shredded panty hose in his hand. “Your bedroom's a disaster area and I hope you weren't planning to wear these again."

I glared at the cat. “You're not funny."

Lars laughed. “He's spoiled."

"You're right. He thinks he's punishing me."

Lars began loading the dishwasher. “Come spend New Year's Eve with me. I hate hanging around with my daughter and her husband. She says she feels guilty about leaving me alone."

"Can I bring the cat?"

"Send him to Maria's."

"I'll think about it."

"That's what you always say. If you appeared on my doorstep, I'd probably have heart failure. At least write. Your letters are filled with amazing stories and some of them about people I don't know."

"Hang around me long enough and you will."

"What's your take on Edward's latest match-making scheme? He nearly convinced me."

I put leftovers in storage containers and passed the empty dishes to Lars. “He's wrong. Roger's using Beth. She's going to be hurt."

"Don't meddle."

"After last summer I've sworn off. I'll just be an observer."

"Good.” He shook his head. “Your vow will last until someone you love gets hurt. What's wrong with Roger Brandon? I thought you believed he was the greatest. I remember hearing you say you coveted him."

"Musically, he is, but he's not so great as a person. I've seen the pair together and there are no sparks. He borrows her car. She feeds him. She runs errands for him. When we went to the Pub after choir, she bought his drink."

Lars’ laughter filled the kitchen. “You went to the Pub at night? How many passes did you fend off?"

"I was well chaperoned. More than half the choir was there."

"I'm glad you got home safely."

"Beth brought me.” I laughed. “I didn't even finish my drink. Too much noise, too much smoke, too much Judith Simpson."

"Aha. Don't blame you a bit."

Once the food was stored and the dishwasher started, Lars kissed me good night. After putting the bedroom in order I went to bed. My dreams were filled with attempts to untangle a web. I woke feeling groggy and before taking my walk I drank several cups of tea. Many more dreams filled with such frustration and I'd have to do something about the tangled lives in my sphere. The problem centered around which line to follow.

* * * *

October slid toward November and on hearing that a frost had been predicted, the time had come to cover my mint beds with straw. Though most of the plants are hardy, some aren't and I'd rather err on the cautious side. I filled my garden barrow with straw and started the mindless chore. As I worked, I saw Marcie and waved. She ran across the street.

"You look pretty today."

"Thanks."

She wore jeans and a pink sweater that made her porcelain skin glow. Her brown hair had been curled at the ends.

"So what's been happening?"

"A lot,” she said. “The Saturday music program is challenging. My teachers want me to enter some competitions. They rave about my improvement.” She grabbed some straw and joined me in my work. “It's because of Roger and the way he's been helping me learn how to tap my inner power."

"Have you decided on a college yet?"

She shook her head. “Roger and I are making a list of the ones with solid music programs and their requirements. I'll spend this year mastering what I need for auditions. I might double major in voice."

"What about something more practical?"

"If my voice is half as good as Roger says, I won't have to worry."

"And your parents?"

"You know Mom. She doesn't want me to compete, to attend the Saturdays, to have lessons with Roger, or to major in music in college. She's always reminding me of how much older he is than me.” She bent and carefully spread the straw. “She doesn't get the picture. He can help me get what I want. Does that sound selfish?"

"A little, but I understand what you mean."

"He loves music as much as I do."

She followed me as I pushed the barrow to the last bed. “I'm sure you enjoy talking music with him. I know I do. Maybe your mother would like to see you spend time with your peers.” So would I, but unlike Judith, I wouldn't try to bully her.

"So she says.” Marcie laughed. “They're infants. I don't enjoy the things they do. All they want to talk about is boys and who's doing what with who. Boring. I'll be sixteen next month but I feel ages older than they are."

What could I say? While searching for words, I finished my chore. “You must have classmates who know what they want."

"And like me, they're busy laying their foundations. That's what Roger says."

The rest of her conversation focused on what Roger said. My head ached and I tuned her out. Once the tools were in the storage shed, she left. As I walked upstairs, I wondered if I'd missed anything important.

* * * *

[Back to Table of Contents]

 

Chapter 7
~
Confutatus
-

As the rehearsals for the Evensong continued, my role changed from observer to participant. Thank heavens I'd worked with the choir last spring and had oiled rusty skills. Roger drove me as hard as he did the choir and himself. He even spent an afternoon showing me his particular style of directing. I must admit I savored the challenge and was infused with a desire to excel.

Something in Roger's aura troubled me. I understood his passion for music and for perfection. That wasn't what bothered me, but I couldn't finger the cause.

His likeness to a caged jungle cat grew stronger. Several times I observed temper flares, usually over petty things. A dropped hymnal during rehearsal of the Sunday offertory evoked biting remarks. A member arriving five minutes late for rehearsal produced a tirade on loyalty. The explosions were quick and ended as rapidly as they arose.

Most of the time Beth acted as a buffer between Roger and a growing number of disgruntled singers. Did he appreciate her efforts to diffuse potential problems? I had my doubts.

The pressure of the coming performance began to affect everyone. Even the most placid members caught Roger's feverish push for perfection. My prayers became a plea for the explosion to wait until after the performance.

And one more element waited to be added to the volatile atmosphere—the soloists.

On the Thursday before rehearsal week while Beth parked the car, I hurried to the church. I intended to ask Roger to let up on the pressure. The sound of Judith's voice with all trace of stridency gone halted me on the steps. Her words brought a rush of anger.

"We just won't tell her what we've planned. Come on, Roger, you have the right to spend an evening without her. She's not your keeper."

"You know what I feel about after choir activities. Everyone should be included."

She made a purring sound. “You're too nice. Tonight's for a special group chosen by me. Do you really think your position is secure? With one snap of my fingers you could be gone. I've only invited the people you need to impress. People who could help advance your career. Not everyone's from the choir."

My hand tightened on the railing. He paused for a long time.

"Come on, cut the strings before you're stuck in the widow's web. She's a sweet, young thing, but —” she laughed, a low throaty sound. “Besides, Martin's away for a few days."

"What do you mean? Where is he? Doesn't he realize how important these last rehearsals are?” Anger tightened Roger's voice.

"His mother's in the hospital. He had to drive upstate to see her."

"Will he be back next week? We've four rehearsals scheduled and I need every voice present."

"Martin? He's Mr. Dependable. Don't worry. He'll be here. He told me seven times to reassure you about that.” She made a derisive sound. “He's not the most vital voice for the Requiem."

She paused. Was she waiting for Roger's assurance of her importance?

"About tonight?” she asked.

"Just this once,” he said.

The heavy oak door closed with a bang. Someone clattered up the steps. A moment later an out-of-breath Beth arrived. She reached for my wrist. “You're flushed. Are you all right?"

"Just lost in thought.” And angry with the pair who'd already arrived.

"I'll get the car after choir. I had to park two blocks away. Must be something going on."

"A meeting of the bazaar committee.” A meeting I would have attended but for my commitment to Roger and the choir. Her arrival had startled me and I hoped it had shocked the pair in the choir room. When we entered Roger was seated at the piano studying his score.

Judith turned from the bulletin board. “Mrs. Miller, can I put you down for a chocolate cake for the after concert party?"

"Of course."

"And Beth, why don't you bring wine? I know how busy you are with your job and your son. I'm sure you don't want to spend your free time cooking."

"Put me down for chips and dip. One of the women I work with brought a recipe I'd like to try."

"Nothing too outre, I hope. I suppose you won't have a problem with dip.” She smiled. “It's hard to be a gourmet cook when you have a small child. Their taste is limited to hot dogs, hamburgers and macaroni and cheese. How I remember those days."

Judith was no one to talk about cooking skills. I'd eaten a number of the meals she mentioned at her house when Marcie was my piano student.

"And what are you bringing?"

"Guess you haven't heard. The Wilsons have to leave the minute we finish singing. Justin's coming home from England. I told them to stop by the house if they get back early enough."

"It will be good to see him again."

She laughed. “Two years at Cambridge should have changed him from the studious lump he was.” She approached Beth with a cat-like glide. “He's a year or two younger than you, but I definitely can fix you up."

Beth glanced at Roger. “I'm content with my life as it is."

Judith's sly smile annoyed me. Roger stared at the keyboard. Beth's shoulders stiffened and she walked to her seat. Had she guessed she was about to be dumped—again?

At the break before we moved to the church, Beth cornered Roger. I didn't hear what he said but her expression told me she was hurt. For the rest of the rehearsal, she was quiet.

As we headed back to the choir room, Beth handed me her music folder. “I'll get the car. Looks like we're not going out tonight. Roger said he's too tired to even stop by the house."

One of the regular Pub goers started to speak and then coughed. I headed upstairs and waited until Roger was alone.

"What are you doing to Beth? She's been running interference for you for weeks. Doesn't she deserve the truth?"

"I'm in a bind. Look, Judith is upset about something Beth said to Marcie. Judith's also on edge about the performance. She's a soloist and I have to keep her happy until after the Evensong. Once that's over —"

"Judith's married."

He laughed. “I'm not interested in her that way. She's too old."

His interest in Judith wasn't what bothered me. Judith's desire formed the core of my concern. I've watched her flirtations for years. There was something different in her pursuit of him. Something that disturbed me and I didn't know why. His response added to my worries. His laughter had been detached and made me think he was a cold- blooded observer roiling the pool and waiting to see the results.

As I left the choir room, Judith appeared at the foot of the steps. “Roger, hurry up. Everyone will be waiting at the house.” She put her hand on my arm. “After Beth drops you off, why don't you walk over to the house?"

"It's rather late and I'm up early. Another time.” I wanted no part of whatever game she'd chosen and I'd pick Beth over her any time. I hoped Beth had waited in the car. Soon enough, she'd learn she hadn't been included, but Roger owed her an explanation and some consideration.

When I reached the car, I knew she knew. Her eyes filled with tears but her voice held anger. “What did I do to them?"

"Nothing. This is a Judith's game and the first time he's given in to her manipulation."

She shook her head. “Not the first time. I thought Roger and I were friends...even more. Any time he was bored, I was there. When he needed a car, he borrowed mine. I even paid the check when we went out to dinner. He used me."

"You let it happen."

"Never again. I quit. I'll call him tomorrow and let him know I won't be performing with the choir any longer."

"A bit drastic and the explosion that's waiting to happen will fall on you. Plus, Judith will gloat and get a rush from pushing another person from the choir. Don't let her run your life."

"Am I supposed to act like nothing happened?"

"That's the adult way."

She sucked in a breath. “You're right. Would you come in for a bit?"

Though I wanted mint tea, classical music and my cat, I nodded. She needed a friend. “For a bit."

When we pulled into the driveway of her rented house, Pete's car was parked at the curb. Beth slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. “Something's happened to Robby."

I turned out the headlights and pulled the key from the ignition. Then I followed Beth to the house.

BOOK: Requiem Murder [Book 2 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries]
4.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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