Requiem Murder [Book 2 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] (9 page)

Rabies shots, at least years ago were nothing to be enjoyed, but the disease was worse. Though I wanted to warn her to be careful about her renewed friendship with Roger, she wouldn't listen. Until the next time he froze her out, she was his willing acolyte.

Rehearsal was an eye-opener for me. Roger drove the choir hard, but he didn't spare himself. I studied his directing style and marked my score with the changes he'd made since our lunch meeting. My directions should conform to his expectations.

Seeing the way he drove the choir and himself made me realize how he'd attained the spectacular results with the choir and the organ. He didn't have as much natural talent as Marcie, but he disciplined every ounce and pushed himself with fierce determination. At times his sharp comments troubled me.

A loud noise startled me. I looked up to see he'd slammed the keyboard cover. I cringed. That was no way to treat any instrument. Roger pointed his finger. A flush covered his face.

"Tenors, watch me,” he roared. “Are you tripping in dreamland? You should have this section memorized. I find you ragged and unprepared. Do you want to be the joke of the community? The success of our performance depends on your squeezing out every ounce of music you possess. I will not tolerate this."

He prowled the area in front of the piano and reminded me of a caged panther I'd once seen at the zoo. His tantrum shocked me, but I noticed none of the choir members seemed affronted by what appeared to me to be an inappropriate reaction.

"Sopranos, you're slurring your esses. We've worked on that fault for weeks. Pay attention to your diction. Judith, were you asleep? You're the section leader and if I can't depend on you to keep your section together, I'll look for someone else."

Judith's expression frightened me. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth thinned. While the alto's entrance had been slow, they'd blended well.

He paused at the piano and struck four notes. “Try this section again, and this time, pay attention."

They did. The difference amazed me.

Since there was no need to mark my score during the repeat, I studied the expressions of the choir members. The anger had faded from Judith's face and she eyed Roger like a glutton contemplating a seven course meal. Beth also watched him with rapt attention. The fervor of her glance nearly embarrassed me. Was she falling in love and was he worthy of her devotion?

When rehearsal ended and the choir dispersed, Roger caught up with me at the sanctuary door. “What do you think?"

"I'm astonished. It's nearly perfect."

"That's not acceptable.” Though he smiled, his eyes and the tone of his voice were dead serious. “Come with us to the Pub and we'll go over our scores. You can point out the rough spots."

"Can't we do it tomorrow?” Though I hadn't been a participant, the currents of a dozen conflicting energies had exhausted me.

"Best done while it's fresh. We could stay here, but we'd be keeping Beth, too. I'm depending on her for a ride. My car's in the shop."

Was that his reason for courting Beth? The idea lodged in my thoughts. What could I do if that was the case? Beth was so enthralled she'd never believe me.

"I'll go, but I won't stay late. I need my rest.” And a break from the charged atmosphere Judith always generated.

He laughed. “You've more energy than most women half your age. If all older women were like you, I'd...change my dating habits."

Flattery works. My doubts slipped into a holding area. As we entered the choir room where Beth waited, he took my arm. “Oh, Beth, I forgot to tell the soloists I want to see them on Monday. Remind me to tell them."

"I will."

I tucked my score in my handbag. Roger held his in his hand. We walked downstairs and to Beth's car where Roger folded himself into the back seat.

When I entered the Pub the aroma of cigarette smoke brought on a coughing fit. A television at the end of the bar blared. Numbers flashed on a board. The crowd gathered at the bar and in the booths along the walls talked and laughed in loud voices. Most of them didn't look old enough to drink. Roger steered me into a second room, a bit brighter, a tad less smoky and found seats at a large center table. Judith waved and headed to the bar.

Roger held my chair and sat beside me. Beth took our drink orders. I handed her money. He didn't. More than half the choir had come, a change from the days of Judith's exclusive invitations.

He spread his score on the table. “Did you bring yours?"

I extracted my copy from my capacious handbag. “I'm not sure I can concentrate here."

"If you mean the noise, I tune it out."

"You've greater powers of concentration than I do. Probably my large curiosity is the cause. I like to listen to what others say and hear their secrets."

He laughed and pulled a bowl of popcorn closer. “But you seldom give anyone's secrets away."

"Because they're not mine."

Beth returned with our drinks. “Don't forget to mention the soloists’ rehearsal. You'll have to call Ralph."

He waved her away. “Remind me later.” He pointed to one of the passages I'd heard tonight. “This needs work."

"A bit. Though there was a vast improvement after your lecture.” I pointed to a second section. “The basses overpowered the other sections here. You may have to ask several of the men not to sing."

He nodded. “Or have the other sections a bit more fortissimo. Let me think about this."

Judith sauntered across the room with a glass of amber liquid in her hand. “I don't believe you're discussing business here.” She stood behind him and pressed her body against his chair. “Aren't you going to relax?” She ran her fingers along his neck.

He grasped her hand. “Let me be."

"Roger, we're here to socialize and have fun. I need to talk to you. Let's take a walk."

"Judith.” Martin rose. “Let me get you some chili or a crock of onion soup."

She stroked Roger's neck. “Later we'll have our little talk, all right?"

Maybe the other choir members were used to her behavior because no one looked up. Roger's eyes held a trace of disgust. Martin's body language shouted anger. Tension gathered and my unease peaked.

"Let's do this tomorrow. My head's pounding. I can't handle the noise, the smoke, the confusion.” I pushed my chair back and tucked my score away. “I'll bring a tape recorder next week. Then we can play it back."

"Good idea.” He patted my hand. “The atmosphere is a bit heavy tonight."

A bit, I thought. More like a storm approached and I wasn't sure there was a way to stop trouble from visiting the choir.

"I'll take you home.” Beth turned to Roger. “Do you want —"

He lightly caressed her hand. “Come back for me."

"Don't bother,” Judith called. “I'll drive him home. I have some things to discuss with him."

"We walked, remember.” Martin said.

Judith sank on a chair. “And whose idea was that?"

The answer was lost when Beth and I exited the second room and entered the noisy bar. I rubbed my temples.

"Are you okay?” Beth asked.

"An overdose of Judith."

"What did you think of the rehearsal?"

"The Mozart is shaping up nicely...Does he often have temper tantrums?"

She frowned. “The tenors and altos weren't paying attention. He's so dedicated and hard working that these things really upset him."

"He has to remember they're volunteers."

"I know, but he puts himself under pressure. He needs someone to take care of him."

I stared at the moon. Not full yet, but her idea was crazy. She was a good nurse and a natural nurturer and those qualities put her in danger of being trod on. “Don't fall into a trap. He might be the kind of man who delights in having a harem."

"Mrs. Miller, what do you mean?"

"I've noticed how many women, not just the choir members, fuss over him. Even I feel flattered by his attention. What does he give you?"

"Companionship. Affection—at least I think he does. Music appreciation.” She sighed. “I'm ready to move on. In the past year I've dated two men. They didn't want what I want and that I have a son bothered them. Roger's at the house a lot. He's lonely and so am I. Life can be a drag when you're not part of a couple."

"What about —” I cut off my question, but I wondered why she'd forgotten her hurt and anger of several weeks ago.

"About what?” she asked.

"Pete.” I hadn't meant to mention him, but I needed to divert the conversation from Roger.

She shrugged. “He comes and takes Robby places. He acts like a big brother to both of us."

And that was a good place for him to start. “How does Roger treat your son?"

She frowned. “Fine. Of course he doesn't play games with Robby, but he's a much more serious person. Robby kind of stays out of his way. Unless Roger comes for dinner, he waits until Robby's in bed."

"Does he return your favors?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

I shook my head. Maybe she didn't see loaning her car, playing secretary or buying his drinks as favors. I pray she doesn't end up playing Martha while some Mary steals him away.

Several mornings later as I walked through the fallen leaves on my way to the river, Pete fell into step beside me. His dark auburn hair needed a trim and he looked like he hadn't slept. “More weight loss activity?” I asked.

He made a face. “You would ask that. Couldn't you just think I wanted some time with you and this is the best chance I have? I figure you'll be giving up your walks soon."

"Only during blizzards and ice storms."

He linked arms with me. “How close are you and Beth?"

"Why do you ask?"

He kicked a pile of leaves. “Roger the perfect man. You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Beth, Robby and I did things together for a couple of weeks. Seems Roger was busy. Guess he's unbusy these days. When I stopped by to take them to dinner, he was there so I took Robby. The boy's upset. He doesn't like Roger and he's afraid to tell his mother."

His voice held distaste and every time he mentioned Roger, his hand tightened on my arm. “Are you sure he's not picking up your dislike? You're his hero."

"I try not to say anything."

"You don't have to. Children are experts at reading body language."

"Then you might be right. I don't like him. It's taken me until now to figure out why."

Would Pete have a view of Roger's character that would help me understand my growing uneasiness? “I'll bite."

He studied the ground. “I like...maybe more than like Beth. I've fought my feelings since the day we built the snowman. I could have left that day and never given her a thought. Except I couldn't. I decided Robby needed a male influence, so I hung around. But that wasn't the real reason...She treats me like I'm one of Robby's friends."

"Serves you right.” Containing my laughter caused me to choke.

He pounded my back. “Not funny, but you're right. I had this idea about not getting involved with some man's leftovers."

I stopped so abruptly he nearly fell. “What a stupid bit of logic."

His grin was sheepish. “Yeah. I know that. Think I was afraid. She looked good to me that day. Still does. Guess it's too late. She and that creep look happy with each other."

"Maybe, maybe not.” How could I tell him that though Beth had bought Roger's excuses, they were subject to change? Knowing my young friend, he'd try to force Beth to see what she needed to discover on her own. “Keep cool. Be her friend. One problem is that she thinks he needs her."

"You mean if I act like I can't handle my life, she'll come running?"

"You're not that good an actor. Remember your undercover experience."

He groaned. “Not my thing."

"Just be there when she needs you."

He kissed my cheek and jogged away. I walked to the river and tossed pebbles in a tide pool along the bank. Ripples spread in concentric circles. Just like life where a single event can spread and infect many lives.

On Friday night, I invited Edward, Laura and Lars for dinner and bridge. This would be our last chance for a game before Lars left for New Mexico. We dined on corn chowder, Yankee pot roast with Boston cream pie for dessert. As usual Edward complimented the cook with effusive comments.

After we cleared the table, we went to the living room for cards. Loud thumping sounds came from the bedroom.

"Good grief, Katherine, do you think you're being robbed again?” Edward asked.

"It's Robespierre announcing his displeasure."

Laura chuckled. “I guess he smells your shoe polish."

"What's he doing?” Lars asked.

"Something mean. Sometimes he acts like a spoiled brat. If we ignore him, he'll settle down. Deal."

Two hours later I brought out dessert, coffee and tea. Edward tasted the cake. “Delicious, but not as delicious as your famous chocolate one."

He leaned forward. His eyes and expression registered gossip mode. Under the table, I kicked Lars. He rolled his eyes. Laura groaned but kept eating.

"So what do you think about our choir romance? Isn't it sweet?"

"Are you talking about Beth and Roger?"

"Who else? They look so sweet together. Wouldn't it be absolutely perfect if they got married. Then he'd be sure to stay."

Lars and I exchanged a glance. I coughed to keep from laughing. Laura gestured toward the bedroom. “Release the cat,” she mouthed. I shook my head. Robespierre or not, Edward would persist in sharing his views.

"What makes you think there's a romance?"

"One only has to look at them when they're together,” Edward said.

"And that'll make him stay here?"

"Why not? Beth has an excellent position at the hospital and her sweet son likes school. She'll never move."

"I'm not sure that's true.” What I wasn't sure of was that this was a viable couple. “If she owned her house, I'd say you were right. Still, what's to keep him here when the city's so close. He'd be a hit on the concert circuit."

Edward groaned. “Please don't say that. We need him here. When the Bishop comes for confirmation, we'll be the envy of all the churches."