Murder for Choir (10 page)

My aunt was nowhere to be found when I arrived home. I grabbed a soda, stretched out my aching dance muscles, and went to veg out in front of the television in the living room. The two stuffed pugs were seated in front of the TV as though waiting for me to turn it on. I had three choices: watch television with Bonnie and Clyde, relocate the critters, or go to bed. After the week I’d had, moving dead bodies—even stuffed, furry ones—wasn’t appealing.

Turning on my heel, I trekked upstairs to my bedroom, thinking about what I’d learned tonight. Lots of people disliked Greg Lucas. At least one of those people had tried to hit him with a car, and another threatened to strangle him. I was pretty sure Detective Mike knew about the first one, but Greg hadn’t pressed charges on the second.

I pulled out the card Detective Mike had given me and dialed. Voice mail. “Hi, Detective. I was just wondering if you had heard that North Shore High School’s football coach
threatened to kill Greg Lucas. If not, you might want to look into it. Have a good night.”

I hung up and got into my pajamas. It was only ten o’clock. Feeling like a loser with no life, I climbed into bed and went to sleep.

I jolted awake as something cold and wet touched the back of my neck. My eyes flew open, and I squeaked out a scream as I hurdled out of bed toward the light switch.

Light poured into the room. From the middle of the queen-sized bed, Killer raised his fluffy white head and blinked at me.

“Out.” I pointed to the door.

Killer whined and put his head down on the bed.

“I mean it.”

Killer roller over and put his paws up in the air. Had this been another dog, I would have been charmed into giving up half my bed. But this was a dog that pushed me down stairs and growled when I tried to pet him. I wasn’t about to be lulled into a false sense of security.

“I’ll be back,” I told Killer as I headed out the door and down the hall to Aunt Millie’s room. Aunt Millie had a special dog bed in her room for Killer. It was white and pink with a canopy. As far as I knew, Killer had never missed a night sleeping in that silly bed. Maybe Millie had closed the door by accident, leaving Killer stranded on the other side.

Nope. The door was half opened. Aunt Millie’s snoring hit me the minute I poked my head in. Killer’s bed sat waiting for him in the corner. Standing guard next to the bed was Romeo, the former champion border collie.

I tiptoed back to my room and looked at Killer, who had moved to the left of the bed, making more room for me. He whined again.

“Okay.” I turned off the light and climbed back into bed. “You can stay. But remember one thing—I bite back.”

Aunt Millie kept the air-conditioning set at an arctic sixty-four degrees, and Killer hogged the covers. The combo made me wake up shivering more than once, which meant I was bleary-eyed the next morning. I was also sore and bruised. Dancing, falling, and yoga had taken their toll.

After a muscle-soothing shower, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a turquoise tank. The jeans weren’t very summery, but they hid the enormous black and blue mark spreading across my left leg. By the time I walked into the school’s field house, I’d had enough caffeine to feel almost normal.

The number of kids present was a third of what had been here Monday through Wednesday. Not surprising. With a microphone-wielding murderer still on the loose, I’d keep my kid home, too.

I spotted Felicia and Larry at the back of the field house along with some of the other directors. Trying not to limp, I walked over to join them. Eric, Chessie, and a couple of my other students were clustered twenty feet away. I smiled at Eric. I considered his not being in jail a good sign.

Standing in between Larry and Felicia, I looked around the group. Nobody looked happy. “What’s going on?”

Larry frowned. “We’re discussing whether Eric Metz should be allowed to participate today.”

“I thought we settled this discussion yesterday.”

“We did,” Felicia said in dramatic whisper. “Not everyone agrees with us.”

The directors all started talking at once. It was hard to keep track of what each of them said, but the message was clear. They were determined. Eric had to go.

“Hey,” I yelled. One of the perks of being a professionally
trained opera singer is the ability to project my voice. When I want to, I can be very loud. Today, I had serious motivation to scream like a banshee. I firmly believed Eric was innocent. He was also the key to my success as a director. He was going to stay.

The directors all turned toward me, and I lowered my voice to a more reasonable level. “The police haven’t arrested Eric because he’s not the
only
suspect in this case. I’ve talked to the lead detective, and he’s pursing several other suspects.”

“Really?” Felicia’s eyes widened. “Do you know who?”

Casper. The Ghost of Christmas Past. The Loch Ness Monster.

I smiled. “I have no idea. You’ll have to ask him.” Felicia frowned. The rest of the directors looked confused. “Look, Greg was alone when he was murdered. Don’t you think everyone will be safe if we stay in one large group?”

They all looked at one another. When no one objected, Larry clapped his hands together and said, “Okay. Since today is only going to be two hours, I suggest we get to work.”

Larry went over to break the good news to Eric and company. The rest of the directors went to find their students, leaving me alone with Felicia.

She grabbed my arm and whispered, “Who are the police investigating? It’s Larry, isn’t it? He’s been acting really strange the past two days. Almost as if he’s in a fog. I bet the guilt is eating him alive.”

Felicia looked like most people I see reading the
National Enquirer
, equal parts delighted and horrified. I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know who the police are looking at. Detective Kaiser said he couldn’t share the details of his investigation.” Felicia looked skeptical, and I almost said, “Cross
my heart and hope to die.” Being back in high school made me want to regress.

Thank goodness a director yelled over the microphone for the kids to take the floor before Felicia could grill me any further. I dumped my bag on one of the bleachers as music began to pump through the loudspeaker. It was time to sing and dance.

A little over an hour later, the kids had executed hundreds of jazz squares to hits like “Don’t Stop Believin’,” “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” and “Jump, Jive an’ Wail” while the parents sitting in the stands cheered them on. I’d liked those songs well enough before camp started this week. If I never heard them again after this, I wouldn’t be sorry.

Still sweating and panting, the kids were asked to take a seat in the stands so we could talk to them about what had happened to Mr. Lucas. This was supposed to provide “closure.” It also lent itself to bored expressions and a lot of texting. Both had nothing to do with the subject matter and more with the presentation. The director doing the talking made murder as exciting as watching paint dry. A neat trick.

When the guy was done, the kids milled around the field house saying their good-byes before heading for the door. I walked over to the far left corner, where Eric was changing his shoes.

“How are you holding up?”

Eric looked up at me and smiled. “Better than the last time you saw me.”

Cheesy show choir tunes beat jail any day.

“Did your parents come home?”

“They got into town this morning. Detective Kaiser said I have to be at the station this afternoon ready to talk.” He tucked his thumbs into his jeans pockets and struck an
uncaring pose. Too bad his eyes gave him away. My heart went out to him. The kid was terrified.

“It sucks you have to go through this. Just so you know, I’ve been asking around. Mr. Lucas upset a lot of people, and Detective Kaiser is aware of that.”

Eric swallowed hard. “I hope you’re right.”

“Eric, are you ready to go?” Chessie sashayed up to Eric and put a possessive hand on his arm. “My mom will freak if I’m not home on time. She thinks the boogeyman is going to get me.”

I smiled at her. “Your dancing looked very polished, Chessie.”

Her eyes flicked over to me. “Gee, thanks. That means a whole lot coming from someone like you.” The sarcastic tone said the opposite. “Come on, Eric.” Hoisting her pink dance bag onto her shoulder, Chessie strutted toward the exit, not even glancing back to see whether Eric was following. More than likely, he always did.

Eric looked down at his shoes. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m getting the feeling Chessie doesn’t like me.”

“It’s not that she doesn’t like you,” he hurried to reassure me. “She said you were really cool to go to bat with the cops for me. It’s just—”

“What?”

“Well, she wants a coach who can help us win. Sorry.” Eric grabbed his gym bag and trudged after Chessie.

“Kids can be a tough crowd to win over.” Devlyn’s voice reached over my shoulder. I turned, and he smiled. “Don’t worry. Once your choir sees the moves we’re working on, they’ll love you. Trust me.”

“Chessie Bock hates me.”

“She hates losing. There’s a difference.” He sat down on the ground and crossed his legs. Today Devlyn was wearing a
lime-green-and-yellow shirt and light blue jeans. He patted the space on the floor next to him, and I planted my butt on the ground. “Paige, you have a lot to learn about teenagers, but you’ve come to the right place.”

“High school?”

“Me.” He grinned. “I’ve been teaching them for twelve years. I’ve learned that once you win their trust, they will walk off a cliff for you. Until then, you just have to keep trying. You’ve already got them halfway by helping Eric. It won’t take a lot to push them over to your side.”

“Like proving he’s innocent?”

Devlyn let out a deep, sexy laugh. “That would probably do it. But just in case you aren’t the next Sherlock Holmes, we should probably polish Plan B. What do you think?” He hopped to his feet and held out a hand.

I really wanted to go home to Aunt Millie’s and climb back into bed. Instead, I took Devlyn’s hand and let him hoist me to my feet. “Let’s do it.”

It took me a minute to figure out where I’d stashed my bag. We were halfway to the choir room when we heard a singsong voice call out, “Devlyn, wait up.” The clip-clop of high heels and the high-pitched perky voice announced Felicia’s presence before the rest of her appeared around the corner. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to avoid me.” Felicia waited for Devlyn to deny it. He just gave her a mysterious half smile. Undeterred, she continued, “I talked to Richard this morning, and he said you haven’t called him. Don’t put it off too long. Someone else will snap him up.”

“Then I’ll be happy Richard is happy.” Devlyn perched a hand on his hip and let out a huge sigh. “Actually, I met someone interesting yesterday, and you know me. I’m a one-love-interest-at-a-time kind of guy.”

“I wish more men had that problem. In my experience it seems to be the more the merrier.”

Devlyn put his arm around her and squeezed. “Honey, you deserve better than that.”

Felicia sighed. “You have no idea how long it took for me to figure that out. Ah well. Tell your new man he’s a lucky guy. I have costumes to sew. Bye.”

Once she was gone, it was time to get to work. We danced through everything we’d already choreographed, made a few changes, and finally got to the big finish. Yesterday, that involved me mopping the floor with my butt. I wasn’t inclined to repeat the experience.

“We need a lift at the end,” Devlyn insisted.

I tried to ignore how sexy his damp hair looked. “Breaking bones is not going to help me win over the kids.”

“The lift isn’t that hard. We just had a minor mishap. New partners have an adjustment period. Yesterday was ours.”

“You call falling on my behind an adjustment?”

He pushed a lock of dark hair off his forehead and flashed a wide grin. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I call it. Are you ready to try it again? If I drop you, I promise this time I’ll break your fall.”

Devlyn’s smile was flirty and teasing. Thank God he was gay or womankind would be in serious trouble. I was going to cave, but not without getting something I wanted. “I’ll do it on one condition. You tell me why you listed yourself as a suspect in Greg’s murder.”

He chuckled. When I didn’t, he stopped laughing. “Are you serious?” I waited. Finally, he blew out air and said, “Okay. Greg and I didn’t have the best relationship. I thought his directing style was a little too focused on the girls.”

“He hit on them?” My stomach clenched. I already knew Greg hit on Chessie, but hearing it was still a shock.

“Technically, he never crossed that line. At least not in public.” Devlyn clenched his jaw. “He was always showing the kid playing Tony how to hold Maria. I called him on it after rehearsal one day. He denied it and decked me. The next day he acted as though we’d never had that conversation.”

“Did he leave the girl alone?”

Devlyn’s face was grim. “He did, which annoyed the hell out of her. She looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out.”

“The girl wanted the attention?” I never knew when a guy was hitting on me, so I assumed the girl was comparably oblivious.

Devlyn barked out a bitter laugh. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but lots of teenage girls think they want that kind of attention. They wear sexy clothes, ask for individual practice sessions, and text ‘thank you’ messages. I’m sure Greg got more than his fair share of messages telling him how much they owed him for his hard work.”

Things had changed a lot since I was in high school. Or maybe they hadn’t, and I just never noticed. Both thoughts were more than a little disturbing.

“Why didn’t you report Greg?”

“Rehearsals were public. Lots of people were watching, and no one else reported it for the same reason I didn’t. I might have been wrong. A report of that kind of behavior is the kiss of death for a teacher’s career. I’ve known more than one teacher who was falsely accused, proved he didn’t do it, and still couldn’t get another teaching job.”

Scary. “So your confrontation with Greg is the reason you could be a suspect?”