Murder for Choir (23 page)

Careful not to trip on debris, I hurried down the hall, looking into rooms as I passed. Larry wasn’t in any of them. By the time I got to the bedroom, one thing was clear. Larry was gone, and given the large streak of blood on the bed, I was guessing he didn’t go willingly.

Nausea sliced through my stomach. The white sheets and blue comforter I’d smoothed and tucked last night were bunched at the end of the bed. The white pillow I last saw Larry snoring on had a dark bloodstain in the center. The fitted sheet showed drips of the same dark stain in several spots. I thought I saw drops of blood on the floor, too, but it was hard to tell with the dresser drawers overturned and Larry’s other belongings ransacked.

Fingers shaking, I pulled out my phone and dialed Detective Kaiser’s number.

“Yeah?” Mike sounded grumpy. He got grumpier the minute I told him where I was and where Larry wasn’t. “Go outside and wait for me. Don’t touch anything. I don’t want you disturbing the scene any more than you have. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Putting the phone back in my pocket, I started to leave, then noticed the overturned sock drawer. Okay. Detective Mike told me not to touch anything, but he didn’t know
about the audiotape. If someone had taken the tape, Detective Mike would never know about it unless I told him.

Feeling morally bound to snoop, I sifted through the socks one by one, looking for the tape. Nothing. I looked under a few shirts and a couple pairs of pants. The tape, like Larry, was missing.

My watch told me the cops would be pulling up any minute. I hightailed it down the hall to the living room and grabbed the doughnut boxes.

“What the hell happened to this place?”

The boxes went flying as I jumped and spun around. Devlyn laughed. Then he took one look at my freaked-out face, and his laughter faded.

“What’s wrong?”

“The house was like this when I arrived, and Larry is gone.” My breath caught in my throat as I explained about the blood and the missing tape. “I’ve called Detective Kaiser. He wants us to wait outside.”

Devlyn looked stunned. He gave me a quick hug and reached down to pick up the battered doughnut boxes. I grabbed the tray of coffees, and we went outside to wait for the cavalry.

Detective Kaiser arrived a few minutes later. Judging by the five o’clock shadow, the barely combed hair, and the mismatched black and brown shoes, he’d been in bed when I called. A part of me wondered whether he’d been alone or if his date had forgiven last night’s cancellation. If last night hadn’t warned her off, this morning’s wake-up call should have done the trick.

The detective stalked toward us with a frown. “You didn’t say Mr. O’Shea was here.”

“You didn’t ask,” I shot back, feeling testy. Then I admitted, “He wasn’t here when I called you. We arranged to meet
here at seven, but Devlyn was a little late.” More like a lot late—which just occurred to me. I wondered why.

Devlyn opened a box of doughnuts and held the box out toward Detective Mike. The detective raised an eyebrow. I would, too. The doughnuts inside were a disaster. Chocolate frosting and sprinkles coated the box lid. Several of the donuts resembled miniature Frisbees.

The detective must have been hungry. He grabbed one of the Frisbees and took a bite. Swallowing, he said, “Wait here.” Then he disappeared inside. My stomach growled. Devlyn swung the box of mangled doughnuts toward me. I shook my head. A smear of raspberry filling made a couple of the doughnuts look like they belonged in a trauma ward. After seeing the bloodstains in Larry’s room, the disemboweled pastries disturbed me.

I sipped at my lukewarm latte and looked down at my black sneakers, trying to ignore the guilt creeping up my spine. Larry shouldn’t be missing. Had I called the cops last night like Devlyn wanted to, Larry would now be cooling his heels in a room at the Prospect Glen Police Department instead of being injured. Maybe worse.

“This isn’t your fault.”

I sniffled and looked up at Devlyn. “Are you psychic now?”

“You look like you’re standing on a ledge looking down.” He sat down on the concrete driveway and patted the ground next to him. “Have a seat before you throw yourself off the curb.”

I planted my butt on the ground, and Devlyn put his arm around me. We sat there saying nothing, probably because there wasn’t anything we could say. Larry was gone.

“Mr. O’Shea.” Devlyn and I turned to watch Detective
Kaiser trot out of the house and toward us. His expression was unreadable as he pulled a notebook out of his back pocket. “Could you step over here for a minute please?”

Devlyn gave me another quick hug and got to his feet. A minute later the two men were huddled under a tree by the side of the house, leaving me alone with my guilt and a box of doughnuts. I broke off a piece of chocolate cake doughnut and popped it into my mouth. Huh. Not bad. The glazed and the bear claw weren’t bad, either. By the time Devlyn and Detective Kaiser were done chatting, my guilt was making me feel decidedly ill. Or maybe it was the five doughnuts I’d just eaten. It was hard to tell.

“Your turn, Ms. Marshall.” Detective Kaiser smiled, but his eyes were anything but happy. He crooked his finger, and I swallowed hard as the doughnuts threatened to make a reappearance.

Devlyn gave me a peck on the cheek and whispered, “I didn’t mention the pitch pipe. That’s up to you. Give me a call when you’re done.” Then, grabbing the full box of doughnuts, he headed to his car and drove away.

The detective leaned against Larry’s car and asked, “What did Mr. O’Shea say to you just now?”

I considered lying and decided against it just in case the eyebrow thing was true. Instead, I went with option B: a half-truth. “He told me to call him when I was done talking to you.” I scrambled to my feet and asked, “What do you think happened to Larry?”

Detective Kaiser pushed away from the car. “That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell me. The house is a wreck, but there’s nothing to say Larry didn’t destroy the place himself before leaving.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t think he did. But right now I don’t have proof that a crime took place.” He smiled. “That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” I fought the urge to study the ground.

“Yeah. You.”

We looked at each other as the seconds ticked by. Finally, I said, “I think whoever tossed Larry’s house was the same person who called in the anonymous tip about his car.”

“Why would you think that?”

I sighed. Aunt Millie would probably spring for my bail. “When I was getting paper out of Larry’s car, I found a pitch pipe wedged deep in between the seats. Then the neighbor showed up, and I forgot to put it back where I found it. I think someone wanted the police to find the pitch pipe. When you didn’t, they came here looking for it.” I braced myself for lots of yelling.

“Where is the pitch pipe now?”

I was impressed. Detective Kaiser’s jaw was clenched and his eyes looked ready to pop, but his voice was low and calm. I unzipped my purse, pulled out the object in question, and dropped it into his hand. “I didn’t think it was important until after you left last night. That’s when I took a closer look and saw the inscription. That pitch pipe belonged to Greg Lucas, and I’m pretty sure I saw him with it the afternoon before he died.”

Detective Kaiser’s right eye began to twitch as he examined the object in his hands. He held the pitch pipe closer to his face to read the inscription. “You do realize I could arrest you for this, right?”

My heart skipped several beats, and I sucked in air as I waited for him to pull out the handcuffs.

Instead, he shook his head and asked, “Is there anything else I should know about?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. If purloining evidence hadn’t gotten me arrested, I figured I was safe. “When I was straightening up Larry’s bedroom last night, I ran across a cassette tape stashed in the back of his sock drawer. I tried to find it this morning, but it was gone.”

“Did you listen to the tape?”

I nodded. “Greg and Larry were in an a cappella group in college. I’m pretty sure that was the group on the recording.” Now that I had started spilling my guts, I couldn’t stop. I told Detective Kaiser about Greg stealing Larry’s music and passing it off as his own. I also mentioned Larry’s financial problems.

When I was done with my recitation, I let out a sigh of relief. Then I looked at Detective Kaiser’s face. His eyes were closed. His hands were clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white, and he was taking slow, deep breaths. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. His eyes snapped open. “What the hell were you thinking?”

I took a step back. “I was trying to help.”

“Help?” He half laughed, half yelled. “I don’t need this kind of help. I know how to do my job.”

A smart person would have agreed, taken her doughnuts, and gone home. For some reason, I was adverse to being that smart. Taking a step forward, I said, “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t know that Greg stole Larry’s music when they were in college or that the tape that was in Larry’s house has been stolen.”

“I still don’t
know
any of that. In my line of work, proof is a requirement. You telling me it’s true doesn’t mean jack.”

“Jim Waldorf will tell you exactly what he told me. I can call him and set up a meeting.” I reached for my phone. Jim would be happy for an excuse to escape Whac-A-Mole emergencies.

“You’re not going to call anyone. You are going to get in your car and drive back to your aunt’s house and stay there.” Detective Kaiser shoved the pitch pipe in his pocket, grabbed my arm, and started walking toward my Cobalt.

I couldn’t sit around doing nothing. My conscience wouldn’t let me. I put on the brakes. “What about the tape? I can help you look for it. I promise I won’t cause any trouble.”

“You won’t cause any trouble?” His mouth twitched. Then he started to laugh. “Paige, you’ve been nothing but trouble since the minute I laid eyes on you. I should have my head examined for not arresting you, let alone doing this.”

His hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close. Then he kissed me. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours I had no idea how to react. Detective Kaiser’s mouth slanted over mine, demanding I get involved. It was hard not to. The man knew how to kiss. His mouth was hard and hot and a little bit teasing, and bubbles of excitement popped inside my stomach as my knees went weak.

I dropped the doughnut box to the ground and grabbed on to his shoulders. His hand ran down my back and my body hummed as he nudged me toward my car and pinned me against the driver’s door. Yowzah. I could feel the handcuffs clipped to his belt. Suddenly, the idea of using them had a definite appeal. The smell of soap and aftershave was a major turn-on as I ran my hands through his thick, curly hair. His hands traveled down my hips. Finally, he pulled his head back.

We were both breathing hard as we stared at each other.

“What was that?” If my screwing around with his case turned him on, I wondered what turned him off.

“That was me losing my mind.” His voice was gruff and annoyed, but he didn’t back away.

“So now what do we do?”

He sighed and tucked a lock of blonde hair behind my ear. “We forget it happened. You’re a witness in one of my cases.”

“There’s a rule against kissing witnesses?”

“There’s a moral boundary that shouldn’t be crossed. I just crossed it, and I couldn’t be sorrier.”

Disappointment laced with anger sliced through me. I ducked under his arm and put some distance between us. “But making out with one woman while you’re dating another is morally permissible?” Getting the brush-off after being kissed pissed me off. I was being dramatically girly and a bit hypersensitive seeing as how I kissed him back even though I knew he’d been on a date, but I didn’t care.

“I’m not dating anyone else.” He shifted his weight and tugged at his right ear. He might as well have danced the tarantella with a sign that read
LIAR, LIAR PANTS ON FIRE
painted on his back.

“What about the girl from last night, Detective?”

“My name is Mike.” He coughed and straightened his shoulders. “It was a first date that turned out to be a last date, which isn’t really any of your business. Look, this conversation isn’t getting us anywhere. I’m sorry I kissed you, and I promise it won’t happen again. A man is dead, and my primary suspect is missing. I need to focus.”

Mike turned on his heel, stepped on one of the fallen doughnuts, and stalked back toward the house, leaving a trail of powdered sugar in his wake. I hated that I couldn’t help noticing how well his butt filled out his jeans as he walked. Damn him.

I got back in my car and steered over to Millie’s. My anger grew with each passing block. How dare Mike lie to me and then insinuate I was the reason he couldn’t focus well enough to catch a killer? I was willing to take the blame
for the whole pitch pipe debacle, but the rest wasn’t my fault. As far as I was concerned, Detective Michael Kaiser had screwed this case up on his own by going after Eric. Between Devlyn’s strange good-night kiss last night and Mike’s fabulous but totally infuriating kiss today, I was ready to completely swear off men. Aunt Millie would just have to cope.