Huh. Whatever I’d expected Ruth to say, that wasn’t it. I sat on the edge of the sofa and cautiously said, “There was a question I needed answered. Nora answered it for me.”
“Nora told me that you implied her husband was behind David’s and Bill’s murders.”
Nora had a big mouth. “Someone attacked me last night. The police believe the attacker was involved with our show. So I asked a couple of questions to make sure I’d be safe when I attended tonight’s rehearsal.”
Ruth’s nostrils flared again. “So Nora wasn’t wrong. You do think Mark is a killer.”
The nasty edge to her voice had me scooting farther down the couch. “I think someone has sent me threatening messages, almost run me off the road, and given me a mild concussion. If I knew who it was, I’d have the cops arrest them. It could be Mark. Or maybe it’s Vanessa or Jonathan or Maestro Tebar. It might even be you.”
“Me?” Ruth’s anger had been replaced by confusion. “What reason would I have to threaten you?”
“Whoever killed David and Bill is working to cover their tracks. I guess he or she thinks I know something that might lead the police to arrest them.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
I wanted to believe Ruth’s baffled reaction was an act, but my intuition told me it wasn’t. Ruth was genuinely perplexed, which shot my Mark/Ruth tandem killer theory—not to mention my investigative instincts—to hell.
I shifted on the couch and eased my hand out of my coat pocket. “Two people were involved in the attack against me last night. That means the murders were committed by two people working together. You and Mark looked pretty friendly when you came into the bar together on Wednesday night.”
Ruth’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “Nora and I are second cousins. She met Mark at a concert that Mark and I were both performing in.”
“Do the police know you and Mark are related?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t see a point in telling them, but I assume they must. Detective Frewen seems competent. Of course, they haven’t arrested anyone yet, so I might be overstating that. Nora is going to be a wreck until they lock away the killer.”
“Because she thinks her husband might be involved in the murders?”
Ruth’s expression told me my instincts might not be so far off target after all. “Nora thinks the stress of his work at the university has made Mark a bit edgier than normal.”
“By work stress, you mean the problems he had with David Richard?” I asked. “I heard Mark was working to keep Northwestern from offering David a full-time position.”
“Mark took an immediate dislike to David, which is understandable. Almost everyone disliked David.”
“Including you.”
“My dislike was based more on principle than personal knowledge.” Ruth shrugged. “Until this week I’d never met the man.”
“But you threatened to pull out of the show when they offered David the tenor soloist role.”
“I know. And that little stunt is why the police have me on their suspect list.” She sighed and swiped a hand through her auburn hair. “Personally, I couldn’t have cared less about David Richard being a part of this show, but Mark did. He thought if enough pressure were put on the producers they’d ask another tenor to take David’s place. Since this production is being performed on Northwestern’s campus, the dean of the music department would notice the casting change and perhaps rethink offering David a full-time faculty position. Mark asked me to talk to the producers, which I did, but he overestimated my clout. I’m one of the best violinists in the country, but next to a vocalist like David Richard—well, let’s just say if the producers had to make a choice it wouldn’t have been me.”
Ouch. “Why did Mark have it in for David?”
Ruth frowned. “At first, Mark was annoyed with the way David canceled lessons and talked down to the students. He ranted a lot about David being a terrible educator. I thought it was typical university politics and didn’t pay much attention until Nora told me about the fight. Mark isn’t the type to use his fists. Something must have set him off.”
“I heard that David hit on Nora and that was the reason Mark started the fight.”
“David did make a pass at Nora, but according to her that had happened weeks before. To be honest, I don’t think Nora knows what prompted Mark to hit David. Mark doesn’t usually keep secrets, which is why she’s concerned.” Ruth straightened her shoulders. “But whatever Mark’s secrets, both Nora and I know he isn’t behind these murders. He’s not the type.”
I had to ask, “What type is he?”
“He’s the type who’d throw himself in front of a bus to protect his family and his students.” Ruth smiled. “I think he might even do the same for me.” She frowned at her watch and stood. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to practice a bit more before tonight’s rehearsal.”
I glanced at my own watch. Eek. It was really late. If I left now, I’d have just enough time to get home and grab my stuff before heading to rehearsal. If I was lucky, Devlyn would drive fast enough for me to have time to eat dinner.
I filled Devlyn in on the conversation as he pointed the car toward home. When I was done, he asked, “Do you still think Mark’s one of the killers?”
I bit my lip and considered the question. Ruth thought her summation of Mark’s personality vindicated him. I was more inclined to believe those same traits contributed to motive. Something had happened during David’s time at Northwestern to make Mark’s feelings go from annoyance to anger. I was betting whatever had outraged Mark into a public fistfight was the same thing that had gotten David Richard and Bill Walters killed. Of course, for that to do me any good, I needed to discover what that something was.
Snow started to fall as Devlyn pulled up in front of Millie’s house. He gave me a short but sizzling kiss that kept me warm as I ran with my shopping bags from the car to the front door. My stomach growled as I stepped into the house. The aroma of garlic, basil, and tomato filled the air. Aldo was making pasta. There was a God.
I raced upstairs, stashed the gifts in my closet, and spotted a note sitting on the bed. Millie’s friend Gayle had called with the names of three jewelry stores who used potassium cyanide. One was located only two blocks away from the Northwestern University campus. Huh. Promising myself I’d check the stores out tomorrow, I hurried downstairs into the kitchen on a quest to mooch some garlic bread and almost plowed into Mike.
“Your car wasn’t in the driveway,” I said.
Mike’s smile was anything but happy. “I parked on the street. I didn’t want to block the garage.”
“He’s a nice boy.” Aldo beamed as he stirred a bubbling pot of red sauce. “Detective Michael came to see you. When you were not here, he stayed and helped plan the perfect proposal for my Millie.”
Uh-oh. Getting Millie to say “yes” was going to require finesse and romance. Those weren’t exactly Mike’s strengths. He was more the do-as-I-say-and-like-it kind of dude. If Aldo went with Mike’s suggestions, things were going to go downhill—fast.
Before I could ask what Mike’s idea of the perfect proposal was, Mike said, “Imagine my surprise when I dropped by and didn’t find you at home. You told me you were going to stay put.”
Yep—definitely upset I didn’t do exactly as he said. “Something came up.”
“Did that something have to do with the box delivered today?”
If I said yes, Mike would go through the roof. If I said no, I’d feel like a schmuck for lying. Neither option was appealing, so I went with door number three. “I needed to do some shopping. Since you didn’t want me to go out alone, I took Devlyn with me.”
Mike’s hands clenched and unclenched and the vein on his neck began to pulsate. So much for door number three. Grabbing a piece of bread off a cookie sheet, I motioned for Mike to follow me int
o the living room. With proposal planning, Aldo had enough excitement in his life.
I glanced at my watch. I didn’t have much time to argue with Mike. Not if I wanted to make my rehearsal call time. Before Mike could start yelling, I planted a hand on my hip and said, “I planned to follow your suggestion, but then the box arrived. The thought of Aunt Millie or Aldo opening it wigged me out. I needed to do something. You were busy, so I went on a wild-goose chase to see if I could find the store where the doll in the box was purchased. The only thing I got for my efforts was a headache and a couple of Christmas gifts crossed off my list.”
Mike’s mouth twitched. “You canvassed toy stores less than two weeks before Christmas?”
I nodded and took a bite of garlic bread.
“While I’d like nothing better than to yell at you for taking an unnecessary risk, I’ve been shopping at a toy store this week and I know what a nightmare that is. You’ve been punished enough. Although I think I’ve earned this, since I gained at least a dozen gray hairs worrying about you.”
Mike walked over and I waited for the kiss I was sure was coming. Not that I wanted him to kiss me, but . . . Mike reached out, snatched my bread, and took a bite. Disappointment snaked through me as I realized he wanted my food—not me. How twisted was that? I needed to get a grip.
Trying not to let Mike see that I was unnerved, I checked my watch and yelped. Whenever possible, I tried to get to the theater ten minutes before call time to give myself time to feel settled. Tonight I was going to be cutting that close. It was time to make tracks.
“Let me get the box for you before I leave.”
Mike stopped chewing. “You’re going out . . . alone?”
Exasperated, I walked down the hall to the kitchen. “I have to go out. Tonight’s our final rehearsal.”
“If the killer is part of the show, he or she will be there.”
My gut twisted even as I explained, “A hundred other singers, instrumentalists, and crew will be there, too. Not to mention members of the Evanston Police Department.” As long as I didn’t allow my water bottle out of my sight or wander off alone for Mark or his accomplice to find me, I would be fine.
“I promise I’ll have my phone ready to dial 911 at the sign of any trouble.” I’d also have Millie’s gun handy, but Mike didn’t need to know that.
Aldo was draining pasta as we walked back into the kitchen. He assured me dinner would be ready in minutes. Too bad I didn’t have time to eat it.
I grabbed the FedEx box off the top of the fridge and handed it to Mike. “I want to perform in the show this weekend. That means I have to go to rehearsal tonight.”
Mike flipped the lid on the box and frowned at the contents. While he read the note, I shoved another piece of garlic bread in my mouth, shrugged into my winter gear, and grabbed my bag.
“You need to eat dinner.” Aldo waved his wooden spoon at me.
I gave him an apologetic smile. “Tell Aunt Millie not to eat it all so I can have some later.” Before Mike could protest, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, opened the garage door, and ran out yelling, “Gotta run.”
Snow was falling harder as I steered my car onto the street. The roads were slick, but traffic was moving. I finished my bread, drank some water, and periodically checked the rearview mirror for the silver car that had run me off the road. After I swallowed the last of the bread, I started to sing through some warm-ups.
Singing in the car wasn’t the ideal way to prepare for tonight’s rehearsal, but I didn’t have time for much else. Besides, singing helped keep my mind off the churning in my gut. Part of it was the adrenaline rush that came with performing. The other part was fear.
Mike was right. Even with the crowd of performers and Detective Frewen and company in attendance, going to the theater tonight was a risk. But if I wanted a shot in this business, it was a risk I had to take.
Sitting at a red light, I glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. I turned my head to get a better look and saw the person in the car behind me wave. Mike.
I put my phone on speaker and hit speed dial as the light turned green. “How did you get behind me?”
“I followed you.”
“No, you didn’t.” If he had, I would have noticed. “How did you find me?”
Mike laughed. “I picked you up about a block back. This is the most direct route to the theater. I knew where you were going, so I took a chance.”
Good to know I hadn’t missed someone tailing me the entire time. That would have been disconcerting.
“And you’re following me, why?” I asked.
“I called Detective Frewen. He confirmed he’ll be at tonight’s rehearsal.”
“You didn’t have to tail me to tell me that.”
“You didn’t think I was going to let the woman I might be in love with park God only knows how many blocks away and walk all alone into the theater, did you?”
Did I want him to act like my bodyguard? No. But I couldn’t help the shiver of pleasure that ran up my spine. Huh. Something to think about another time.
“You aren’t planning on coming into the theater, are you?” Tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome, Mike would draw attention, which was the last thing I wanted.
“I plan on escorting you to the door. Frewen and his team will take over once you’re inside.”
I hung up and steered my car up and down the streets, looking for a parking spot. I was delighted to find street parking less than a block and a half away. Mike turned on his cop lights and waited as I collected my stuff and got out of the car. The passenger door of the squad car opened, and Mike motioned for me to get in. I was about to turn down the lift on principle, but the snow and wind had picked up. Freezing my butt off for the sake of proving my independence would be stupid.
Mike smiled as I climbed into his Mustang. I waited for him to drive and then saw him eye my seat belt. Oy. It was a block and a half.
When we arrived at the stage door, I unclicked the belt as Mike’s hand grazed my cheek. I turned and his lips brushed mine in a light, feathery kiss that left me breathless.
“Have a great rehearsal,” he said. “Make sure you take care of yourself and—”
“I know.” I sighed. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Mike watched from the warmth of the Mustang as I navigated the slippery sidewalk. Pulling the heavy stage door open, I waved and ducked inside. The wind whipped the door shut behind me with a resounding bang.
Both the stage and work lights were on. Shaking off the snow, I wrote my initials next to my name on the call-board and saw that Jonathan, Vanessa, and about a dozen chorus members had already signed in. Normally, I liked having a few minutes alone, but all things considered I was relieved so many others were around.
I stepped out of the wings onto the brightly lit stage. No one was seated on the chairs, but I did see someone moving around the light booth. Probably Jenny or our lighting designer. I waved to whoever was up there and turned to go back into the wings. I heard the stage door open and crash shut. Another cast member had arrived.
I walked into the wings and felt my smile of greeting fade. No one was there. I glanced at the call-board. No one new had signed in.
Yep, I was officially creeped out.
My pulse picked up steam as I walked toward the greenroom stairs. By the time I’d reached the steps, I’d almost convinced myself that the person who just arrived had simply forgotten to sign in. It happened. Hell, I’d done it more than once in my career. Breathing easier, I put my hand on the staircase railing and stopped in my tracks as someone sneezed.
Chapter 22
My heart skipped and I held my breath as I waited for the sound to come again. Nothing, but I knew someone was close by. Someone who didn’t want to be seen. That couldn’t be good.
Achoo.
My fingers wr
apped around the hilt of Millie’s gun, and I considered my options. I could try to make it down the stairs to the greenroom. My feet itched to make a break for it, but doing so would leave my back exposed to whoever was up here. Running was a bad idea. Which left only one option.
“Who’s there?” I yelled as I fished my cell phone out of my pocket with my other hand.
Silence.
“Come out now or I’ll call the police.” As though to prove my point, I hit Mike’s number. I could call the Evanston PD, but the 911 dispatcher would want to ask me all sorts of questions. Questions I currently didn’t have time to answer. Mike would show up at the door with guns blazing first and ask questions later.
“I’m calling.”
More silence.
I put the phone up to my ear as Mike’s amused voice came on the line. “Did you forget something in my car?”
“I need you to come back to the theater,” I whispered. “It could be a false alarm, but I think there’s someone hiding backstage.”
All amusement disappeared. “Don’t hang up. I’ll be right there.”
I slid the phone into my pocket and listened again for sounds of whoever was lurking in the shadows. “The cops are on their way. You can come out now or they’ll drag you out. Your choice.”
Something shuffled to my left. The curtain rustled. I held my breath, pulled the gun out of my pocket, and waited.
The curtain shifted again and I almost dropped the gun when Chessie appeared, followed by a sneezing Eric. “What are the two of you doing here?”
Chessie and Eric looked at each other. Finally, Chessie said, “I wanted to see what a professional dress rehearsal looked like.”
I slid the gun back in my pocket and put a hand on my hip. “Really?”
Chessie nodded. Eric looked at the floor.
“Eric?”
His eyes rose to meet mine, and his cheeks turned bright red. “It was my idea to come tonight,” he confessed. “I was worried.”
Chessie elbowed Eric for ruining her cover and crossed her arms with a huff.
End Me a Tenor Page 22