Deadly Overtures: A Music Lover's Mystery

by Sarah Fox

  “Just stick close to other people,” I advised. “Then you’ll be fine.”

  I hoped that was true. But the only way to truly ensure Dongmei’s safety was to find definitive evidence against Ethan—or whoever the killer was—so the police could lock him away.

  “I need to talk to the maestro,” I said as I got up from the couch.

  Dongmei grabbed my arm, fear practically radiating off of her. “Don’t leave me alone.”

  “You’re not alone.” I gestured at all the musicians gathered in the lounge. “You’ve got all these people with you. And I’ll be back soon.”

  She let go of my arm with reluctance and I gave her what I hoped was a confident, reassuring smile.

  “Everything will be okay,” I said.

  As I left the lounge, I fervently hoped those words wouldn’t come back to haunt me.

  I DIDN’T FIND Hans out on the stage where JT had already set up the microphones, nor did I find him in the back hallways. Knowing that likely meant he was in his second-floor office, I headed up the carpeted stairway. At the top of the stairs I turned left, my destination the third door down. I didn’t end up going straight to Hans’s office, however, because the first room I passed drew my attention and brought me to a stop.

  The door stood open, revealing a room with a long table surrounded by numerous chairs. I knew it was the room the symphony’s board of directors used for meetings but, according to a sign taped to the door, it was currently being used as a lounge for the judges. A platter of fresh fruit sat in the middle of the table, with plates of other finger foods set out around it. Although I wouldn’t have minded a snack, the food wasn’t what caught my attention.

  The only person in the room was Ethan. Since he wasn’t a judge, his presence piqued my curiosity, especially since he was leaning over one corner of the table, clicking sounds emanating from his general location. When he turned his body a few degrees to the left, I realized that the clicking was coming from his phone as he snapped pictures of another cell phone lying on the tabletop. That sent my curiosity skyrocketing.

  He took a step back and I hurried out of view, resuming my journey down the hallway. Before I reached the door to Hans’s office, I glanced over my shoulder. Ethan was on his way out of the judges’ lounge, slipping his phone into his pocket. Pausing, he looked up and down the hallway and spotted me. I smiled at him, hoping I appeared completely natural and unsuspicious, but he only glowered in my direction before disappearing down the stairway. Once he was gone, a trickle of relief washed through me. Being in close proximity to someone I suspected of murder wasn’t exactly my idea of fun, especially when no one else was in sight.

  Alone in the hallway now, my eyes drifted back to the open door of the judges’ lounge. Tugging on my left earlobe, I wondered if I dared to do a little snooping. It only took me a second or two to decide.

  As quietly as I could, I hastened back to the judges’ lounge and slipped inside. Tiny sparks of excitement ran up my spine when I saw that the phone Ethan had been snapping pictures of still sat on the table. After a quick glance over my shoulder told me I was still alone, I picked up the device and brought the screen to life.

  There was no immediate indication of who owned the phone so I accessed the photos and scrolled through them. It only took a few pictures for me to conclude that the device belonged to Jeb Hartson. The selfies were a dead giveaway. Somehow it didn’t surprise me that he regularly took photos of himself. It also didn’t surprise me that Pavlina appeared in some of the photos, sometimes on her own and other times with Jeb, but that was only because I’d already known about their relationship.

  After scrolling past a few photos of Pavlina that could only be described as suggestive, I paused, wondering if the pictures were what had grabbed Ethan’s interest.

  It was very possible.

  But if he’d snapped pictures of these photos, why had he done so? Not for any good reason, that was for sure. Since Pavlina was already dead, he couldn’t use them to get her ousted from the competition, but maybe he was hoping to use them against Jeb. Maybe he was planning to blackmail the judge to secure his vote.

  That thought sent an icy chill through me. If he really was so devious, then that only made him an even better murder suspect. While being a blackmailer—if he really was one—didn’t automatically make Ethan a murderer, it did say a lot about his character and the level he was willing to sink to in order to improve his chances in the competition.

  The sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears and I spun around, my heartbeat upping its tempo. If Ethan was returning and he caught me snooping into what he’d been doing earlier, my life could be in danger. I hurriedly returned the cell phone to the table, but a shadow loomed in the doorway while my fingers still touched the device.

  “What are you doing?”

  The demanding voice didn’t belong to Ethan, but that didn’t calm my racing heart.

  Jeb stood a foot or two inside the room, his face devoid of its usual self-assured smile. His brown eyes drilled into me and I struggled to find my voice.

  “Nothing,” I managed to say in response to his question. “I noticed that someone had left their cell phone behind and I was trying to figure out who it belonged to.”

  Jeb stepped forward and snatched the phone off the table. “It’s mine. Did you mess with it?” His phony, drawling accent had disappeared completely.

  “No,” I lied as convincingly as I could. “I’d only picked it up when you arrived.”

  I held my breath, hoping he would believe me.

  “That had better be the truth.” He took a step closer to me and I had to force myself not to lean back. “I wouldn’t advise sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  I met his furious gaze with a steady one of my own, but a high-pitched note of alarm rang in my head and I couldn’t think clearly enough to come up with a retort.

  “Everything all right here?”

  Some of my tension whooshed out of me as Harold Dempsey stepped into the room, his eyes going from my face to Jeb’s.

  Two seconds ticked by before Jeb relaxed his stance and produced his typical grin.

  “Everything’s just fine,” he said, his drawl back in full force. “This young lady was returning my misplaced phone to me. Thank you for that,” he said to me.

  Although his words were courteous, a dangerous glint showed in his eyes when he focused on me.

  “You’re welcome,” I managed to say, even though every one of my nerves was practically screaming with tension.

  I edged around Jeb, and Harold stepped aside to clear my path to the door. With a nod at Harold, I left the room as calmly as I could. When I was out of sight in the hallway, my muscles went weak with relief. Getting a glimpse of Jeb’s dark side had alarmed me. I didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he’d caught me in the act of studying the photos on his phone. The situation had been tense enough already, and I was immensely grateful for the fact that Harold had arrived on the scene when he did. Although I’d received only harsh words and angry glares from Jeb, the encounter had left me certain that he was capable of much more.

  How much more was something I had no desire to find out from personal experience, but the question played over and over again in my head like a broken record. Ethan currently occupied the top spot on my list of suspects, but Jeb’s name was also on that list, and I now felt certain that he was fully capable of committing murder.

  Chapter Thirteen

  IT WASN’T UNTIL I was halfway down the stairs that I realized I’d forgotten to stop by Hans’s office. I continued down to the first floor anyway, deciding to speak with Hans another time. My nerves were too frazzled to go anywhere near the judges’ lounge, which I’d have to pass to reach the maestro’s office. On top of that, my thoughts were too scattered to hold a coherent conversation. If Hans knew anything
new about the police investigation, I could find out about that later. For the moment, I needed time to recover from my unsettling confrontation with Jeb, to calm down enough so I could focus on the concert.

  I managed to avoid any conversations beyond brief exchanges of greetings when I returned to the musicians’ lounge. Not wanting to linger, I retrieved my instrument and folder of music and made my way to the stage. Once I was seated in my usual spot, my shoulders relaxed and the whirlwind of thoughts in my head lost some of its vigor. I took comfort in the familiar surroundings, the stage like a second home to me.

  With every passing minute more of my fellow musicians joined me on the stage, and their presence comforted me further. I knew I was safe here among my colleagues, safe from Jeb and Ethan and anyone else who might have a dangerous dark side. I hoped Dongmei was as safe as I was, but I hadn’t seen her in the lounge when I fetched my violin from my locker. Ethan hadn’t been in the lounge either, and when I realized that, a flash of panic set my heart beating at a wild tempo once again. But then Olivia appeared in the wings with both Ethan and Dongmei at her side, Sasha hovering behind her as usual.

  Relief edged out my panic and I drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I rid myself of more of my remaining anxiety.

  “What’s wrong?” Mikayla asked as she sat down in the seat next to me.

  “Nothing.” I tried my best to smile as I set out the sheet music for Ethan’s symphony.

  When I glanced Mikayla’s way, she was still watching me, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

  I set my bow on the music stand’s ledge, realizing I’d need to provide her with some sort of explanation. “I guess I’m a bit on edge. It’s hard to relax when I suspect people around me of murder.”

  “Who do you suspect, exactly?” she asked, her skepticism morphing into curiosity.

  “Ethan and Jeb, for starters,” I said quietly so no one else around us could hear.

  Both of Mikayla’s eyebrows shot up this time. “Ethan I can see, since Pavlina was his competition and they obviously didn’t like each other, but Jeb Hartson?”

  “It’s a bit of a long story.”

  She waited expectantly, but almost the entire orchestra was now present on the stage and we were only moments from the start of the concert.

  “Later,” I whispered as I picked up my bow.

  She had no choice but to agree as a hush fell over the stage.

  Over the next couple of hours, the last remnants of my anxiety trickled away. I became completely absorbed in the finalists’ compositions, in the way the music from all the various instruments wove together to create something greater, something beautiful. Dongmei’s piece in particular drew me into its depths and caught me in its magic.

  The audience must have enjoyed the concert as much as I did. When it was over, they stood and applauded enthusiastically. I held my breath for a tense moment before Ethan and Dongmei were to appear on stage, but they emerged from the wings together a second later, much to my relief. The last thing we needed was to lose another finalist. Although I could tell that Dongmei was a bit nervous about being on stage in front of such a large audience, she still seemed to enjoy the moment, beaming as the audience once again applauded for her and Ethan.

  Once we’d all left the stage and had returned to the musicians’ lounge, I gave Dongmei a big hug.

  “I hope you win,” I whispered so only she would hear.

  She smiled at me. “Thank you, Midori. It’s been nice having you here. I’m less anxious when there’s a friendly face nearby.”

  I gave her another hug and she headed off to meet her family in the theater’s lobby. After a few minutes spent chatting with my colleagues, I pulled on my coat and gloves and left the theater. Out in the parking lot, JT was loading the last of the recording equipment—all accounted for this time—into his truck. I said a quick goodbye to him and set off for home.

  During the drive my thoughts slowly shifted from the successful concert to the mystery of Pavlina’s murder. More than ever I believed that Ethan’s character left plenty to be desired and that he was fully capable of devious behavior, including murder. Even so, I couldn’t forget the frightening glimpse I’d caught of Jeb’s dark side when he’d confronted me in the judges’ lounge. The mere memory caused a shudder to run through my body, and my grip tightened on the steering wheel. His fierce reaction to finding me with his phone could have stemmed from nothing more than the fact that he was desperate to keep his relationship with Pavlina a secret. But knowing that a much darker part of his personality lurked beneath his phony accent and self-assured attitude only made the phone conversation I’d overheard seem more sinister.

  He’d said that something was all taken care of and that no one suspected a thing. Of course, if he’d referred to killing Pavlina, that meant someone else knew he’d done the terrible deed. Who would he share that information with? Another lover? One who’d known about Pavlina and wanted her permanently out of the picture?

  The photos on Jeb’s phone hadn’t indicated that there was another woman in his life, but perhaps I simply hadn’t scrolled back far enough. I silently cursed the fact that I hadn’t had a chance to delve into his text messages. They could have held valuable clues.

  Stopping at a red light, I gave my head a shake. Jeb and Ethan both seemed so sinister and guilty, but I still couldn’t prove that either of them had killed Pavlina. And I didn’t know enough to discount any of my other suspects. Olivia, Sasha, Cameron, and Elena’s cousin Igor all needed more investigating.

  That reminded me of the fact that I hadn’t yet achieved what Hans had hoped I would. As long as Igor was still a suspect, and as long as nothing came to light to prove that Elena wasn’t in cahoots with him, the PGP was at risk of suffering from bad publicity and perhaps even the loss—temporarily or permanently—of our concertmaster.

  As I parked my car in the lot beneath my apartment building, I decided to come up with a plan in the morning, a plan that would help me make more sense of all the clues I’d gathered, that would allow me to uncover more information so I could finally put some pieces of the puzzle together and get at least a glimpse of the picture that would emerge.

  WHILE I WOULD have liked to laze around in bed the next morning, a dozen different thoughts chimed in my head as soon as I was awake, making relaxation impossible. With a sigh, I threw back the covers and hurried through my chilly apartment to the shower. While I shampooed my hair, I decided I’d check in with JT. The day before we’d only talked about Cameron and his potential involvement in the crimes, and I still wanted to share my thoughts on the other suspects with my friend. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too busy for me to hang out with him, but I’d find out soon enough.

  As I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, I hummed a few bars of music. It was only as I shut off the water and wrapped myself in a towel that I realized I was humming the melody of JT’s latest composition. I couldn’t wait to hear him play the song on the piano again, and I didn’t doubt that it would take my breath away just as it had the first time I’d heard it. I loved all of JT’s music, but that song really was the most amazing one I’d ever heard him play.

  Whenever I thought of JT’s successes I practically beamed with pride. He was such a talented musician and composer, and I was so happy that he was doing well in his career. Absolute Zero, the science fiction television show he composed music for, had been on the air for over two months now, and the ratings so far had been strong. If the show got renewed for a second season, that would be great for JT. As the show gained more popularity, more of its fans would become aware of JT’s music and remember his name. That could only bode well for his future.

  As soon as I was dressed, I sent him a quick text message to see if I could hang out at his place that morning. While I waited for a reply, I dried my hair and put on some makeup. I was in the midst of applying eye shadow when my thoughts took a fam
iliar turn. Several weeks ago I’d realized I was in love with my best friend, and had been for a while. Since then I’d fought a near-constant battle with my feelings. As much as I wanted to keep my love for him a secret in order to protect our friendship, that had become more and more difficult as the weeks passed.

  At times I thought I would burst from the intensity of my emotions, and more than once I’d come close to telling him how I felt. But each time fear silenced my voice. In the beginning I’d convinced myself that keeping quiet was for the best, but now I wasn’t quite so sure. Despite my uncertainty, I continued to hide behind my fear. How long I could keep doing that, I didn’t know, but as I finished applying my makeup, I forced myself to focus on something else.

  I mulled over my list of murder suspects as I ate a quick breakfast, but my thoughts seemed to go around in circles and I didn’t make any progress. No brilliant insights popped into my head while I brushed my teeth either. I did, however, receive a reply to the text message I’d sent JT, and that helped to temper my burgeoning frustration.

  Of course you can come over, his message read. The guys and I have one last band practice this afternoon, but I’m free this morning.

  I’m on my way, I wrote back. See you soon.

  Once I’d pulled on my coat, hat, and gloves, I grabbed my purse and was on my way. In less than ten minutes I’d arrived at JT’s place. Locking up my car, I hurried through the chilly, gray morning and up to the front porch. The warmth of the house enveloped me as soon as I stepped into the foyer, and I gladly shut the door against the cold outside air. Finnegan had heard my entry and came barreling down the hall toward me. Smiling, I crouched down and gave him a big hug.

  “Morning, Finnie boy. Did you miss me?”

  He answered by giving me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I said as I stood up.

  JT came down the hallway toward me. “We always miss you when you’re not here.”

  My heart did a giddy, flip-flopping dance at JT’s words. He helped me out of my coat and then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered at the side of my face and his eyes met mine. My heart flip-flopped again. I couldn’t breathe. His fingers brushed against my cheek, but then he dropped his hand, breaking the spell.