Deadly Overtures: A Music Lover's Mystery

by Sarah Fox

  I recalled something else. I’d left my bag sitting on the table in the musicians’ lounge. It was there when Jeb and the others entered the room with the police officer. Jeb would have passed by my bag and could have surreptitiously slipped the note into its depths as he did so. That would have been risky though, with the police officer not far behind him and with Yvonne, Harold, and Sasha entering the room at the same time.

  Still, it wasn’t impossible that the note had come from Jeb. Considering the content of the threat, the judge was a good suspect.

  Leave the past in the past.

  When we’d spoken about Pavlina’s charm bracelet, the death of her best friend had come up. Was that the part of the past the note referred to? If so, why was Jeb so determined to leave those past events undisturbed?

  Could the death of Tiffany Alphonse have something to do with the more recent deaths of Pavlina and Ethan?

  Possibly, but I didn’t see how.

  The mechanical gate blocking the entrance to the parking lot rose. I peered across the street as a car drove up the short driveway to the road, but as soon as it came fully into view I lost interest. The car was blue, unlike Jeb’s dark green truck, and a woman was in the driver’s seat.

  My phone vibrated in my cold hands and I glanced down to read the message JT had sent me.

  This is getting out of hand, his message read. Give the note to the police and stay away from the theater.

  I have to go to the theater tonight, I reminded him. I’ll give the note to the police, but I’m busy at the moment.

  Doing what??? he wrote back seconds later.

  I could almost feel his suspicion radiating out of my phone. For a brief moment I considered evading the question, but the note had left me rattled, and I decided I’d feel better if JT knew where I was and what I was doing.

  As succinctly as possible, I told him I was parked outside Jeb’s townhouse complex. I added what I’d overheard him say the night before, and then I mentioned that it was possible Jeb was the author of the note.

  If he wrote the note, you shouldn’t be anywhere near him.

  If he wrote the note, he’s most likely the killer, and somebody needs to keep an eye on him, I countered.

  Ten seconds ticked by before my phone vibrated again.

  Send me the address. I’m coming over there.

  I considered arguing, but not for long. The truth was that I’d feel safer with his company, as well as less bored. This whole stakeout thing was turning out to be pretty dull.

  I sent JT the address of the townhouse complex and he told me not to go anywhere until he arrived. I didn’t make any promises. If Jeb emerged before JT appeared, I couldn’t just let him go off and fulfill his sinister plans, whatever they involved.

  Returning my attention to the underground parking lot, I pulled my gloves back on over my chilled hands and drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. Time moved along at a lethargic pace, or at least that’s how it seemed. Another four cars left the complex and one entered the parking lot, but there was still no sign of Jeb. I shifted in my seat, growing tired of sitting there in the cold. I hoped JT would arrive soon, and that Jeb would appear shortly after. As determined as I’d been that morning to follow the judge, my patience had worn thin.

  Luckily JT’s truck turned onto the street a minute later and pulled up to the curb a short distance away from my own car. I watched through my rearview mirror as JT approached, and I popped the lock when he reached my car. He opened the passenger side door and ducked down to look into the vehicle.

  “Any sign of him?”

  “Not yet.” I shivered as cold air wafted in through the open door. “Get in. It’s freezing with the door open.”

  “There’s no way I’m hanging out in this toy of a car.”

  “It’s not a toy!”

  “To someone my size, it might as well be.”

  Okay, so that was true. The MINI Cooper was just the right size for me, but JT was over six feet tall and would no doubt feel cramped within seconds.

  I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat. “All right, we’ll move to your truck.”

  Always keeping an eye on the complex across the street, I retrieved my violin from behind the seat and left my car for JT’s. I was happy to find that the cab of his truck was warmer than my MINI Cooper since he’d had the engine and heat on more recently than I had.

  “Can I see the note?” JT asked as soon as he was settled in the driver’s seat.

  I withdrew the sheet of paper from my bag and passed it to him.

  He frowned as he read the short message. “You really need to give that to the police.”

  “I will,” I assured him as I returned the paper to my bag. “But not until I know what Jeb’s up to.”

  “Do you really think he’s the one who wrote that note?”

  “It would make sense if he’s the killer, but he didn’t exactly have ample opportunity to put the note in my bag. It could have been one of several people.”

  “Maybe I should come to the theater with you tonight.”

  Since the final concert was a recap of the two previous ones, JT hadn’t been hired to record it.

  “I’m sure that’s not necessary. There’ll be lots of people there.”

  “Including the killer, most likely.”

  “True, but I’ll make sure I’m always with someone I trust.”

  “I hope that’s a promise.”

  I reached over to give JT’s arm a reassuring pat. “It is.”

  He surprised me by placing his hand over mine and giving it a squeeze. I met his eyes—the gorgeous color of sunlit root beer—and my heart flip-flopped when he held my gaze.

  Hopeful butterflies took flight in my stomach. “JT . . .”

  A dark truck drove out of the underground parking lot.

  JT let go of my hand as I leaned closer to the windshield.

  “Is that him?” he asked.

  After a second I sat back, disappointed. “No.”

  I opened my mouth to say more, but the moment between us had passed. My disappointment intensified.

  JT rubbed his hands together. “You could have picked a warmer day for a stakeout.”

  I brushed my nagging feeling of regret aside.

  “It’s not like I can choose when a potential killer is going to act extra suspicious,” I said. “Besides, now that you’re here, this could be fun. It’s like we’re Castle and Beckett waiting for a villain to make a move.”

  “In the cold.”

  “In the cold,” I conceded. “And I should have brought snacks. Or at least coffee.”

  “I won’t argue with you there.”

  “Live and learn.”

  I settled back in my seat, my eyes still fixed on the driveway across the street.

  “Did you have a chance to listen to the tracks I gave you?” JT asked a moment later.

  “Not yet,” I said. “But I’m looking forward to it. I want to listen at a time when I can give the songs my full attention.”

  “No worries. Like I said before, there’s no rush.”

  “I’ll listen before the end of the week,” I assured him.

  A dark truck emerged from the underground parking lot.

  I sat up straighter and swatted JT’s arm. “That’s him! Quick!”

  JT started the engine and put the truck into gear. I pulled on my seat belt and snapped it into place.

  “Don’t lose him,” I cautioned, leaning forward, as if that could keep me closer to our quarry.

  “I won’t,” JT said. “Relax.”

  I tried to, but the best I could manage was to sit back in my seat. My heart continued to beat faster than normal and I gripped the armrest with my gloved fingers.

  “If he does anything illegal or puts anyone in danger, we’re ca
lling the police, right?” JT checked.

  “Of course.”

  I held my breath as Jeb drove through an intersection, but JT managed to follow him through before the light changed. The tense pursuit continued and after a couple of minutes I wondered if Jeb was heading for the Abrams Center. He was taking us in that direction, at least. But a moment later he drove right past the theater.

  “You know, he could be going to get groceries or something innocent like that,” JT said as he continued to travel behind the dark truck, leaving some space between the two vehicles.

  “We just passed a grocery store,” I pointed out.

  “Maybe he likes shopping at a different one.”

  “There’s nothing secretive about buying groceries, and he’s definitely up to something secretive. Why else would he be worried about someone suspecting what he’s up to?”

  JT didn’t argue with me on that point.

  “He’s pulling over!” I said a few seconds later.

  “I can see that.”

  I ignored his dry tone, searching frantically for a free parking space at the side of the road.

  “There’s a spot up there.” I pointed to the space by the curb.

  JT drove past Jeb’s truck, now parked, and claimed the spot I’d indicated. As soon as we stopped moving, I unclipped my seat belt and twisted around so I could look out the rear window. Jeb had climbed out of his truck and was circling around the front of it to reach the sidewalk. As soon as he was off the street, he headed in our direction.

  I slid down the seat to hide. “Get down!” I said to JT.

  He didn’t move. “Why?”

  “He’ll see you!”

  “So?”

  “He might recognize you.”

  “Not too likely,” JT said, not the least bit concerned. “Even if he saw me at the theater I doubt he’d remember me, especially out of context.”

  I let out a huff of frustration, still scrunched as low as I could get.

  “Besides, he’s already passed us.”

  I shot back up, my eyes going straight to the window. I caught sight of Jeb as he disappeared through the front door of a store. My gaze shifted up to the awning above the entrance.

  “Suzie’s Party Supplies?” I read, surprised.

  “Yeah, he’s definitely up to no good,” JT said, unsuccessfully fighting to keep the amusement out of his voice. “He’s probably planning to throw a killer surprise party.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Very funny.”

  He struggled to keep the grin off his face but couldn’t manage it. “This is what we sat in the cold waiting for? To watch him buy party supplies?”

  “This might be a stop on the way to another place,” I said.

  “Like a bakery so he can pick up a cake?” JT was still grinning.

  I glared at him again. “It’s not only innocent people who throw parties. Killers can too.”

  “Okay, sure. But you have to admit the words ‘They don’t suspect a thing’ has more than one connotation now.”

  I frowned as I stared through the window at the party supply store. “Fine,” I admitted reluctantly, knowing he was right. “Maybe he was talking about a surprise party. But,” I added quickly, “we don’t know that for sure. His phone conversations aren’t the only things that put him on my suspect list.”

  “Are you saying you still want to follow him when he gets out of there?”

  “Yes.”

  JT sighed, no longer grinning. “Can I at least go get a coffee?” He nodded at the coffee shop across the street.

  “There’s no time,” I said. “Here he comes.”

  I didn’t miss the rolling of JT’s eyes as I slid back down out of sight. He might have thought I was being silly, but I didn’t want to know how Jeb would react if he found out I’d been following him. Getting better acquainted with his nasty temper was something I’d rather avoid.

  “What do the balloons say?” I asked, having caught a brief glimpse of several helium ones as Jeb exited the shop.

  JT leaned closer to the passenger side window. “Happy fiftieth anniversary. The party’s probably for his parents.”

  “Probably,” I agreed.

  When JT turned the key in the ignition a moment later, I carefully rose up from my hiding spot. A quick glance over my shoulder showed me that Jeb was in his own truck again, signaling to pull out into traffic. Two cars got between us before JT was able to follow, but he was still well within sight.

  At the end of the street, Jeb made a right turn onto a side street and JT did the same several seconds later. After another right turn a minute or so later, my hopes of catching the judge in the act of something sinister faded away like the last note of a song, a decrescendo into nothing.

  “Looks like he’s heading home,” JT said.

  It didn’t take long to get confirmation of that theory. We soon followed Jeb onto the street where he lived, my shoulders sagging with disappointment. The dark truck disappeared into the underground parking lot and JT pulled to a stop outside the townhouse complex, across the street from my MINI Cooper.

  “Don’t look so dejected, Dori,” JT said as I unclipped my seat belt.

  “I really thought he was up to something bad.”

  “Like you said, he could still be the killer. His phone calls just weren’t as incriminating as you thought.”

  I made a vague sound of acknowledgment, staring out the window toward the entrance to the underground parking lot. A few raindrops hit the windshield, drizzling down the glass and obscuring my view.

  “I have to get home,” JT said. “The studio’s booked for eleven.”

  “Okay.” I did my best to appear less dispirited. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

  “You’re not going to stay here for the rest of the morning, are you?”

  “No, that would probably be a waste of time.” I took a second to consider my options. “Is it all right if I hang out at your place and get some practice in?”

  “Of course.”

  “All right.” I reached for the door. “See you soon then.”

  With my tote bag over my shoulder and my violin case in hand, I crossed the street to my car, getting pelted by the raindrops that now fell steadily from the sky. Soon after, I pulled my car out into the street behind JT’s truck and trailed him to his house. Once in my studio, I immersed myself in some Paganini, allowing the music to file the edge off the disappointment that came from failing to identify Pavlina and Ethan’s killer.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  BY THE TIME I’d finished teaching for the day, I’d recovered from my disappointment over not catching Jeb in the act of something incriminating. One fruitless stakeout didn’t mean all was lost. The killer could still be caught, whether that person was Jeb or somebody else. I simply needed to continue searching for clues.

  As I prepared to leave JT’s house, I remembered the threatening note still tucked away in my bag. I needed to deliver it to the police, but I didn’t have time to do so that day. It would have to wait until the next morning. Detective Van den Broek would no doubt be less than thrilled to see me again, but the feeling would be mutual.

  Despite heavy traffic made worse by the pouring rain, I arrived at the theater early that evening. The musicians’ lounge was empty upon my arrival, and once I’d secured my belongings in my locker, I wondered what I should do next. I’d promised JT that I’d stick close to someone I trusted while at the theater, but until Mikayla or my other fellow musicians arrived, I was on my own.

  Recalling the discovery of Ethan’s body the other night—a short distance down the hallway—my skin prickled. I didn’t feel comfortable hanging out in the lounge on my own. The silence was creeping me out.

  Although I knew it meant I’d have to pass by the judges’ lounge, I decided to go upstairs a
nd see if Hans was in his office. He wasn’t my first choice for company, and while he wasn’t the most honest person—as I’d learned from experience—I knew he wasn’t a killer. I might not have the time of my life while hanging out with him, but I’d be safe.

  I quietly climbed the carpeted stairs to the second floor and peered into the hallway. I let out a breath of relief when I saw that the door to the judges’ lounge was shut. I continued to move quietly, not wanting to draw attention to myself from any corner, and my relief intensified when I realized that the door to Hans’s office was open and the room was illuminated by the overhead light.

  When I reached the door, I tapped on the frame. Hans looked up from his seat behind his desk.

  “Midori,” he greeted. He glanced over my shoulder at the hallway and lowered his voice. “Any news?”

  I pushed his office door shut all but a crack and sank down into the chair in front of his desk. “No, not really. Ethan was my prime suspect, but now that he’s dead . . .”

  Hans nodded. “I guess that strikes him off the list, assuming that the two deaths are related, which seems most likely.”

  “It does,” I said, agreeing to everything he’d said.

  Hans glanced at his watch and got to his feet. “I need to have a quick word with the judges before everything gets under way.”

  I was about to protest, to tell him that I didn’t want to be alone, but I quickly changed my mind. I didn’t want to sound helpless or needy, especially not in front of him. Eyeing the laptop on his desk, I got an idea.

  “Is it all right if I hang out here for a bit and borrow your laptop?” I asked. “I want to do a little research into something to do with Pavlina.”

  Hans paused by the door. “Go ahead. Will this research help you find out who killed her and Ethan?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t want to leave any stone unturned.”