“Yes,” Gwen said. “Learning a new craft is so rewarding.”
“I agree, Gwen.” Alice looked at Annie. “And having someone like Annie teaching me has been such a pleasure. Not only does she—”
“I have something to say,” Stella announced in her most imperious voice, interrupting the exchange.
The group fell silent, and the women stilled their hands as they looked at her, waiting. Annie had learned long ago that when Stella spoke in that tone of voice, what she usually had to say was often serious and/or unpleasant. The fact that she interrupted Alice in mid-sentence underscored Stella’s intent, whatever it was. The older woman fixed Annie with a steely expression, much the way a teacher would regard a problematic pupil.
“Annie, I see a major problem with your plan.”
“Oh?” Right then, Annie had so many plans going on, she almost felt weighed down with them. “Which plan is that, Stella?”
“This plan for musical entertainment at your little … party.” She made it sound as though Annie’s cookout was going to be a haphazard, insignificant event. “You have not asked Jason to play.”
Annie blinked.
“Oh, but I—”
“You just assumed he’d do this for you?”
Annie shifted beneath Stella’s frown, keeping a lid on her temper by reminding herself of Stella’s age and personality.
“Of course not,” she said. “I would never presume to take advantage of him, and I have every intention of asking. I was hoping—”
“Hoping what? That I’d tell him to do it, and that would be that?” She waved a hand. “Jason has his own life, Annie Dawson.”
Annie swallowed hard, feeling affronted and defensive. The prospect of Jason playing at the barbecue had just been proposed. Of course she liked Alice’s idea and hoped that Jason would be willing to play the piano at her cookout. But she would never expect him to drop everything and do so simply because she asked, and she certainly wouldn’t want Stella to order him to do it. Trust Stella Brickson to put this uncomfortable spin on the whole affair.
“I’ll call Jason,” she said, “but, Stella, please understand I need to find out first if having the piano outside is even doable. I don’t want Jason to do this if he doesn’t want to, and I certainly don’t want to commit myself to such a feat if we can’t use the piano. I may end up doing as Mary Beth suggested and set up a CD player somewhere.”
Stella sniffed and pursed her lips. “Well,” she said, and nothing else. She bent her head over the knitting in her hand.
After a few tense and extremely uncomfortable moments, Kate said, “Mary Beth, may we please talk about the music box now?”
“Of course!” Mary Beth looked at her shop assistant as if she had no idea why Kate asked such a thing.
The women shared a chuckle and the tense atmosphere began to dissolve. Stella seemed obviously interested in the music box, but just as obviously she kept that curiosity low-key. She glanced up as Annie reached into the large tote bag but quickly looked back at her knitting.
“Papa Dexter is a genius!” Annie declared as she pulled out the music box. Stella’s head snapped up.
“Alexander Dexter?” she said, eyes narrowed behind her glasses.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Huh!” She muttered. She shifted in her chair, and jabbed her needle into a stitch as if she were angry at the knitted piece.
Annie and Alice exchanged a glance and silently agreed to talk about this later.
“Look, ladies,” Annie said, drawing attention back to the music box. “I want to show you how this opens.”
While relating the information Papa Dexter had given her about Malcolm Tyler’s boxes, Annie demonstrated how to open the music box.
“See this butterfly?” she said, and they leaned forward en masse, squinting, as she held the box out. “Right here, under this wing …” She pressed the hidden key, and the women gasped as the box came apart.
“Look at that!” Gwen said.
“I’ve never seen something like that before!” Kate said, peering closely. “Oh, my!”
Even Stella finally leaned in for a closer look.
“Last week,” Annie said, “when we heard the rustling sound inside this box, it was the music manuscript, rolled neatly and tied in a ribbon, right here.”
“Think of that!” Kate murmured, her eyes wide and sparkling.
“And best of all,” Annie said, looking at every face in turn, “Papa Dexter fixed the movement. At first he thought it was jammed, but the music never played because this little part right here was damaged. The teeth had been broken off of this.” She touched a fingertip to the bit of metal. “It’s called a comb. Luckily, Papa had another music box that was broken, and he took the comb from it for this one.”
“I guess it’s called a comb because it looks like one,” Peggy observed.
“Yes,” Annie agreed. “I think so.”
The women stared at the mechanism for a time, and then Kate said, “Would you please play it for us, Annie?”
“Yes, do!” said Mary Beth.
“Please!” added Gwen and Alice.
Stella had leaned back against her chair and resumed knitting at such an intensely high rate of speed, it seemed she would have finished her piece—and ten more just like it—before the meeting broke up. But when she looked up and met Annie’s eyes, she nodded, briefly.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Wind it up and play it, Annie.”
Annie turned the key and a moment later the soft, light notes began to play while the tiny metal teeth of the comb struck each one.
Stella put down her work and listened, head tilted to one side like a bird in the spring.
When the music died, she met Annie’s eyes again and said, “Isn’t that the music Jason played from the composition you found in the music box?”
“Yes! Can you believe it?”
“Really?” Kate said, her eyes wider than ever. “You mean on the musical score?”
“Yes,” Annie said.
“How great!” Peggy said. “But how … odd.”
“Very odd,” Annie agreed.
“I don’t understand,” Stella said. “Why does it play that same tune?”
Annie shrugged. “I don’t know. I wish I did. It just seems I uncover one piece of the puzzle only to discover another part is missing. One good thing has happened, though. I found out who had commissioned the music box, so maybe, if I can locate the man’s family, they can enlighten me even further. At least searching for people is easier these days with the Internet, so maybe finding someone who knew Peter Starne won’t be too difficult.”
“Peter Starne?” Mary Beth and Gwen echoed in unison.
“Yes. I tracked down Malcolm Tyler’s great-niece in Vermont. I called her, and she has a book in which all Malcolm’s customers were listed, what they ordered and when. Peter Starne ordered that music box.”
“Peter Starne, the piano tuner?” Mary Beth said.
Annie gawked at her. “Wh-what? You’ve heard of him?”
“Heard of him? Of course! Peter Starne was this area’s best piano tuner,” Gwen said. “He’s in Seaside Hills Assisted Living now.”
“He is?” Annie nearly squealed. “He’s still alive?”
“Oh, yes,” Mary Beth said, “he’s in his nineties, quite frail physically, but his mind is still sharp as a tack.”
Annie was so flabbergasted that she sat silently and stared at her companions.
“Do you mean to tell me the man who owned that music box is as close as Seaside Hills Assisted Living?”
“Unless there is another Peter Starne somewhere,” Gwen said. “But I have a strong feeling he’s the one. How many Peter Starnes are there in this part of the world, especially musical ones?”
“Then I must go see him!” Annie declared, ready to jump up immediately and hurry to the facility.
“For goodness sake! What a lot of fuss about so little.” Stella jabbed her needle. “
If he has lived this long, surely he will live long enough for you to see him in the home. You don’t need to break your neck running out of here.”
All the women gaped at her, and then exchanged glances with each other. Stella looked up and caught their expressions. She stopped working for a moment, her mouth a tight line. Finally her face softened.
“I apologize. That sounded cold,” she said, her eyes clouding. “I’m often too blunt for my own comfort.” She began to put her work away. “I’m sorry. Sometimes words just pour from my mouth without my permission, and they hurt whoever happens to be in the way. Today, I think we’d all be better off if I just go home.”
“Oh, no!” Annie said. “Stella, don’t leave. We understand. All of us say things without thinking sometimes.”
“Of course we do,” Mary Beth said.
No one added that Stella seemed to do it more than anyone else. She placed everything in her basket and got to her feet.
“Thank you for understanding, but I’m going to go now.”
“Without Jason?” Gwen asked.
Stella paused at the door. “My driver is right down the street at The Cup & Saucer. I’ll see you later, ladies.”
“Stella!” Annie said as the woman opened the door. “You’ll be at the cookout Saturday, won’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Stella said after a moment’s pause. Then she walked out, leaving her friends to puzzle after her.
Some of the shine was knocked off the day by Stella’s peculiar behavior and careless words. Annie wondered what she had said or done that irritated the older woman, and how many times she would unknowingly irritate Stella in the future. She sighed loudly without realizing it.
“Oh, don’t let her bother you,” Peggy said. “You should know by now that Stella is a lovely woman who is full of good intentions. She doesn’t seem to always be in tune with the rest of us.”
“It’s all right,” Annie assured her concerned friends. “I believe I’m getting used to her. I know she’s my friend.” She glanced around. “The problem is, I just wish I knew when I’m getting under her skin before it happens.”
“We all wish we knew how to do that,” Mary Beth said. “I’m sure it all has something to do with that music you found. She got uncomfortable when you started talking about the music box and later about the party.”
The meeting broke up, and various projects found their way back into tote bags or baskets. Everyone wanted to hear the music box again, so Annie played it again, and then they all left the store to go about the rest of their day.
16
Back home, Annie had barely stepped through her door when her phone rang. She half-expected to hear from Grady Brooks again, but caller ID told her the person on the other end was Wally Carson.
“Annie!” he said enthusiastically when she answered. “Good afternoon!”
“Hi, Wally,” she replied with a laugh. “How are you? Did you get the library shelves finished?”
“I did. They look good too.”
“I’m sure they do. You are a true pro, Wally. It’s easy to see why your wife is your biggest fan.”
He laughed. “I believe she is. And speaking of her, she tells me you need something built for your cookout this weekend, some kind of platform?”
“Yes, something level and strong to hold my piano. Can you do it?”
She could hear him take in a deep breath and let it out.
“Well, let me give it some thought, Annie. I’d surely like to do it for you, but I’m just not sure I can build it in the time we have left. Now if you can put off the barbecue a week or two …”
She knew he was teasing, trying to lighten the disappointment.
“I can’t put it off, sorry to tell you. The invitations have been given, and Alice is baking up enough goodies to feed the entire Eastern Seaboard.”
“As I said, let me give the matter some consideration, and I’ll see what I can do about adjusting my schedule and commitments. Could be someone else might not mind waiting a few days.”
“Oh, Wally, no. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anyone else—”
“Now, Annie, listen to me. This is a great thing you’re doing, throwing a big party for the whole community. I think the cedar lining for Mrs. Willingham can be pushed back to next week without undue inconvenience for anyone. I’ll need to do some measuring and figuring first at your place before I start the platform. I’ll stop by this evening, if that’s all right?”
“Sounds good, Wally. Thank you!”
After a quick lunch, Annie freshened up, filled Boots’s food and water bowls, and then fetched her purse and car keys. She was just stepping outside when the telephone rang again.
“Hi, Annie!” It was Alice. “Are you going to go see Peter Starne today?”
“I’m on my way right now. Well, actually, I’m going to go see Jason first. Wally called and said he thought he could build the piano platform for me. Would you like to go with me?”
“Annie, I would. I really, really would like to go with you, but today I’m elbow deep in cookie dough.”
“Ooo! Sounds like fun.”
“I like it. Maybe you should come over here instead of running around, seeing people, and solving mysteries.”
They laughed together like two schoolgirls.
“Annie, I’ve been thinking,” Alice said.
“Oh, now that sounds dangerous.”
“Ha, ha—very funny. Seriously, though, I’m thinking that moving your big old piano is going to be hard, and moving it down the porch steps will make it worse. Plus, it’s hard on a piano to be moved around a lot.”
“Yes, I agree. Pianos are extremely heavy and unwieldy, but they are also delicate.”
“And you don’t want to give anyone a hernia,” Alice added.
“Well, no. I’d rather not.”
“I have a better idea than having that thing heaved all over the place.”
Annie’s interest piqued.
“Oh? And that would be … ?”
“Rather than having live music as a background all during the cookout, why not a just little mini-concert?”
Annie frowned. “But wouldn’t that still involve moving the piano?”
“Only as far as the porch. We could have Jason—”
“If he’ll do it,” Annie said.
“Yes, if. And if he will, we could have him play some songs, and then when he’s finished some of the guys can move the piano back into the house. This way, you won’t have to get Wally to build a platform or a crew to haul the thing down the steps.”
Annie mulled her friend’s notion for a bit, liking the idea the more she thought about it.
“You might be on to something there, Alice. That would certainly simplify things, wouldn’t it?”
“It would. And another thing.”
“Yes?”
“I think you should display the music box. Believe it or not, it’s caused a stir around town, and I think people would like to see it and learn more about it. I bet you’ll be answering questions all day. Too bad you haven’t gotten to the bottom of the puzzle about that unfinished sonata.”
Annie heaved a sigh. “I know. I’d love to know who wrote it and where the rest of it is. But I do like your idea of displaying the music box. I just wish I had more to tell folks when they ask. If Peter Starne can’t offer me much information, maybe someone else will before Saturday.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed, because that music is a true puzzle and very romantic.”
“You are one hundred percent right. I’d like to meet this Olivia person. She must have been something else to have a sonata written for her—even if it is unfinished.”
“I’d say so.” Alice paused for just a moment, and then she asked, “By the way, have you heard from your old boyfriend again?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Annie sputtered. “He said he’d like to come and if he does, he’s bringing his friend from Portland. So get all these ridiculous matchmaki
ng ideas out of your head, Alice. Grady and I have no romantic interest in each other whatsoever! And let’s get something straight, you silly girl. Grady was not my boyfriend. Ever. And if he shows up, don’t be all giggly and goofy about it. Please?”
Alice sighed so deeply Annie could nearly feel it through the telephone.
“All right. I’m just thinking of you and your happiness. But you know something, Annie? You can be a real buzzkill.”
“Yes. You’ve told me that before.” She laughed a little at her friend’s exaggerated sense of martyrdom. “Listen, I better get going. I have a lot to do, and so do you.”
“OK. Let me know what Jason says, and what you learn from Mr. Starne.”
“I will. Bye now.”
When Annie arrived at Stella’s home, the older woman’s greeting at the front door was a little chilly, but completely courteous. She invited Annie into her sitting room, and once they were in there, she offered tea.
“Thank you, no,” Annie said. “I just stopped by a moment to talk to Jason.”
Stella’s lips thinned. “About Saturday?”
“Yes.” Annie saw no reason to engage in a dialogue that might end in with someone’s feelings being wounded. She braced herself for more of Stella’s resistance.
“I see. Well, let me go and get him. Please, Annie, have a seat while you wait.”
A few minutes later Jason quietly entered the room alone. He gave her a warm smile.
“May I get you some coffee, Annie?”
“No, thanks, Jason. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Sure.” He sat down in a wing chair close to hers and looked at her with interest. “You seem tense, if you don’t mind me saying so. Is there a problem?”
“No, no,” she hastened to assure him. “Not at all. I’m afraid I might have irritated Stella a little earlier, though.” She glanced at the doorway. “I guess that’s why she’s not here.”
“Or maybe she’s giving us privacy,” Jason said. “Mrs. B is a class-act lady, Annie, but I’ve learned it’s best if you don’t take her moods too seriously. She doesn’t mean to be overbearing.” He lost his smile and became rather businesslike. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Mrs. B? Because I don’t feel comfortable talking about her.”
The Unfinished Sonata Page 14