Deadly Harmony

by Marissa Shrock

  “Sorry we’re late. Detective Hawk paid us a visit this morning,” I said.

  Evan cracked open a new can of tennis balls, and a rubbery scent hissed out. “What’d you do now?” He tossed a ball to his brother.

  I gave him a quick recap while Aidan stared at me.

  “I can’t believe Dr. Kurtz is gone. He was such a great guy.” Makayla shuddered. “Who’d want to kill him?”

  “Obviously someone you don’t want to mess with.” Evan leveled his gaze at me. “Sounds like a good reason for you to back off your investigating.”

  “Or all the more reason to find Quincy.” Like a lot of my friends, Evan didn’t understand my need to find justice—or answers for the victims’ families. But they hadn’t lost a parent to murder and lived without answers for nearly a decade.

  Evan picked up his racket. “Just be careful.”

  “We will.” I tugged my T-shirt hem.

  Aidan tossed a tennis ball in the air and caught it. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but the clock’s ticking. We’ve only got the court for two hours.”

  “Right. Let’s do this.” Makayla took her racket out of her bag.

  Aidan turned to Makayla. “I hear it’s us against the old people.”

  She gave him a high five. “That’s right. You two are going down.” They sauntered around the net.

  Yep. I know.

  “Evan, I’m sorry, but I haven’t played since high school,” I whispered.

  “I didn’t know you were on the team.” He coached the high school boys.

  “I wasn’t. I meant sophomore PE class.” I said a silent prayer of thanks that the other courts were empty.

  Just three witnesses.

  “No worries.” He smiled. “I’ll give you pointers and serve first.”

  “Good call. I’ll just stand by the net and do what I can.” At least I was tall. I bent at the waist and spun the racket in my hands, trying to look like Laura had when I’d watched her matches.

  “Love all.” Evan tossed the ball in the air, and before I knew what was happening, Aidan returned the serve. The ball whizzed by my shoulder, and Evan caught it with his backhand.

  Makayla returned the shot, and the menacing yellow bullet barreled toward me. I raised my racket up in self-defense, and the ball doinked off of it and dropped on our side of the court.

  Help me, Jesus.

  I snatched up the evil projectile and tossed it to Evan.

  “Nice try, Georgia.” Evan moved to the left side of the court.

  I scooted right but kept my post near the net.

  “Love fifteen.”

  This time I was prepared for the speed of the game—or so I thought. After a nice volley between Aidan and Evan, Makayla smashed the ball toward me.

  I swung—and missed. The ball grazed my arm and plunked inside the lines before rolling away.

  Makayla and Aidan cheered.

  I trotted to the court next to ours, retrieved the ball, and tossed it to Evan. “Sorry.”

  “No worries. Love thirty.”

  This time Evan got smart, and after volleying with his brother, he charged the net and put away the return shot with a wicked backspin.

  “Nice!” I hadn’t moved. How long would this match take? Hadn’t Laura talked about something called an eight-game pro set? I should suggest one so Evan and Aidan could enjoy their time on the court.

  “Thanks.” Evan sauntered back to serve. “Fifteen thirty.”

  By this time, I’d figured out my role—and Life Lesson #6753: Stay out of the way, and let your teammate handle the game. Swing only in self-defense.

  Actually, I was pretty certain I could also apply that advice to criminal investigations—but that wasn’t going to happen.

  Everyone liked my suggestion of an eight-game pro set, and after Aidan and Makayla beat Evan and me eight to five, we let the boys finish their time on the court while we waited in the elevated lobby, watching through the floor-to-ceiling window.

  I collapsed on the brown leather sectional sofa facing the courts. “I’m beat.”

  “You barely moved.” Makayla smoothed her hair.

  “I’m exhausted from the stress.” I propped my feet up on the coffee table full of tennis magazines. I’d already changed into long pants—no one else needed to see me in those shorts.

  She laughed. “Anyway, Aidan’s pretty cool—and cute. It’s nice to see him outside of class.”

  Maybe my embarrassment over my lack of tennis prowess was worth it if there was a love connection. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

  “I don’t know. But I’ll find out.” She removed her phone, and I guessed she was stalking him on social media.

  A few minutes later, she wiggled her phone in triumph. “If he does, it’s on the down-low. No pics of a girl. Just guys on the tennis team and his roommates.”

  “Good deal.” While she continued her online research, I took out my phone and found an article about Elias Kurtz’s death. The Richard County Gazette had an article on their website.

  Actor found dead at local cemetery

  RICHARDVILLE — The Richard County Sheriff’s Department reports that a maintenance worker at Briarwick Cemetery in rural Richard County discovered a body in an abandoned car early Sunday morning. The victim was thirty-two-year-old actor Elias Kurtz, who was currently starring in The Sound of Music at Bell’s Dinner Theater in Richardville. Kurtz’s death has been ruled a homicide.

  Anyone with information pertaining to this case is encouraged to contact the sheriff’s department.

  I dropped my phone in my lap. It was very strange that Elias had died at a cemetery and Quincy had disappeared at one. Still, the article didn’t reveal anything new or helpful.

  I watched Evan and Aidan volley and considered everything we’d learned, and there was one area where I hadn’t followed up.

  “Mak, what can you tell me about Dr. Jackson?”

  “Not much. He’s a bachelor. His house is a few blocks from campus, and he walks to work when the weather’s nice. He expects a lot out of his students, so he’s all business when it comes to music.”

  “Is he the type to take a bribe?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that since we talked to Officer Schwartz.” She slouched and crossed her arms. “Under the right circumstances, anybody might be tempted to take a bribe, so I have no idea. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries. I don’t expect you to be a mind reader.” I used my phone to locate the music department’s page on the university website, found the faculty biographies, and opened Dr. Jackson’s. His picture showed a thinner—almost gaunt—man.

  “Check this out.” I turned my phone toward Makayla. “Was he sick?”

  “Yeah. I’d forgotten he had cancer. We had a fundraiser for him the fall of my freshman year.”

  “When was he diagnosed?”

  “Earlier that year, I think.” She turned her attention back to her own phone. Apparently, Aidan’s life was riveting.

  “What if . . .” I waited for her to look up. “Medical bills would’ve been great motivation for accepting a bribe from Quincy’s dad.”

  “Yeah.” She winced. “You’re right.”

  A while later, Evan and Aidan finished their match and came into the lobby.

  “He beat me.” Aidan adjusted the tennis bag on his shoulder.

  Evan pointed his thumbs at his chest. “This old man’s still got it.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Aidan punched Evan’s arm. “Thirty-two isn’t old.”

  I looked at Evan. “Two hours ago, you were old.”

  “What can I say?” Evan grinned and held up his phone. “Excuse me a minute. Kelsey called, so I’m going to see if I can catch her.” He walked over to the corner next to a drinking fountain. His girlfriend worked at a clinic in Ethiopia, and the distance was hard on them both.

  “Aidan, Makayla and I are trying to figure out what’s going on with Quincy Ashbrook. Do you mind if I ask a few questions about your roo
mmate?”

  “Jo-Bro? Sure.” He dropped his bag and took a drink from his thermos. “Fire away.”

  “Did you know he and Quincy split a couple of weeks ago?” I asked.

  “For real? He was hanging out with her last weekend.” He set his thermos next to his bag and plopped onto the sofa next to Makayla.

  “Yes. Jonas told us they were still friends. Did Quincy spend a lot of time at your house?”

  “Some.” He took a tennis ball from his pocket and bounced it. “She’s cool.”

  “Tell me about Jonas.”

  “Jo-Bro’s pretty quiet. That’s why he’s an awesome roommate. Half the time you don’t even know he’s around, and he doesn’t leave his stuff everywhere. Plus, he’s cool to hang out with.”

  Great. We’d established Jo-Bro and Quincy were cool. Riveting information . . . Nice Georgia. “What else can you tell me about him?”

  “He’s from Indy. Business major. Marketing minor. Loves working out and is a health nut. Plays lead guitar in a band.” He bounced the ball some more. “The dude loves pranks. He’s pulled off some epic stunts.”

  “What’s his best one?” I asked.

  Aidan pocketed the tennis ball. “Freshman year, we had a scavenger hunt pick-a-date, and Jo helped plan it. Anyway, one of the tasks was to stop at a cemetery and get a picture of a gravestone of someone named John.”

  Jonas had sent people to a cemetery. Interesting. Makayla crossed her arms.

  “So my buddies, our dates, and I are strolling through the cemetery, when Jo pops out from behind a headstone. The dude’s dressed like a zombie and starts chasing us.”

  Quite the stunt for a guy with coimetrophobia. “I bet that was startling.”

  “Sure was. But we cracked up after we stopped screaming.”

  What else had Jonas lied about? What if instead of being afraid, he was obsessed with cemeteries and had arranged the meetings with Quincy and Elias? If he were trying to creep them out, it could be a very effective—and private—meeting place.

  “This may sound weird, but did you ever see Quincy with two phones?”

  “No.” Aidan dabbed a towel over his face and furrowed his brow. “But speaking of second phones, something weird happened last week.” He tossed the towel over his shoulder. “Some of the guys in my house and I were watching Dumb and Dumber when our couch vibrated. I found a phone between the cushions. Jo claimed it was his buddy’s, but then he acted all guilty and stuck it in his pocket like it was his and he didn’t want us to see. I don’t know. Maybe it really was his friend’s. Jo’s phone was sitting out on the coffee table, so he wasn’t hiding that.”

  “Did he mention his buddy’s name?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  That would’ve been too easy. “Was it a burner phone?”

  He leaned back into the sofa. “Could’ve been. It was a smartphone, but it looked pretty cheap.”

  “Did you happen to see who the call was from?” I asked.

  “Janebug—no last name.”

  Makayla sat up straighter.

  I stared at her.

  “Janebug is Jonas’s nickname for Quincy.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Jo never told me that.” Aidan shrugged. “But we don’t tell each other everything.”

  “Probably because he didn’t want you to know she called him Jobug.” Makayla snickered. “Jane’s her middle name, but I don’t know where they got bug.” She made a gagging motion.

  “Did Jonas ever seem to be hiding anything besides the phone?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so, but he could’ve been.” Aidan furrowed his brow. “We’ve already established I had no idea what he called his girlfriend.”

  I smothered a grin. “Did he run errands at odd hours? Stay out late often?”

  “Sometimes. Last year when we lived in the dorm, we didn’t have a curfew, so he took advantage of that.” He put the towel around his neck and held onto both ends. “Now the guys and I share a house—well, it’s a remodeled church—and we all have our own rooms. If Jonas is coming and going late at night, I wouldn’t hear him. I’m a really heavy sleeper.”

  “That’s true.” Evan pocketed his phone as he rejoined us. “He had to be since he was the baby of the family.”

  “How’s Kelsey?” She and I were prayer partners and emailed on a fairly regular basis.

  “We didn’t have long to talk, but she wanted to tell me she’s coming home this summer for a visit.”

  For a second, I thought he was going to jump up and down. “That’s great. How long will she be here?” We all got up and headed for the parking lot.

  “A month.” He beamed.

  Outside the door, Aidan froze next to a bench. “Wait. I just remembered something else that might be important.”

  We stopped. At least the drizzle had ended, and the sun had made an appearance.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “About a month ago, I came home to study between classes. Jo’s room is right next to mine, and I heard his phone ring. Then he yelled, ‘He can’t quit! What’re we going to do?’ It was weird because I’d never heard Jo freak out like that before.”

  In spite of the warmer temperature, goosebumps rose on my arms. “Anything else?”

  “Just a thump—like he pounded his fist against the wall.”

  “Now what?” Makayla asked as we heated leftover chicken casserole for lunch.

  The microwave dinged, and I grabbed hot pads and removed the ceramic dish. “Get the plates. We’re eating in the dining room.”

  “Why?” But she—and Gus—followed me.

  I set the casserole on the table and pointed at the chalkboard I’d painted on my dining room wall and trimmed with reclaimed wood. Last night, Ashley had drawn a picture of a kitten pawing a ball of yarn, and I hoped she wasn’t leaving visual hints for me to get an indoor cat the way she’d campaigned for me to get a dog.

  Gus would not appreciate a feline roommate.

  “We’re going to write what we already know about the case on the board,” I said.

  “That’s awesome!” She sat and started eating.

  I took a bite and grabbed a piece of blue chalk from the basket on the sideboard. “Let’s make a timeline.” I scooped up a bite of casserole and chewed while I drew a line and notches. “Quincy left Saturday morning sometime after midnight. Cal found my abandoned car between six-thirty and seven. We know from Detective Hawk asking for our whereabouts that Elias must’ve been murdered between one and three on Sunday morning.” I added these events and turned to Makayla. “What am I missing?”

  She studied the board. “The chorale got back to Brenneman late Saturday night.” She scrolled through her phone. “Sammi’s text came in at 11:46.”

  I added that, took another bite, and considered everything that’d happened. I wrote Quincy, Jonas, Elias, and Dr. Jackson on the board, along with Tune Nutritional Supplements, burner phone, no ransom, bad blood between Elias and Dr. Jackson, and Jonas angry about something and lying about fear of cemeteries. “I hate to bring this up, but—”

  “You’ve been wondering if Quincy could’ve shot Dr. Kurtz.”

  “Yes.”

  “She wouldn’t do that.” Makayla’s expression dared me to challenge her.

  “How can you be sure? Detective Hawk didn’t deny the possibility of Quincy’s involvement.”

  “I just know.”

  Not this again. I closed my eyes. Lord, give me patience. I flicked the chalk between my fingers and considered Makayla’s reactions. “I know you’re worried about being a good example for Quincy, but why else are you so loyal to her?”

  Makayla pushed a glob of casserole around her plate and dropped her fork. “Freshman year, I struggled with depression.”

  “I remember.”

  “The transition to college was hard for me, and I had trouble making friends first semester—except for Quincy. I wasn’t easy to live with, and for some reason she stuck by me, so I
owe it to her to figure out if she’s in danger.” Makayla twisted her napkin. “Is she spoiled? Yes. Selfish? Definitely. A murderer? No way.”

  Makayla’s certainty did nothing to alleviate my doubts, but I needed to keep her on my side if we were going to get to the bottom of the situation. “Okay. We’ll look at a different angle.” I squinted at the board. “Dr. Jackson had time to make it to Richardville after the chorale returned. What if Elias discovered Dr. Jackson took a bribe from Quincy’s parents and threatened to expose him? Elias could’ve been trying to get revenge for not getting his contract renewed.”

  “I have trouble picturing Dr. Jackson shooting anyone,” she said. “He has high standards, but he seems so harmless.”

  I was probably getting cynical, but I’d learned that even the most harmless looking people were capable of murder.

  Makayla leaned back. “Quincy’s parents would’ve been affected if Dr. Kurtz exposed the bribery, and her dad is super intense.”

  “Enough to kill Elias?”

  She squeezed her napkin. “I always thought Mr. Ashbrook was a nice guy—at least until he had a cow when he was here . . . so . . . maybe?”

  I studied the timeline. “Jonas had time to make it to Richardville as well. What if he was more upset by the breakup than we realized, and he was jealous of Quincy’s relationship with Elias?”

  Makayla compressed her lips. “Dr. Kurtz said he wasn’t seeing Quincy.”

  I took a bite of casserole to keep myself from arguing. “The chick who played Maria in The Sound of Music was giving us the evil eye when she saw us going into Elias’s dressing room, so maybe she had a thing for him. We should talk to her.”

  “She probably reported us to Detective Hawk, so I doubt she’ll talk to us.”

  “We should try,” I said. “She had on a Fitness Universe Staff sweatshirt, so we could find her there. Do you remember seeing her name in the program?”