The Trouble with Talent

by Kathy Krevat

  She didn’t say anything for a while and I waited for her to decide whether to tell me. “Opal Volker isn’t with any of her family members. And she hasn’t used her phone or credit cards for a couple of days.”

  “Whoa,” I said. “Is she on the run or…?”

  “We don’t know,” she said. “Either of those is bad.”

  I heard someone call her name through the phone.

  “Gotta go.” She hung up.

  I worried about Opal for a while. She could have taken a vacation and used the family emergency as an excuse. Or maybe she really had been taking money for changing grades and because of my questions, she assumed the police were closing in. Maybe she cashed out so she could start over somewhere. I couldn’t help but wonder if there really was a fixer and he’d “fixed” her.

  I took a few deep breaths. Then I called Yollie back to let her know an officer was on the way to get the recorder.

  “Hey Colbie?” Yollie asked, her voice tentative. “I want to let you know that I feel terrible about the five star review I gave Benson.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “It’s really not okay,” she said. “I was thinking only about Steven, and trying to save money so I could afford for him to keep going. It was selfish.”

  “It’s over, Yollie,” I said. “No need to feel guilty now.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she said. “I can’t stop thinking that maybe I ruined someone else’s kid. That he or she was abused by Benson and decided against being a musician. All because of my review.”

  * * * *

  I tried to make Yollie feel better but wasn’t sure I succeeded. When I was almost at the kitchen, my dad called. “Get back here,” he sounded nervous. “A man came to the door. He said your friend Tod sent him.”

  “Don’t let him in,” I said. “Tod didn’t tell me anything.” I made a U-turn and started driving faster.

  “I didn’t,” he said. “He’s got some weird equipment and he said he’d get started in the garage.”

  Oh man. Tod went ahead with having my house checked for bugs? I called him and he picked up.

  “Did you send someone to my house?” I asked.

  “Yes, he’s checking for electronic surveillance,” Tod said. “I told you it was important.”

  “You could have given me a head’s up,” I said, sounding cranky.

  “This way it’s harder for you to say no,” he said.

  “Fine.”

  I hung up and called my dad back. “You can let him in,” I said. “I didn’t tell you before but Tod thinks we should have the house checked for bugs because we found the GPS tracker.”

  “Great,” my dad said sarcastically. “It’s like having Jason Bourne living here.”

  “Hey!” I protested.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “If it’ll help you be safe, let’s do it.”

  “I’ll be home soon.”

  * * * *

  Tod’s friend wouldn’t tell me his name when I introduced myself. I gestured to his shirt, which had the word “Wizard” emblazoned diagonally across it. “I have to call you something. How about Wizard?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  Twenty minutes later he was pointing a weird piece of electronics, which looked like a Star Trek tricorder, at my dining room chandelier. He put a finger to his mouth. Then he pulled a wire from inside the chandelier, so small that I’d never noticed it before. At the end of it was a tiny microphone.

  Trouble sat staring at it, as if to say, Finally. She’d been watching the chandelier for days. Could she sense the bug?

  My heart started pounding. I gestured with my hand for him to pull it out and he shook his head. Then he continued around the house, finding another one in the kitchen under a cabinet and one in my dad’s office, attached to his small desk fan. The family room caused some issues because of the television, but he ultimately said it was fine, as well as all of the rooms upstairs.

  “I’m calling the police,” I whispered.

  He shook his head and whispered back. “Not yet.” He held out his hand. “Your phone?”

  My phone? My hands shook as I put in the password and handed it to him. I made sure he couldn’t see what I typed, but I got the impression he could figure it out if he wanted. He spent a few minutes looking at my phone, clicking around to different apps on the home screen. “It’s clean,” he said.

  I went into the living room and dialed Norma. This investigation was getting odder every day.

  * * * *

  Of course, Norma had to see them for herself. “What the actual hell?” she said quietly, when I pointed to the bug in the dining room. Wizard had made sure to be gone when she got there, but I assumed Tod could reach him if he was needed.

  Norma had brought along a crime scene investigator who treated them as evidence, which of course they were. He placed numbers by them, took a million photos, and then ripped them out and put them in plastic evidence bags.

  We stayed quiet until the last one was packed away and then Norma and I sat down in the now bug-free dining room. “You ever been bugged?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “Not as far as I know.”

  “It’s a creepy feeling,” I said. “I keep wondering what I’ve talked about around them, what my dad has talked about—” My voice hitched. “Elliott.”

  Norma grabbed my hand. “We’ll get him,” she said.

  I nodded, and tried to push back the anxiety that was pressing against the back of my throat, like a scream that wanted to come out. Then I took a deep breath, and told her the latest from Jaxon. Again, without telling her who was giving me the information.

  “You know, this BMW has come up a few times,” I said. “I saw a black BMW at Benson’s and Jaxon mentioned the scary dude drove a luxury car. She said a Mercedes but maybe it was really a BMW.”

  “Could be,” she said. “There’s too many of them here. I can’t do much with it until we get more.” She seemed frustrated, like she felt that was important too. “Supposedly, the president of A&D, that Ian Luther, really is on vacation. And no one there is authorized to talk to us.”

  “Could you hear anything on Steven’s tape?” I asked.

  She nodded. “We have a man’s voice saying Benson was making a mistake. It sounded threatening but the DA said even if we find the guy, it’s not enough. We have to prove he actually did something.”

  My dad came into the dining room. “I gotta lunch date with Annie.” He looked at the chandelier and shook his head. “You gotta get a new hobby,” he said.

  * * * *

  The second performance of The Lion King was even better than the first, but I was having a hard time enjoying it. Gemma had brought Kai.

  “Surprise!” Kai ran up to Joss and me while we waited in line to get in. She hopped up and down in excitement. “My mom said we could come! I get to see Elliott be Zazu again!”

  Then Gemma joined us, smiling and looking gorgeous. Whatever she did to her eyes was magical.

  Joss introduced us again, seeming to forget we’d already met at my house.

  “That’s nice of you to bring Kai again,” I said.

  “Oh she loves these things,” she said. “I couldn’t let her miss it.”

  Gemma and Kai were in the row behind us, and I spent the whole first act forcing myself not to turn around and see if she was watching us, especially when Joss put his arm along the back of my seat.

  Luckily, Quincy was also there, giving me a buffer during intermission. He’d brought his extended family, including eight grandchildren. The adults were in a celebratory mood and kept telling me how very impressed they were with the young actors. The grandchildren were entranced by the animal puppets, of course.

  “You missed seeing the video of the progress,” he said.

  “What happened?” I aske
d. “Did Red fall for it?”

  “Hook, line and sinker.” He looked around and pulled out his phone, clicking on a link. “Here he is going into the lab. And here he is in the waiting room.”

  I squinted. “It looks so real.”

  “QP Diagnostics at your service,” he said.

  “You can see it another time with the sound on,” he said. “The man said some vulgar things about DNA samples.”

  “Ugh,” I said. “I don’t need to hear that.”

  We could see the receptionist check his driver’s license and then take a very official-looking DNA kit out of a metal cabinet. She swabbed the inside of Red’s cheek, carefully putting the oversized Q-tip back in the bag, sealing it, and giving Red a receipt. “What’s that?”

  “It has the same number as on the bag, so he can make sure he got the correct paperwork when his results show up,” Quincy explained.

  We watched him saunter out of the lab, with an expression on his face indicating that everything was going his way.

  “Oh man,” I said. “It’ll be nice for Zoey to have him out of her life, forever.”

  I decided not to tell Quincy about the bugs. He didn’t need something else to worry about, and this definitely wasn’t the time or place.

  Chapter 18

  The next day, Elliott and I stopped by Chubby’s Pizza to pick up the lunch order for the cast. I’d skipped the farmers’ market so I could see the Saturday matinee performance, and also pitch in to help a bit.

  While we were waiting for the last couple of pizzas to be boxed up, my nutritional pyramid scheme buddy came in. He immediately looked guilty and wished he could turn around and leave.

  “Oh sorry I didn’t get to the farmers’ market again,” he said.

  “That’s okay.” I laughed. “I’m not there today either.” I introduced him to Elliott. “Drake, right?”

  They shook hands.

  “Drake bought some Meowio food for his cat,” I told Elliott.

  “Yeah,” Drake said, sounding apologetic. “Digger liked it, but, you know.”

  I’d run into this many times. People had their cat try my food and either the cat didn’t like it, which was rare, or the owner didn’t want to pay more for their cat’s food. Then they were embarrassed to talk to me.

  “No problem,” I said. “You are under no obligation to buy my products.”

  He still looked sheepish. “Thanks for being so kind. Hey, you guys want to eat here instead of takeout? My treat.”

  “No,” I said. “But thank you.” The cashier arrived with the first six boxes. “Taking these to a bunch of hungry kids.”

  “Have fun,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you at the ol’ Chubb-meister again sometime.”

  “Chubb-meister?” Elliott said, once we were out of earshot.

  I laughed. “He’s the pushy salesman type. They have their own lingo.”

  We loaded up the car with the help of the cashier and I drove slowly to the high school. The drama kids attacked the pizzas, eating more than I thought possible. Then it was a rush to clean everything up, including faces and hands, before putting the costumes on and taking to the stage.

  Norma sent me a text. When you’re done with the show, can I stop by so you can listen to Steven’s recording?

  I texted back. Sure, but I’m stuck here until after tonight’s show. Want to stop by during the dinner break?

  That works, she texted back. I’ll bring sandwiches.

  * * * *

  Norma came through, bringing overstuffed sandwiches from Load It Up Subs on Main Street, turkey for me and roast beef for her. As always, I assumed that I’d never be able to eat that much food and less than half an hour later, the whole delicious thing was gone.

  We sat in her car, the steady rain making me feel like we were cut off from the rest of the world. She played an enhanced version of the recording. Some of it was still muffled, but plenty of it was clear.

  “What do you want?” Benson said. “I have a student waiting.”

  “… change your mind.”

  I looked up at Norma and she shook her head, indicating that something was still missing.

  “Look, I have to do it. My reputation is taking a beating. All he had to do was stick to our agreement.” Benson’s voice sounded resentful but determined.

  The next sound was just a murmur.

  “It is a big deal!” Benson said. “Look, I’m pulling it and you can’t do anything about it. You shouldn’t even be here.”

  The response was clear. “We’ll see about that.” The tone was definitely menacing.

  “Yikes,” I whispered.

  “Look, I’ll give you the money back.”

  The answer was muffled but something along the lines of not wanting the money back, and then more of something I couldn’t make out.

  Benson said loudly, “Don’t threaten me.” Then, a door slammed.

  Norma turned off the recording. “The next student came in, saw that the recorder was still running, and turned it off. She also overheard the tone of the argument but couldn’t make out any words. And Benson was sweaty and angry during her lesson, and apparently, ‘even meaner’ than normal.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “All you have to do is match the voice with a suspect and you have him.”

  “That’s not necessarily true,” she said. “We have proof that he was threatening Benson, but that’s not enough.”

  “But it matches up to the rumors Tabitha, the other oboe teacher, heard. That Benson was paid for a good recommendation and that the student went back on their deal. It sounds like Benson was going to do something about it.”

  “Do you recognize the voice?” Norma asked.

  I thought about it and shook my head. “There’s a certain quality, I guess that is the best way to describe it, that sounds familiar. But I can’t place it at all.”

  Her expression didn’t change. “We’re sending the recording off to the FBI. They have better equipment. We’ll see what they can capture.”

  “Did you find out anything about the bugs?” I asked, the word still making me shiver.

  Norma shook her head. “Same as the GPS tracker. Military grade equipment but nothing traceable.”

  She looked over my shoulder at the same time someone knocked on the door. I jumped and turned, almost dropping my soda and making Norma laugh.

  “Mom?” Elliott asked. “What are you doing out here?” He was wearing his hood up over his head to protect himself from the rain. “You’re on backstage duty.”

  I opened the window an inch. “I’ll be in soon.”

  He frowned and went back to the theater.

  “Does he know about all this?” Norma asked.

  “No,” I said. “I’ll figure out what to tell him when his show is over.”

  * * * *

  Trouble’s snarling announced that Charlie the chicken had come to visit, right before the “Yankee Doodle Dandy” doorbell rang. Luckily my dad was already sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and reading the Sunday paper, and Elliott was sleeping so hard, nothing could wake him up.

  Charlie was alone this time and I walked him back to the farm, skirting the puddles that remained from last night’s rain.

  My dad’s neighbor, Horace, waved from his front porch. “Good morning,” he called out. He was holding a glass that I knew was filled with iced tea sweetened with as much sugar as a bowl of Fruit Loops.

  Charlie heard him and took a detour, heading straight for Horace’s doorbell. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a conveniently placed planter to hop on and get up to it. Charlie tilted his head back and forth, feathers drooping into his eyes, and then gave up.

  Horace shook his head. “He does the same thing every time.” He leaned over to scratch Charlie’s head and added affectionately, “Bird brain.
” Then he looked up at me. “You going to see those baby goats?”

  “Yep,” I said. “They’re the cutest.”

  “Maybe I can go with you,” he said.

  “Sure.” I helped him up out of his wooden rocking chair, and he held onto my arm walking down the steps.

  Horace had once been almost six feet tall but age had shrunken him to my height. He always wore a tank top with overalls, even when it was chilly, claiming that the weather didn’t affect him much.

  “How are things going with your fella’?” he asked as we slowly made our way the rest of the block to the farm.

  “Doing good,” I said.

  “You sure?” he asked.

  What did that mean? “I think so, why?”

  “That ex-wife of his bin showin’ her face.” He sounded like he didn’t want to gossip but wanted to warn me. “She’s there now.”

  I stopped still. “Like, arrived this morning? Or…?”

  He nodded. “Bright and early this morning. Then the next thing I see is that chicken running down the road.”

  It took me a few steps to realize what he was hinting at. “Wait. Do you think Gemma set Charlie loose so he’d go get me? On purpose?”

  He shrugged with a don’t ask me expression.

  We resumed walking. “Interesting,” I said. “Let’s see what she’s up to.”

  Sure enough, when we arrived, Gemma was standing next to Joss. As we got closer, I could see that she was showing him photos on her camera, and then she full-on leaned her body against his. I put Charlie back in his pen, noting that the gate was open, so I closed it. I guess Gemma didn’t know that Charlie didn’t need an open gate to escape.

  Joss moved to the side, away from Gemma. She actually looked over her shoulder to make sure I was there and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Well, isn’t this a nice spectacle?” Horace murmured.

  Even though I knew the whole scene was directed toward me, like some kind of soap opera, I had to subdue my knee-jerk reaction to pull her arms off of Joss’s neck and maybe off of her body. And then I had to subdue my second knee-jerk reaction, which was to turn around and escape without seeing Joss’s reaction.