Dead Is a Killer Tune

by Marlene Perez

  Where could someone hide in a dollhouse? Then I realized that, because of the wishing powder, he could have simply opened the door and left.

  “There’s no way Natalie knew about this,” Eva said. “It’s a magical dollhouse.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “This didn’t happen until I spilled some of that indigo powder in there. What should I do?”

  “Call Natalie,” Eva suggested. “She’s a witch, right? She should be able to help.”

  I tried her number, but it went straight to voice mail.

  A moment later, two miniature knights began to battle in the garden.

  I tried Natalie’s number again, but there was no answer. “It’s no use,” I said. “I’m going to have to call Selena.”

  Selena was the only other witch I knew and I was desperate.

  When I called her and told her I needed help, she said, “This better be good,” and then hung up on me.

  Selena looked unbelievably good for early morning. Her blond hair was perfectly flat-ironed, and she wore denim jeans and a jade top with a matching jade necklace.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Eva and I pointed to the dollhouse.

  Selena peeked into the princess’s bedroom, and the little doll screamed, “Sorceress!”

  “How did this happen?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. Denial was the best option.

  Selena continued to question us. “Where did you get the dollhouse?”

  “In Natalie’s attic,” Eva said.

  She ran a finger along the floor of the ballroom and it came back stained blue.

  She held it to her nose and sniffed. “Wishing powder,” she said. “Very rare. I don’t suppose you know anything about that, either?”

  “Wishing power?” Eva said. “You mean I could sprinkle some of that stuff and wish for anything I wanted?”

  “Pretty much,” she said. “But as with any magic, the wish may come with a price. This stuff can be dangerous.”

  “I wish—” Eva started to say, but Selena and I both yelled “No!” at the same time.

  “It’s worth a small fortune,” Selena said. “Do you have any more of it?”

  I didn’t answer her question. I wanted to give the wishing powder back to Natalie and be done with it as soon as Selena reversed the spell.

  “The dollhouse was like this when I woke up this morning,” I said. It was true.

  “I’m going to have to do some research,” she said.

  “Another amateur!” the princess shrieked.

  Selena rolled her eyes. “I’ll call you if I find out anything.”

  As she started to walk away, I had second thoughts. “Actually,” I said, “I don’t think we’ll need you to reverse the spell after all, Selena.” The princess had warned that it wasn’t a job for a beginner, and I didn’t want to mess anything up worse than it already was.

  “Are you serious?” Selena said. “Thanks for getting me out of bed early on a day off from school.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “You can’t tell anyone. Not even your aunt.”

  “I promise,” she replied before storming away. I imagined that Selena’s aunt, sorceress Circe Silvertongue, would love to get her hands on wishing powder, but she wasn’t the only one. Hunter wanted something badly enough to break into the Mason house. Had he been looking for the wishing powder?

  Although I’d gotten used to Flo’s grueling training sessions, I also liked to run on my own. After Eva left, I went for a run to clear my head. I put on my headphones and turned my MP3 player to my favorite running playlist. Nobody but me had to know there were several Side Effects May Vary songs on it.

  The Hamlin followers had set up camps all over the park, but my favorite route took me away from the most crowded sections.

  My mind drifted as the miles went by. I ended my run, did a quick cooldown, and then lay under an oak tree and gulped down a bottle of water.

  “Your mom thought I might find you here,” Dominic said.

  “Here I am.” I was hot and sweaty, and he looked immaculate in a formfitting blue T-shirt that matched his eyes and faded blue jeans.

  I waited for him to say something else, but he just stood there. Finally, I said, “I didn’t think singers got up this early.”

  He acknowledged my weak joke with a polite smile. “I wanted to talk to you without anyone else around.”

  My heart gave a thud, but I steadied my breathing. “What’s up?”

  “My Aunt Katrina has been acting strange. She’s been seeing that guy Brett.”

  I nodded. “Maybe she’s in love.”

  “Brett is a complete doofus,” Dominic replied. “He calls me ‘sport.’”

  “At least it’s not ‘buddy.’”

  Dominic laughed, a real laugh this time. “You heard his songs, though. All of this really whiny stuff about the father who abandoned him. It seems like he’s fishing for sympathy.”

  Since Dominic’s mom had abandoned him and Raven, I wondered if those songs hit too close to home. “Lyrics aside, Hamlin’s music is just really bad,” I said. “Your aunt usually has really good taste in music. I’m surprised she’d be so into them.”

  “Do you think it’s strange that she likes him?”

  I hesitated. “There’s someone for everyone,” I said. “But I had a weird feeling about the whole day at the mall.”

  “Did your tattoo warn you?” he asked.

  “My tattoo hasn’t budged lately,” I said. Dominic’s mom and sister were both viragos, so I didn’t feel like I was spilling any trade secrets.

  It was nice to have someone to talk to about it, but I was boring him. He stared off into space for so long that I finally cleared my throat.

  “That doesn’t mean there’s not something going on,” I pointed out.

  “I’m worried,” he admitted. “Last night at practice, I sang ‘Masquerade.’ That’s a Backstreet Boys song.” The disbelief in his voice made me giggle, but I stopped quickly when I saw his expression.

  “That’s not in your usual set list,” I said.

  “Do you think it’s a clue?”

  “It could be,” I said cautiously. The thought of spending time crime-solving with him kind of freaked me out. “What does Raven think?”

  “I haven’t talked to her about it yet. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

  I changed the subject. “What are you guys going to do about finding a replacement for Jeff?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “My Aunt Katrina knows this guy, but he’s on tour until next month.”

  Dominic obviously just wanted to be friends and I wanted—well, I couldn’t have what I wanted. The wisest thing seemed to be to avoid him, but I couldn’t ignore it if Katrina was walking into danger, either.

  “What does Raven think about what’s going on with your aunt?”

  “She thinks it’s just a crush,” Dominic said. “But I’m worried. Aunt Katrina’s husband died a few years ago and she hasn’t dated much since.”

  “You don’t want to see her get hurt,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “But you can’t stop that,” I told him. “Someone always gets hurt.”

  As if to illustrate my point, Brett Piper chose that moment to arrive at the park with a woman on each arm. Women who were not Katrina. A roadie followed behind Brett, carrying his guitar.

  Dominic’s gaze followed mine. “I can’t believe it. That worm.”

  I put a hand on his arm. “Wait and see what happens.”

  “Welcome, disciples of Hamlin,” Brett said. All the Hamlin fans stopped whatever they were doing and surrounded him.

  “Oh, brother,” Dominic said, but I shushed him.

  Brett walked among the people like he was some kind of god.

  “Sing for us, Brett,” someone said.

  “Dear god no,” I whispered. Dominic choked back a laugh.

  “I do happen to have my guitar with me,” Brett said. />
  Of course he did.

  He snapped his fingers. “Hal, my guitar please.” A roadie handed him the instrument.

  “I don’t think I can take another Brett performance,” Dominic said.

  Brett glanced our way and Dominic and I ducked behind a large oak tree. We huddled together. Our hands touched and neither of us moved away.

  I cleared my throat. “Do you think he saw us?” I asked in a whisper.

  “I don’t know,” Dominic replied. “But why are we hiding?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But I have a feeling something is up.” My tattoo had given a halfhearted little whirl and then stopped.

  But I figured it out a little while later when Brett’s performance ended and an older guy in an immaculate suit walked up to him. What was Mitch Peverell doing here?

  I moved closer to hear what they were saying.

  “Are you sure this is worth it?” Brett asked.

  “Of course it’s worth it,” Mr. Peverell said. “Look around you. They love you. You’re a star. And it’s my job to make sure you stay in the spotlight. Whatever it takes.”

  What exactly was Mr. Peverell willing to do for his client?

  Chapter Nine

  Friday night, Eva and I went to see more bands perform. The weather had cooperated and the park had been transformed into a concert venue, complete with food and drink kiosks.

  Eva and I stopped at a booth selling T-shirts. She bought a Battle of the Bands tee and I opted for a Wet Noodles for Three tee.

  Dominic and Raven were already there, sitting at a table near the stage with some of the band. Katrina was with Brett Piper at a table for two.

  “Wanna go hang out with Raven?” Eva asked.

  “Sure,” I replied. “Raven’s our friend. Just because my relationship with her brother didn’t work out doesn’t mean we should avoid her.” As much as I wanted to stay away from Dominic until my sore heart healed, it didn’t look like it was going to happen.

  I thought sitting opposite Dominic would keep some distance between us, but instead, we were forced to look at each other.

  Dominic and the rest of the band were freaking out at the news that Jeff Cool would be out for at least six weeks. They were going to have to find someone to replace him and fast. They’d already performed in the first round of Battle of the Bands and received a top score, which was good news.

  As the band members hashed it out, a familiar girl approached the table.

  “Hi, Stella,” I said. “I wondered if I’d see you here.”

  “Hi, Jessica,” she said. “I like your T-shirt.” She gestured at my new purchase.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Is your band playing tonight?”

  “No,” she said. “There’s been an accident. Didn’t you hear?”

  “Hear what?” Raven asked anxiously.

  Stella sighed. “Our guitarist, my sister Sheila, had to have like a hundred stitches.”

  “What happened?” Dominic asked.

  “She was juggling knives and dropped them,” Stella said.

  “Why was she juggling knives?” Eva asked.

  “Good question,” Stella answered. “Supposedly, Sheila doesn’t even remember why she did it.” She looked at her watch. “I better get home to help her change the bandages.” She wished the members of Side Effects May Vary good luck and left the park.

  “Pretty stupid thing to do right before the Battle of the Bands,” Raven said. “Especially since she’d never done anything like it before.”

  First Jeff and now Sheila. Was it just bad luck or something more sinister? It was Nightshade, so I was going to go with sinister.

  Eva nudged me. “I do love a man in uniform.”

  I looked over. Ryan Mendez stood there in a police officer’s uniform. I kept looking. He did wear it well.

  “I didn’t think he was through with his training yet,” I said.

  “He’s not,” Dominic said. “That’s a Guardian uni- form.”

  “What’s a Guardian?”

  He laughed. “Worried they’re horning in on virago territory? Don’t be. The Nightshade Guardians is a volunteer program for people in their late teens and early twenties who are interested in law enforcement. The new chief started it.”

  The Battle of the Bands got under way, and we turned our attention to the stage. The first two bands weren’t very impressive. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t advance to the next round. People in the audience started to drift away, but then Magic and Moonlight took the stage.

  “I didn’t know Connor’s band was playing,” I said.

  “You didn’t?” Dominic said in a suddenly snarky tone. “I thought that’s why you were here.”

  He sounded jealous. His sister gave him a look and then said, “Jessica can date anybody she wants, remember?”

  I was relieved when the music started. Connor did sound good, and he was getting more comfortable onstage. In fact, he had his own group of admirers, who stood next to the stage and screamed his name every other second.

  After the set ended, I said, “I could use a soda. Anybody want anything?”

  “I’ll go with you,” Dominic said.

  We were in line when I spotted Mitch Peverell handing out Hamlin buttons. Dominic nudged me. “Want me to get you one?”

  “I prefer Side Effects May Vary, thanks,” I said.

  A girl in front of us heard me and turned around. “Me too!” she squealed. She didn’t seem to recognize the lead singer standing next to me, but Dominic’s hair was covered by a beanie and he wore sunglasses.

  Mr. Peverell came over and handed her a button. “Have you heard Hamlin?” he asked.

  She sent me a panicked look, but nodded to him politely. “Yes.”

  “What do you like about the other band?” he asked. “Jeff Cool?”

  “N-not really,” she stuttered.

  “But I was told that Jeff wrote all the songs for Side Effects May Vary,” Mr. Peverell persisted. “And that he’s the leader of the group.”

  Dominic snorted, but didn’t comment.

  “Side Effects May Vary plays covers,” I said. “And Jeff isn’t the leader of the group. Katrina Phillips is.”

  “Hmm,” Mr. Peverell replied. “Good to know.”

  “And all the girls go to see the lead singer, Dominic Gray,” the girl in front of us said.

  “Interesting.” Mr. Peverell handed me a button. “Here, take one,” he said, before he hurried off to catch his next victim.

  I waited until he was out of sight before pitching it right into the recycling bin. “What is with that guy?”

  “He’s pretty intense,” Dominic said. “But he’s good at what he does. Hamlin was completely unknown until he signed them. Now everyone says they’re the next big thing. If they win the Battle of the Bands, there will be no stopping them.”

  “That’s a scary thought,” I replied. We walked back to the table in silence, but I couldn’t help thinking that there was a lot at stake for the musicians in Nightshade right now.

  Chapter Ten

  The Battle continued over the next week, but I had other things on my mind. Like that I hadn’t practiced enough. I decided to take the guitar Dominic had given me to my lesson. Ms. Minerva didn’t answer the first or second time I rang the doorbell. She scheduled exactly five minutes between lessons. I checked my watch. I was on time, which was a relief. If I wasn’t, she’d boot me out in a second. Ms. Minerva had no tolerance for tardiness.

  I couldn’t hear anyone else playing, and the house was silent and dark. It was almost unheard of, but my normally punctual guitar teacher appeared to be running late. I sat in a chair on her front porch and waited. It was an uncomfortable wooden chair with a high straight back. Ms. Minerva probably didn’t want to encourage lounging around.

  I waited about ten minutes, but there was no sign of her. I was worried that something had happened to her. I rang the doorbell again and finally pounded on the door.

  Then I remem
bered that Connor’s lesson was usually right before mine. I pulled out my cell and called him. He answered on the first ring.

  “Jessica, I was just getting ready to call you.”

  “I’m at Ms. Minerva’s, but she’s not answering.”

  “That’s what I was going to call you about. I hung around for half an hour, but she never showed.”

  “That’s not like her,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “Maybe we should call someone.”

  My whirlwind tattoo began to tingle. Something was wrong.

  “Connor, I’ll call you back.” I hung up the phone and ran to the backyard. I peered through the sliding glass door into her living room. The room was filled with smoke and Ms. Minerva was stretched out on the couch, not moving. She could die if I didn’t do something.

  The door was cool to the touch and unlocked. I opened it and squeezed through. Much of the smoke escaped through the open door, but I couldn’t see any obvious source of fire.

  I checked for a pulse and was relieved to find she was breathing.

  Finally, I realized the smoke came from the stove in the kitchen. I turned off the oven and cracked all the windows.

  I spotted a fish tank by a kitchen window and gasped. I hoped her fish hadn’t died from the smoke. I looked in and was glad to see the fish still swimming around. There was something floating in the water and I scooped it out with a net.

  It was a guitar pick. I dried it off on my shirt and put it in my pocket. I went back to check on Ms. Minerva. This time, she stirred when I touched her and then sat up. “Jessica, what are you doing here?” She yawned and stretched.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Just a little tired,” she said. “I must have dozed off. I was baking brownies for that nice young man.”

  “What nice young man?” I asked, but she ignored the question.

  “How did you get inside?” Her gaze sharpened with suspicion.

  “I had a lesson at four,” I said. “You didn’t answer the door, so I came around back and saw you lying there.”

  She put a hand to her head. “I was having such a nice chat,” she said. “He played for me. Quite well, in fact, but I didn’t recognize the music. I decided to bake brownies, but then I fell asleep.”