A Chorus Lineup (A Glee Club Mystery)

by Charbonneau, Joelle

  Huh. By the time I’d left the hotel to go shopping with Millie, Larry hadn’t received that kind of phone call. If someone hadn’t been dead, I’d have been put out by the lack of notification. A body count put things in perspective.

  Thinking about that body, I asked, “Do you know if she was the kind to carry only her keys and wallet? The police haven’t been able to find her purse.” I glanced around the lot. Two of the three cars that had been parked in front earlier were there now. The third was gone.

  “LuAnn took that purse everywhere with her.” Christine sighed. “It was something of a running joke at the local competitions. If any of the kids needed a Band-Aid or something to remove a stain, they looked for LuAnn and her magic bag. She would never have left the hotel without her purse. Maybe it got jostled by the accident and went under the seat of her car.”

  Considering the suitcase nature of the purse, that would have to be a really big seat. If the cops were going to check, they would first have to find LuAnn’s vehicle. Since that was their job, not mine, I assured myself that Christine was steady on her feet and made a beeline for Aunt Millie’s car.

  Despite the fact the cops were on the case, I couldn’t stop thinking about LuAnn and the scene of the accident we’d just left. If it was an accident. As much as I wanted to believe it was (because the other option was a whole lot worse), I couldn’t get the problem of LuAnn’s car and her missing purse out of my mind.

  LuAnn’s car wasn’t in the parking lot of the theater, which meant she must have copped a ride. But if that was the case, she would never have left her purse behind. And more disturbing, why was LuAnn in the back of the theater to begin with? To meet me? Maybe, but then why was she near the loading dock instead of waiting in the front? There was something not quite right about all of this.

  Perhaps it was the strange turn my life had taken in the last couple of months, bringing me in contact with Detective Kaiser, that made me think that LuAnn’s death was more than just a terrible twist of fate. My stomach was tied in knots as Millie tooled her car into the hotel parking lot, and for once it wasn’t due to my aunt’s overly aggressive driving. It was because I thought I had once again happened onto the scene of a murder.

  Oh help.

  Millie and I carried bags of sparkly ties and other potentially useful accessories to my room. The hallway was strangely quiet (especially considering how many teenagers were in the surrounding rooms) when I opened the door and almost walked into a trumpet case.

  Damn. I’d thought Devlyn, Larry, or Jim would have supervised the loading of the instruments back in my room. I’d assumed wrong.

  Millie offered to help move cases, but I turned her down. As much as I appreciated the offer, I wanted to be alone. Besides, as much as my aunt acted as if she was unaffected by our adventure, I could see sadness and strain in her eyes. She needed time to recover. Thank goodness Aldo and Killer would be there to give her whatever comfort she needed.

  After giving my aunt a tight hug, I sent her away and then stared at the pile of cases in front of me. Instead of getting to work, I leaned against the closet door and closed my eyes. The emotions I’d held at bay since being questioned by Officer Durbin stormed back. My throat tightened. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. I could barely breathe as I remembered the way LuAnn looked as I tried to pump air into her body.

  The sound of a key card sliding into the lock and the door handle being pushed made my eyes fly open. I didn’t think. I cocked my arm back, turned, and let it fly. The bags in my hand swung around. By the time I registered the target was Devlyn, it was too late.

  He tried to duck and failed, which was why the bags made contact with his head instead of his arm and shoulder. Oops. Luckily, the bags were filled with lightweight stuff. Devlyn had once told me he’d had several concussions during his football-playing high school days. I’d hate to be the one to give him another. I’d had a concussion recently, and it was zero fun.

  “Sorry,” I said, dropping the bags. “Are you okay? I forgot you had a key.” I’d also just seen a dead body, but I figured I’d get to explaining that part later.

  Devlyn rubbed his left ear and laughed. “I’m glad you didn’t swing at me for leaving this mess in your room.”

  I looked at the instrument cases and went from apologetic to bummed that I’d dropped the bags in two seconds flat. “This was intentional?”

  Devlyn leaned against the exit door and grinned. “Well, the kids piled the instruments like this on their own, but I let them. I figured helping you restack them gave me a great excuse to spend time in here with you.”

  Okay, that was kind of sweet.

  Devlyn pushed away from the wall, stepped around the trumpet case, and gave me a smile that normally made my toes curl. Tonight, it made my bottom lip quiver and the tears start to flow. To Devlyn’s credit, he didn’t say anything when I wrapped my arms around him, put my head on his chest, and started to sob. The more I tried to stop crying, the harder the tears fell. Tears for LuAnn. Tears for her daughter and her family, who had to have heard the news of LuAnn’s death by now. And a whole lot more sniffles and sobs for the kids who knew and worked with LuAnn. No matter whether they liked her or not, they were going to feel the echo of her death in their lives.

  And yes, there were tears shed for me. I’d tried my best to save LuAnn, but I felt guilty for not being able to do more. And I couldn’t help wondering whether if I had reported the strange phone call to the police earlier today, that could have prevented what had happened. I doubted it. Officer Durbin’s reaction to the call had been pretty telling. Still, I wished I had tried.

  The right side of Devlyn’s shirt was wet and my nose was running when the tears finally ran their course. I was also incredibly embarrassed. A really sexy guy had come to spend time with me and I had just cried all over him for no reason. Okay, I had a great reason, but he didn’t know that. He must have thought I’d come completely unhinged.

  Keeping my head down so Devlyn wouldn’t have to see my red, blotchy face and my leaking nose, I apologized and made a dash for the bathroom.

  Crap. I cracked my toe on the trumpet case, tripped, and went flying. Ouch. I smacked my arm on the doorframe to the bathroom, but at least I wasn’t flat on my backside. That was something, right?

  Rubbing my elbow, I looked at the floor to make sure there weren’t any other obstacles and grabbed a tissue from the bathroom.

  Yowzah.

  A glance in the mirror told me I was right about one thing. I was a mess. My nose was drippy. My eyes were red and swollen, and even Millie and her talent with cosmetics couldn’t erase the blotchiness from my skin. Unhinged was a bad look for me.

  “Hey,” Devlyn said from the doorway. His eyes met mine in the mirror, and I could see the concern in them. Yep, I was a wreck. “What’s going on? Did you and Millie have a fight?”

  I dabbed at my eyes and swiped the tissue under my nose to catch any wayward drips before turning toward Devlyn. “Millie and I found a dead body.”

  “You’re kidding.” Devlyn smiled. When I shook my head, the smile faded. “You’re not kidding? How did you run into a dead body?”

  “Technically, we didn’t run into her. Someone else did. Or maybe they didn’t.” The more I thought about it, the more I wondered whether the car was the only contributor to LuAnn Freeman’s death.

  “I’m confused.”

  Of course he was. “Sorry,” I said, taking another tissue. “Why don’t we sit down and I’ll tell you about it.”

  Conversations about death were creepy. Holding that conversation in the bathroom took the strange factor to a whole new level. Of course, I wasn’t sure chatting in what currently looked like a mismanaged warehouse was a better idea.

  “On second thought,” I said, “why don’t we rearrange these cases while I talk.”

  It turned out that despite my swollen toe, th
e crappy instrument storage by the band was a good thing. Shifting and stacking cases made it easier to tell Devlyn about the night’s events.

  When I was done, Devlyn stopped stacking a drum case and stared at me. “LuAnn Freeman? The same LuAnn who accused you of sabotaging the other choirs?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Devlyn stacked the last two instrument cases in front of the bed by the window and said, “Well, it’s a good thing the cops don’t know about that or they might not have been so willing to rule her death an accident.” He slapped the dust off his hands, turned, took one look at my face, and sighed. “You told them?”

  “If I didn’t, someone else would have,” I said, taking a seat on my bed. “Now when someone else mentions it, the police won’t wonder what I was trying to hide.”

  “I hate that you have a point.” Devlyn sat down next to me and linked his fingers through mine. “I also hate that you can talk so calmly about the cops interviewing people and potentially looking at you as a suspect.”

  Devlyn had a short memory considering I’d just had a massive meltdown fifteen minutes ago. I leaned back on the pillow and closed my eyes. “So far, it appears that LuAnn’s death was an accident. Besides, I was with Aunt Millie when it happened. I couldn’t have a better alibi.”

  People remembered pink cars. Millie had a stack of tickets to prove it.

  “Well, it’s a good thing this was an accident and you won’t need it. Right?” Devlyn’s fingers tightened on mine. I opened my eyes to find his watching me with a steely intensity. “You don’t think this was an accident.”

  “I think that a lot of unusual things happened today and it would be a pretty big coincidence if LuAnn was involved in all of them.” I was, too, which was something I was having a hard time ignoring.

  “Well, it’s good the police are investigating,” Devlyn said, sliding his arm around my shoulder.

  “That’s the thing,” I said as Devlyn placed a kiss on my neck. “The officer I talked to wasn’t interested in hearing anything that suggested LuAnn’s death wasn’t an accident. I mean, I know that my getting a phone call from an unknown number telling me to meet them at the theater or else could have been a high school prank, but—”

  “You got a what?”

  Oops. I’d missed that part. “I got the call when I was talking to Megan. Then Millie came to talk to me and I forgot about it until we were driving near the theater. We decided to drive by just in case the call wasn’t a joke.”

  Devlyn pulled his arm back and stood. “You and your aunt thought it was a good idea to meet someone who threatened you at an empty theater after dark?”

  When you put it that way . . .

  “We didn’t plan on getting out of the car.”

  “You didn’t plan on finding a dead woman, either.” Devlyn raked a hand through his hair and paced the rug. “Look, I know that you have a hard time staying on the sidelines when something unusual happens, but we aren’t in Prospect Glen and Mike isn’t here to bail you out if you tick off the cops.”

  “I don’t need Mike to bail me out.”

  “I hope not, because the team and I need you to stay focused on what we’re here for.”

  The implication that I wasn’t focused stung. While this wasn’t the job I’d dreamed of my entire life, the past few months had taught me two things. One, I liked it more than I expected. And two, I was damn good at it.

  “The team doesn’t have to worry and neither do you. Now, if I’m going to teach a master class and keep the team on track tomorrow, I guess I should get some sleep.” I brushed past Devlyn and opened the door.

  Devlyn stood there for a moment. Then he sighed. “Look.” He glanced down the hall before brushing my cheek with his hand. “At least promise me you’ll talk to me before you do anything crazy.”

  When I didn’t say anything, he brushed his lips against my forehead and waited as if giving me one last chance to let him stay. Part of me was tempted to close the door and let him help me forget LuAnn’s sightless eyes and the nagging sense of guilt I felt over her death. I had a feeling Devlyn would be very good at making a girl forget. But if our relationship had any hope of a future, we couldn’t take that kind of step now. Not under these circumstances. I had to stand on my own two feet tonight. It was time for Devlyn to go.

  “Don’t forget to leave my key,” I said.

  Devlyn put his hand in his pocket, pulled out the blue card key, and placed it in my outstretched hand. With one last kiss on the cheek, he whispered, “I’m just down the hall if you need me.” Then out the door he went, leaving me alone with two thoughts.

  First, I really hoped LuAnn’s death was an accident. Second, seeing her stomping around in her boots one minute and dead the next reaffirmed one thing: You had to take opportunities when they came or there might never be a chance for them to come again. Tomorrow, I’d tell Devlyn and Larry that I had been offered an audition at the Lyric. More important, no matter what happened with the competition, I was going to take it.

  Chapter 9

  Of course, to have that discussion, I needed not only to get them alone but to get a word into the conversation. Larry had gotten a wake-up call from Christine McCann this morning informing him of LuAnn’s accident. She assured him that LuAnn’s death would not affect the competition schedule from moving forward. From the way Larry’s hair stood on end, the two distinctly different colors of his socks, and the stutter in his voice, it was clear that Larry hadn’t been sufficiently reassured.

  “Devlyn said you told him y-y-you found LuAnn. Are you okay? You l-l-look tired. Maybe you should cancel the master class,” Larry said, stabbing some of the hotel’s buffet breakfast pancakes with his fork. “After everything that h-h-happened yesterday with LuAnn, you should keep a low prof-f-file.”

  “Why don’t I check with Scott and see what he says about the master class?” So far, Larry and I were the only members of our group in the hotel’s breakfast area. The rest would be joining us soon. If I was going to tell him about Friday, now was the time. Taking a deep breath, I said, “But you might be right about keeping a low profile. You know, my manager called and there’s an audition—”

  “I still can’t believe LuAnn Freeman is dead.” Larry waved his fork, sending bits of food flying. “Did you know that she single-handedly kept this competition going the last couple of years?”

  I blinked. “I thought Christine McCann was in charge of this competition.” The bio I’d read said she’d taken the helm five years ago.

  “She is.” Larry poured more syrup on his pancakes. “But the competition was in a huge financial hole. There were lots of rumors that the whole thing was going to fold. A bunch of longtime coaches made noises about pitching in with fund-raisers, but nothing came of those. So LuAnn went out and found sponsors who were willing to keep the competition financially afloat.”

  Wow. “I didn’t realize you knew her.”

  Larry shook his head. “Just by reputation. People said she was a force to be reckoned with.”

  After watching her in action yesterday, I could see why.

  While Larry was sipping his coffee, I picked up a piece of bacon and steered the conversation back to my audition. “Larry, you know I love working with this team, but—”

  The rumble of a low growl made the hair on my neck stand on end. The growling grew louder and the click-click-click of nails on the polished gray tile told me the source was coming near.

  Slowly, I turned and came nose to nose with the fluffy white bane of my existence—Aunt Millie’s award-winning standard poodle Monsieur de Tueur de Dame. Translated into English: Mr. Lady Killer. Millie intended the name to be cute. I thought it was prophetic because the dog lived up to the shortened, more commonly used version of his name—Killer.

  Killer bared his teeth and growled again, sending a waft of dog breath in my direction. Ick. Kil
ler hadn’t brushed. The dog moved his snarling snout closer, nipped the bacon out of my hand, and devoured it before I had a chance to complain.

  “I love that the two of you are such good friends.” My aunt appeared behind Killer and patted the dog on his fuzzy head. Killer looked up at Millie with adoration and let out a burp. Killer now had bacon breath.

  “Did you sleep okay, Aunt Millie?” Every time I’d closed my eyes, I’d seen LuAnn’s face. That image hadn’t made for a good night’s sleep. My eyes felt grainy and had required more than a little cosmetic assistance to make me look as if I hadn’t been on an all-night bender. Millie, however, looked as if she’d spent time in a spa. Her rosy cheeks matched the color of her pants and lightweight spring sweater.

  “I slept like a baby.” My aunt’s eyes sparkled with happiness, and the smile that spread across her face as Aldo appeared next to her spoke loud and clear as to the reason why. I’d gone to bed alone last night, but Millie had not. While I was happy for her, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy. Despite her protests to the contrary, Millie had found someone to love who loved her back. I wanted that. More than I had realized.

  “I’m glad to hear you’re okay,” Larry said. “When P-P-Paige told me you were with her last night . . . Well, I know how I felt after I walked into the theater at the beginning of the school year and saw Greg Lucas dead. I didn’t s-s-sleep well for weeks.”

  Being a murder suspect and getting kidnapped probably had more to do with that, but what did I know.

  The sound of giggles and shouts to “wait up” announced the first arrivals of our team. Leaning close, Larry whispered, “When do you want to t-t-tell them?” Whispering was a good plan. Too bad when Larry stuttered, he tended to project his voice more than intended.

  “Tell us what?”

  Crap.

  Chessie walked up to Killer and scratched his head. I started to tell Chessie to be careful and got into position to shove her out of the way if and when Killer snarled or snapped. But the dog just plopped his pompon butt on the floor and nuzzled his head under Chessie’s hand for more attention. I wasn’t sure whom I considered the biggest traitor.