by Peg Cochran
“But the band played the song at Kelly’s wedding.”
“And Brian was furious with Travis for pulling that stunt.”
“Why didn’t Brian stop him?”
“It would have made more of a scene than letting the band finish the song. Besides, it wasn’t very likely that anyone in the audience would have recognized the similarity to that older song. People don’t much listen to the music at weddings—they’re too busy chatting and getting drunk.”
“I wonder why Travis did that. I mean, if he knew it would make Brian mad.”
Paislee fished around in her cosmetic bag and pulled out a tube of pale pink lipstick. “I think he wanted to thumb his nose at Brian. Travis considered himself the star of the band—which he was—but Brian was the manager. He put everything together, and without him, Travis would have been nothing but a pretty face and voice.”
“Do you know if Brian said something to Travis afterward about playing that song?”
“I’m pretty sure he did. He followed Travis outside of the barn as soon as the set ended.”
Was this the answer? Shelby wondered. Had Brian been so furious that he’d caught up with Travis, they’d argued, and Brian had hit him over the head before drowning him in the trough?
Shelby had found Brian to be very polite and pleasant, but plenty of murderers had charmed their victims into complacency. She shivered when she thought of Brian sitting down to breakfast with her and her kids. Had she served up scrambled eggs to a killer?
* * *
• • •
The group performed at least ten songs and gave a performance that had the audience on their feet, dancing in the aisles. Shelby even noticed a few teachers moving to the music.
When Jax and Paislee put their heads together for the romantic ballad Shelby had heard them practicing in the barn, the girls all looked as if they were about to swoon. Paislee was right—Travis had no need to steal music when he could write songs like this.
Shelby searched the audience for Amelia and Katelyn and found them in the front row, leaning forward, their faces glowing. It certainly looked as if their antibullying campaign kickoff was a huge success.
The concert ended and the audience burst into applause. The band members hopped off the stage as the principal walked out. It took him a while to get the audience’s attention—they were still so pumped up from the excitement of the concert.
Shelby left the auditorium through the double doors at the back. Matt was busy packing up the few cans of pop and bags of chips that hadn’t sold.
“It looks like you did a brisk business,” Shelby said.
Matt leaned over and dropped some bags of chips into a crate.
“I did. I think the girls have raised a tidy sum for the campaign.” He paused and looked at Shelby. “What are they going to do with the money?”
“They’re hoping to bring in some well-known speakers to talk at assemblies and have even discussed creating an antibullying public service announcement.”
“I’m impressed.” Matt smiled. “Sounds like they’ve got some excellent plans.”
“Something occurred to me while I was listening to the band,” Shelby said. “Actually right before the concert—when they were warming up and tuning their instruments.”
“Oh?”
Shelby explained about the song Peter had started to pick out on his guitar with Jax humming along.
“Brian went charging up to them. He seemed frantic to get them to stop.”
Matt raised his eyebrows. “That’s odd. I wonder why.”
“Paislee told me that a woman was threatening to sue the band because the melody of that particular song was taken from one she’d written quite a while ago. One Trick Pony recorded it. I heard it on the radio just the other day.”
“So someone plagiarized the music?”
Shelby nodded. “Apparently Travis did. He claimed he didn’t, but I don’t think Brian believed him. In any case, Brian felt it wasn’t worth the hassle of a lawsuit if that woman did decide to go ahead and sue. But Travis had the band play the song at Kelly’s wedding. Afterward, Brian followed Travis out of the barn. Paislee said he looked furious.”
“That doesn’t necessarily make him the killer, does it?”
“No, but Seth’s mother saw Brian arguing with Travis shortly before Travis was killed.”
Matt retrieved the handcart from where it had been leaning against the wall.
“I’m not sure what to do,” Shelby said as she helped Matt load the crates onto the cart.
“I think the best thing to do is to call your brother-in-law and give him that information. Let him take it from there. He’ll know what to do.”
“You’re right.” Shelby gave a sigh of relief and dug her cell phone out of her purse. She glanced at it. “I’m not getting any reception in here—I’d better go stand outside.”
As Shelby headed toward the doors exiting the school, she thought she saw a movement in the shadows, but when she looked again, nothing was there.
22
Dear Reader,
Cell phones can be so finicky, can’t they? Usually when you need them the most—when you’re stuck beside the highway with a flat tire and need to call a tow truck, or you’re running late for an important appointment and want to give the person a heads-up.
But I can assure you that incidents like that are mere blips on the radar compared to having your cell phone malfunction when you’re trying to call the police because a killer is after you.
Shelby stepped outside and was momentarily blinded by the sunlight. She blinked rapidly and put up a hand to shield her eyes.
She walked a short distance away from the school and squinted at her phone. Three bars—her call would go through.
She quickly dialed Frank’s number and prayed he would answer.
Frank picked up on the third ring. Shelby explained the information she’d put together and how she was convinced it all pointed to Brian.
“Where are you?” Frank asked, a sense of urgency in his voice.
“At Lovett High.”
“Stay out of sight until I get there. I’m on my way.”
The call clicked off and Shelby stuffed the phone into her pocket.
“Shelby!”
She heard someone call her name and spun around to see who it was. The person’s outline was fuzzy in the bright sun, but she recognized him anyway.
It was Brian.
He was smiling at Shelby, but she felt a chill snake its way down her spine. She started to walk away. Brian began to follow her, and she picked up her pace, glancing over her shoulder occasionally to see how close he was.
Shelby made her way around the side of the building, keeping to the shadows, alert for the clatter of footsteps in back of her. Her heart was beating so loud she was afraid it would drown out the sounds. She should have turned tail and run back into the school building, but it was too late now.
At one point, she thought she heard Brian right behind her but was too afraid to turn around and look.
By now she was running, her feet slapping against the ground with every step. She rounded the south corner of the building and found herself behind the school.
She had a stitch in her side and finally had to stop for a moment until the cramp eased, leaning over with her hands on her thighs. Brian was nowhere to be seen. Had he given up? Shelby wondered. Perhaps he really had only wanted to talk to her, and she’d blown things out of proportion? He might even now be wondering what on earth had gotten into her.
But Shelby doubted it. She had the feeling Brian knew that she had figured out he was the one who’d hit Travis over the head and drowned him in that old trough. And he must have been the one who’d strangled Cody, too.
She leaned against the building, the brick warm from the sun, the texture rough aga
inst her bare arms. If she could get back into the school building, she could blend into the crowd or even hide somewhere. By the time Brian found her, Frank would be there.
Shelby made her way along the perimeter of the building until she found a pair of double doors. She grabbed the handle of the first one and pulled, but it was locked. She checked the second one, and it swung open easily.
Warm, moist air wafted toward Shelby. She was in a section of the gym where an indoor pool dominated the room. A ceiling skylight cast a beam of light on the rippling water, where a lone red ball bobbed up and down. The volleyball net had come undone on one side and trailed across the width of the pool just under the surface of the water.
Shelby was making her way around the edge of the pool when a dark shadow was suddenly cast across the shimmering expanse of blue water. She whirled around to find Brian within arm’s reach behind her.
She gave a little cry and quickly took a step back. She hovered for a second at the edge of the pool, but the wet concrete was slippery and she lost her footing, falling backward into the water.
Shelby sank below the surface, her wet clothes dragging her down. Her foot touched the rough bottom of the pool and she kicked off, gasping as she finally broke the surface. At first, in a panic, she thrashed about in the water, but as she caught her breath, she was able to settle into the rhythm of treading water.
She’d barely gotten her breath back when there was a splash behind her as Brian jumped into the pool to join her. Shelby tried to scramble away from him, but he reached her quickly with two powerful strokes.
“What do you want with me?” Shelby cried.
“You know,” Brian said, swiping away the water streaming down his face.
“No. No, I don’t know. I don’t know anything,” Shelby said, attempting to maneuver away from him.
Fear and stress were making Shelby tired and her head dipped below the surface. Water went up her nose and stung her eyes, and she coughed and sputtered, trying to get air into her lungs.
Brian reached out and shoved her back under the water, holding her head down as she scrabbled frantically at his hands, trying to free herself.
Shelby felt pressure building painfully in her chest. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold her breath. She kicked out furiously, but none of her blows connected with Brian, and he didn’t loosen his grip.
Then Shelby had an idea. She would dive down even deeper—to the bottom of the pool—and away from Brian’s grasp.
It wasn’t easy—every fiber of her being was urging her to fight, but instead she resisted and let herself go limp instead. The pressure on her head eased, and Shelby was able to tuck in her chin and dive down and away from Brian.
She pulled herself along the bottom of the pool, away from Brian, until she could hold her breath no longer. She shot to the surface like a comet, gasping and inhaling huge lungfuls of precious air.
She had a moment of respite before Brian was on her again, forcing her head underwater once more, only this time he’d grabbed ahold of her shirt, making it impossible for Shelby to squirm away from him.
She felt panic overtake her and she flailed about wildly. Her frantic, grasping hands touched something floating in the water. At first, she wasn’t sure what it was, but then she realized it was the volleyball net. She reached out again and grabbed it firmly, using it as leverage to pull herself away from Brian. She felt her blouse give way and suddenly she was free of him.
Finally Shelby was above the surface of the water, breathing in great gulps of air. She felt dizzy from lack of oxygen but forced herself to concentrate. Brian was reaching for her again and Shelby had barely enough energy left to aim weak and futile kicks at him while attempting to move beyond his reach.
One of Brian’s hands closed around Shelby’s ankle. She tried to shake free but had no strength left.
Thoughts of Billy and Amelia crossed her mind. She couldn’t leave them all alone—she couldn’t. The thought gave her a burst of energy that coursed through her like electricity. She gritted her teeth and steeled herself to continue fighting.
She realized she was still grasping the volleyball net. With a surge of strength she lifted it out of the water and tossed it over Brian.
Shelby thought she would always remember the look of incredulity on his face. The more he struggled to free himself from the net, the more tangled he became. Shelby immediately struck out for the side of the pool. She had to pause a moment to gather her remaining strength to grasp the ladder and pull herself up the first step.
She heard a splash behind her and didn’t have to turn around to know that Brian had untangled himself from the net and was once again after her. She managed to haul herself up another step on the ladder before collapsing half on the concrete pool deck and half in the water. She dragged herself forward, barely conscious of the rough surface scraping her bare arms.
She could hardly move and suddenly her arms gave way, leaving her sprawled, panting, on the ground.
She felt a hand grab her foot and at the same time the doors to the pool room burst open and Frank, along with two patrolmen, barreled in. The patrolmen had their guns drawn and pointed at Brian.
“Let go of her, Brian,” Frank said.
23
Dear Reader,
I love happy endings. Don’t you?
The day channel WXYZ planned to shoot their cooking show at Love Blossom Farm with famed chef Michelle Martini dawned clear and bright with enough of a breeze to keep the day from becoming sweltering. And luck was with them and the breeze was blowing away from the farm, so the odor of manure from Jake’s pasture was being wafted away from them instead of toward them.
Shelby was up early and out in the garden with her wicker basket. The television producer had sent her a list of the vegetables and herbs they would need for Chef Martini’s segment.
As Shelby knelt on the damp ground to pick lettuce, she was struck by how thankful she was to be alive and safely back home. The ordeal with Brian had left her shaken, but she had resolved to put it behind her.
Brian had confessed to murdering Travis in a fit of anger when Travis refused to own up to having plagiarized the music to that song. If the original composer had gone ahead with her suit, it would have ruined not only Travis but all of them. Their names would be forever associated with the scandal.
Then Cody had tried to blackmail Brian. He had noticed the damp patches on Brian’s clothes the day Travis was killed, but it had taken him time to put two and two together. Brian had admitted that he’d planned to fire Cody—he’d had his fill of Cody and Paislee’s on-and-off-again romance and the fact that it was affecting their work.
Shelby had talked to Jessie, and Jessie had confirmed that Travis had indeed left her standing at the altar. But it hadn’t been because she and Jax were having an affair—that was a lie. Travis had just received word that he’d won a spot on America Can Sing, and he didn’t want to be hampered by a wife—it didn’t jibe with the image he wanted to project to the fans he was positive would soon be worshipping at his feet.
Shelby filled her basket with lettuce, a variety of herbs, and other produce that would be used during the show. Chef Martini would be shown on camera picking a few things herself, but there wouldn’t be time for her to harvest everything she needed.
Travis had certainly caused enough trouble for three people, Shelby thought as she carried her basket into the kitchen. It didn’t justify his murder, though. Nothing did.
* * *
• • •
A crew from the station arrived early to set up the tables and other equipment that would be needed for the demonstration. Felicity was there, too, standing with her arms crossed over her chest in the middle of all the action, ordering everyone around.
They’d decided to place the table in a grassy area with the tidy rows of Shelby’s lettuce showing in the back
ground. The location would also give viewers a glimpse of the barn where one of the murders had occurred. Felicity had assured Shelby that that alone would boost ratings of the show sky-high.
Shelby was to be introduced at the beginning of the segment as the owner of Love Blossom Farm and also as the blogger the Farmer’s Daughter. She and Kelly had spent several hours in front of her closet putting together the outfit she would wear on television.
“No stripes,” Kelly said. “They go all wavy on the screen. Oh, and no white or black or red either.”
“What’s left?” Shelby asked, standing by the bed with a discarded shirt in her hand.
“Blue. Blue is the safest color.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I looked it up on the Internet.”
“I want to look approachable,” Shelby said, eyeing the outfits laid out on the bed. “And maybe a little homey.”
“Not too homey. But not too sophisticated either,” Kelly said, squinting at Shelby’s pile of clothing. “How about your nice blue shirt tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a sharp crease? And your navy blue espadrilles,” Kelly said, pointing to a pair of shoes in the corner.
“Those are ancient,” Shelby protested.
“No one will know. They’re perfect for the outfit.”
Shelby’s hands shook a little as she donned the clothes Kelly had picked out for her. She’d never been in front of the camera before, although Felicity had assured her she would be a natural. A natural what, Felicity hadn’t specified.
The farm was buzzing with activity by the time Shelby got downstairs, dressed in her carefully chosen outfit, with her hair combed into submission and a dab of makeup on her face. She was surprised to see Mrs. Willoughby coming down the driveway carrying armloads of colorful flowers. Isabel Stone followed behind her, gliding along on one of those knee scooters for people who had broken ankles or who had had foot surgery. A large straw tote was slung over one of the handlebars.
