A Chorus Lineup (A Glee Club Mystery) (23 page)

“I overheard her talking to one of her students when I came out of the bathroom. They were standing in that little alcove. The boy kept talking about things ending because of LuAnn’s death. He sounded angry and scared, which is understandable considering what’s happened this week. I was impressed at the way Nikki kept her voice low and soothing as she told him that endings meant new beginnings and while that was scary she was willing to help him put his life on the right track. You have to admire that.”

Yeah. You did.

“Once the kid walked outside to get some fresh air, I walked over, introduced myself, and offered my condolences.” Millie looked at Nikki, who was looking satisfied with whatever turn her conversation had taken. “When Nikki realized who I was, she thanked me for trying to help LuAnn and asked if there was anything I’d seen that could help identify the person who ran her down. She was disappointed when I said I didn’t get a good look at the car or the driver. That’s when she mentioned that she felt the police were just going through the motions on the investigation and that they were wasting their time with talking to people who had never even met LuAnn face-to-face.”

“Did she say who?”

Millie shrugged. “There were a bunch of them. A couple of parents who didn’t get into town until yesterday, the FedEx delivery guy, and I think there was even a mechanic who fixed one of the theater doors.”

“I met the mechanic.” I glanced around to see whether Officer Durbin could hear me. Nope—she was busy talking to Kelly. Neither woman looked all that thrilled about it. “He fixed the loading dock. While he was there, he saw a college kid take some boxes LuAnn left there.”

“You think those boxes were the reason LuAnn was killed?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure how sealed glass jars would prompt anyone to get run over, but stranger things have been known to happen.”

“Nikki should be able to shed some light on the boxes since they must have traveled here with her team. Regardless, I hope the police figure it out soon. These kids deserve to end this week without having to worry about something else bad happening.”

A couple of the teens she was worrying about came out of the theater and made a beeline for the easel. Still no list. Millie snickered as one of the kids colorfully commented on the competition head’s lack of math skills.

“You know,” she said with a grin, “I’m glad you had a chance to teach this year. This wasn’t the job you wanted, but I think you’ve become a better performer as a result. And I’ve had a hell of a good time getting a chance to get to know these kids. It’s brought back memories of when I was in high school. They’re way better behaved than I was at their age. I would have snuck out of the motel and been in a field somewhere, drinking homemade wine my best friend’s father made in his basement. The stuff tasted like lighter fluid, but we felt so grown-up drinking it. Annie still sends me a bottle of homemade brew every year on my birthday as a joke. The joke’s on her because I’ve consumed every single bottle. Still burns my stomach, but it makes me feel like I’m sixteen again. Kind of like being around these kids does.” Millie’s smile faded. “Look.”

I glanced to where Millie pointed and my heart lurched. Christine McCann was standing next to the easel with tape in one hand and a pink piece of paper in the other. The list of finalists for mixed company was going up.

The lobby went dead quiet. All eyes around the expansive space watched Christine tape the paper to the easel and walk away. For a minute no one moved. It was as if people were waiting for someone to be the first to break the tension. So, I did.

That step acted like a starting gun. The dozen or so kids ran across the carpet toward the list. The adults didn’t run, but we broke records for speed walking as we hurried toward our goal.

Drat. There were too many people huddled in front of the list. I couldn’t see. But shouts of joy and tears of sorrow gave me an idea of some of the results. Several kids from Scott’s team were exchanging high fives. Girls from Donna’s group were in tears. I shifted to the left and ducked so I could sneak a peek in between the half dozen girls who were currently squealing.

Yes! Six teams were on the list and Music in Motion was at the very top. My kids would get one more performance, and this time it would be winner take all.

“When you get back to the hotel, don’t forget you need to run the numbers with Megan,” I told Larry as I stood next to Aunt Millie’s car. My bag was in the backseat. Aldo was sitting behind the wheel, listening to Killer bark and Millie tell him to be careful. Larry had verified and both he and Jim still had a key to my hotel room to store the instruments and costumes. It was time to go. “Don’t let Megan sing, though, no matter what she tells you. She still needs one more day of vocal rest. And try to fix the spacing at the end of the last song. Eric and Chessie weren’t in their window.”

“I have everything under control, Paige.” Larry beamed. He’d been wearing the same deranged grin ever since I’d found him in the back of theater and given him the results. “Devlyn and I will hold down the fort until you get back. Just make sure you text me as soon as the audition is over. The kids are going to be going crazy waiting to hear how it went.” His cheeks flushed. “Well, maybe not just the kids. I’m going to be wondering, too. Break a leg.”

“Thanks,” I said, looking over his shoulder. Devlyn hadn’t come to say good-bye or wish me luck. Climbing into the pink car, I yelled, “See you tomorrow.” And off to the airport we went.

“You should be so proud,” Aldo said, keeping his eyes firmly on the road in front of him. “The team did good. Tomorrow will be even better. And Millie says the police are getting closer to catching the person behind that poor woman’s death. If there is anything to worry about with the police, my Millie will take care of it. You have only to worry about looking
bellissima
and singing. Yes?”

“I’ll try to do both,” I promised. Then, since I couldn’t help being curious, I asked, “Was Millie awake when you got back to the room last night? Did you get a chance to talk?”

Aldo gave me a toothy smile. “She was awake, but we no have time to talk much. Your aunt was interested in a more . . . How do you say? Nonverbal communication?”

Eek. That was what I got for being nosy. Next time I’d just wait to find out what happened.

“But,” Aldo said, flipping on the turn signal, “at breakfast, I say to your aunt that I am thinking about exchanging the ring for a pair of earrings. That way it no go to waste, but she tells me not to. Then she gives me a wink. That is good, no?”

A definitive yes to Aldo’s marriage proposal would be better, but, hey, this was superior to Millie packing Aldo’s underwear and putting it on the front stoop without sealing the box. Although, the memory of watching a squirrel build a nest from Aldo’s tighty whities was going to make me laugh for years to come.

“Oh.” Aldo snapped his fingers as he steered us under the sign that directed us to my terminal. “Before I forget. Your aunt arranged for someone to pick you up at the airport. You just have to wait outside the baggage claim.
Capisci
?”

“
Capiche
. Who’s picking me up?”

“She did not say, but I am guessing you will know them when you see them.” Aldo pulled up to the curb and wished me luck. I kissed him on the cheek and climbed out.

Chicago, here I come.

The woman seated next to me on the plane snored all the way from Nashville to Chicago, so I was thankful the flight wasn’t that long. It was still light when the plane touched down and I turned my cell phone back on. Every time I flew, I was tempted to leave it active just to prove that the device wasn’t dangerous. But at the last minute I always wimped out. I was 99.9 percent sure my phone was incapable of making the plane crash, but that .1 percent got me every time.

As soon as my phone powered up, I heard several dings. I had text messages. Lots of them. Two were from my manager, Alan, confirming the audition time and asking me to meet him at the Wacker Drive entrance of the Lyric thirty minutes before my audition time. The message made my nerves jangle. Managers set up auditions. They didn’t attend them. Knowing that Alan felt it necessary to be present in body as well as spirit made me more than a little nervous.

The plane came to a stop, and I rolled my eyes as everyone stood and jockeyed for position in the aisles even though the plane doors were still locked up tight. Those who didn’t get into the aisle soon enough stood with their necks crooked at a forty-five-degree angle to avoid bashing their heads into the bins above. I’d learned long ago to just sit and wait until it was my turn to leave. Disembarking two minutes earlier wasn’t worth the frustration or the kink in my neck.

While waiting for my turn, I sent a quick message back, confirming that I was in the city and would meet him at the appointed time. I followed that up with a teasing question, asking whether he was coming because he didn’t trust me not to get lost inside the building if left on my own.

As I waited for Alan to respond, I checked my other texts. One from Larry reporting a successful rehearsal. Another from Millie reminding me that she’d arranged for someone to pick me up from the airport and to wait until they arrived. And ten messages from assorted members of my team wishing me luck on my audition. By the time I’d read half of them, I had started to sniffle. After reading the final message, my eyes were filled with tears.

I swiped at my runny nose as the doors opened and people began filing out. The guy in the row across from me must have decided my tears meant I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, because he insisted I go in front of him. Who said chivalry was dead?

Even though the flight hadn’t been very long, it felt wonderful to stretch my legs, so I didn’t mind the walk to baggage claim. A gust of cool air hit me as I went outside to search for my mysterious chauffeur. Aldo had said I’d know the person when I saw them, which sounded reasonable. Of course, now that I was here at O’Hare, it occurred to me that cars weren’t allowed to park and wait for arriving friends and family. Police officers standing outside each terminal made sure of that. Unless I recognized the car the person drove, I wasn’t going to have a clue whether the car driving past was supposed to be stopping for me. This was a problem.

Or not.

My heart did a funny little skip as I noticed the black Mustang parked at the curb and the dark-haired man standing next to it. The man was wearing a beat-up gray sports coat while chatting up the policewoman who was currently shooing cars away from the curb. Well, all cars but his. Because he was a fellow cop. My mystery driver was none other than Prospect Glen’s own answer to
Law & Order
—Detective Michael Kaiser.

His curly hair blew in the breeze as he scanned the area with those dark eyes that more often than not looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and desire. But when those eyes landed on me, I saw only a mild pleasure. Pushing aside the irrational disappointment swelling inside, I headed over with a wave.

“You look surprised to see me,” he said, sliding my bag off my shoulder and stowing it in the trunk.

Buckling in, I admitted, “Aunt Millie didn’t tell me you were the one picking me up.”

“That’s my fault.” He waved to the policewoman and pulled away from the curb. “When she asked if I’d be willing to give you a lift to your house, the audition, and back to the airport, I warned her you might not be excited about the idea, since . . .” He shrugged. “Well, you know.”

“Since you told me you thought you were in love with me and stopped returning my calls.”

Mike laughed and flashed a boyish grin. “I’ve missed the way you’re never afraid to pin me to the wall.” His eyes turned serious as he watched me in the rearview mirror. “I’ve missed you.”

The simple sincerity with which those words were said made me bite back the snarky comment that immediately sprang to mind. Calmly, I said, “I’ve been here. You were the one who stepped away.”

“Guilty as charged.” Mike glanced over at me and then back at the road. “I’m sorry about that. There were some things that I needed to think through.”

“And you couldn’t think if you answered my phone calls?” The hurt I’d buried had bubbled up.

“I told myself I couldn’t.” He changed lanes and hit the gas. “That was probably a lie, but it was easier to believe than the truth.”

“What truth?”

Mike sighed. “This wasn’t the way I pictured having this conversation. I was going to take you out to dinner and explain what happened.”

He changed lanes again. His eyes were focused straight ahead, but I could tell by the way they narrowed that he was thinking through the situation. Calculating what to say and how to say it to get the reaction he was looking for. Two things that as a homicide detective he was trained to do.

After what seemed like an hour but the clock on the dash claimed was only two minutes, he blew out a breath and said, “I was scared.”

I blinked. “Scared? Of what?” Killer? If that was the case, I could understand Mike’s fear. Having to come to a house where the dog pretended to be Cujo was bound to freak out most sane people.

Mike smirked. “For a smart lady you can be awfully dense. You, Paige. I was scared of you.”

“Me? Why?”

He zipped the Mustang onto the exit ramp, hung a left, and steered the car into the McDonald’s parking lot. Putting the car in park, he shifted so those dark eyes were now focused squarely on me. “I’ve dated a lot of women. Most of them liked the idea of being with a cop. I guess there’s something exciting about dating a guy with a gun.”

I’d never thought that, but hey—it took all types.

“I always figured I’d get married someday in the future when I found the right woman. Then I met you and realized the joke was on me. For the first time a woman had gotten under my skin and made me think about settling down, only she wasn’t interested in settling.”

Mike looked as if he expected me to comment. Too bad I was totally lost. Since honesty was the best policy, I said, “I don’t understand.”

“Why did I know you were going to say that?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew you were a singer. The background information I’d dug up on you after we first met told me you were good at it.”

“You ran a background check on me?” Yikes.

“You were a primary witness on a murder case and a potential suspect. Of course I ran a background check.”

Well, when he put it that way. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a little wigged out. The man probably knew everything about me down to my credit score and underwear size. All I knew about him was that he drove a muscle car and didn’t arrest me for my forays into snooping no matter how angry I made him.

“My point is that I thought I understood what you did for a living and what that meant. Then I heard you sing.”

Um . . . “What’s wrong with my singing?” With the biggest audition of my life tomorrow, I wasn’t sure I could handle a no-holds-barred critique, but I’d opened the door and now Mike was walking through it.

“I don’t know jack about classical music. No one dresses in fancy clothes for the concerts I go to. Give me Bruce Springsteen over a bunch of snooty songs any day. But when I heard you practicing at your aunt’s house . . .” Mike took my hand in his and held it when I tried to pull away. “I can still hear that song and feel what I felt. Your aunt used to sing your praises and tell me how wonderful you were. I figured she was exaggerating. But she wasn’t. You’re better than she described. And you were better still the night I watched you on that stage. That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That you were out of my league. And that someday soon you were going to get your big break and you’d leave Chicago and me behind. Which is why I left first. Dealing with emotional issues has never been my strong suit.”

No kidding.

“So what do you think?”

I had no idea what to think. A half hour ago I’d never thought I’d see Mike again. Now here he was telling me that he not only believed that I would make it as a singer, but that he wasn’t good enough for me. The change of direction had given me whiplash.

“I’m not sure what to say.” Which was perhaps the understatement of the year. “I thought you’d lost interest and didn’t want to tell me. I moved on.”

“I know.” Mike’s fingers tightened on mine. The vein in his left temple began to twitch. “When your aunt called to ask if I’d meet you at the airport, she mentioned that you and Devlyn have gotten serious. She’s expecting you to announce your engagement any day.”

“My engagement?” I shook my head. “But—”

“I figure I’d missed my chance, but I wanted you to know how I feel before you decide to walk down the aisle.” He pulled his hand away and reached for the gearshift. The set of his jaw told me he considered this case closed even though to me it had just opened. Now I had to decide what the verdict would be.

It took until Mike steered into Millie’s neighborhood with its sprawling, meticulously cared-for lawns for me to sort through my feelings. Joy that Mike thought I was talented. Resentment that he made the decision to walk away without ever asking me what I wanted from my future. Anger that it took Aunt Millie’s fictionalized account of my relationship status to get him to speak up. And nerves. Because the fluttering in my chest and the hopeful yearning I felt told me that Mike and I had a whole lot more to talk about.

Mike parked the car in Millie’s driveway, got out, and grabbed my bag out of the back. When I slipped the key in the lock and turned the handle, he handed me my duffel. “Your aunt said your audition was at nine o’clock but that you’d like to arrive early. I figure if I’m here by seven fifteen, I should be able to get you downtown in plenty of time. But if you want to leave earlier, let me know.”

When he started to walk away, I asked, “What about dinner?”

Mike stopped and turned. “What about it?”

The annoyed confusion on his face made me smile. “You said you planned on talking to me over dinner.”

He jammed his hands in his pockets and gave a halfhearted shrug. “You need to focus on your audition. I know how important it is.”

Mike was right. I needed to focus. The audition was important. But so was this. “Well, then, I expect a rain check because we still have a lot to talk about.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” I stepped forward, stood on my tiptoes, and brushed my lips against his. Taking a step back, I almost laughed at Mike’s stunned expression.

“I don’t understand.”

Now I did laugh. “My aunt might have exaggerated my relationship status a bit.”

Mike’s eyes locked onto mine. “By how much?”

“Are we measuring in miles or kilometers?”

Mike moved fast. Before I had finished speaking he had closed the distance. His lips touched mine with a fierceness that made my head spin and my body hum. The kiss lasted only a couple of seconds, and when Mike moved away I put my hand on the door to steady myself.

For a moment we just looked at each other. Finally, he flashed me a smile. “Get some rest,” he said as he headed for his car and slid behind the wheel. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

He couldn’t be more right. Once I shut the front door, I made a beeline for the living room to sing through the pieces I’d selected. If I wanted to make a change, now was the time to decide.

I propped my repertoire book on Aldo’s shiny grand piano and sang a couple of scales to warm up. Then I plunked out the opening chord to Musetta’s aria and started to sing. Since I always performed better with an audience, I directed my attention to the four glassy-eyed dogs reclining near the French doors.