Murder for Choir (30 page)

Wiping away the tears, I scratched Killer behind the ears and got up. Sitting here crying wasn’t going to make things any better. I pulled on my favorite dark-wash jeans and a stretchy black T-shirt and went to find my toothbrush. It was hard to feel brave with morning breath.

Armed with sexy clothes and a minty-fresh mouth, I marched down the stairs. I pushed the fear to the side and focused on the white-hot anger building inside me. Anger made me feel powerful and kept the tears at bay. Both were good.

The fire truck was pulling away as I walked back into the sunshine. A bunch of neighbors had come out and were milling in the street. Mike was down at the bottom of the driveway talking to a uniformed officer. He spotted me, nodded at the officer, and trotted up the drive.

“The department will send over a tow truck so our techs can take a better look at the car. We think the bomb was made with gas cylinders that were wired into the ignition.” He tucked his hands in his back pocket. “It probably produced an impressive burst of fire to start, but didn’t do the kind of damage other devices might have.”

I looked at my singed Cobalt and tears threatened to reemerge. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He shrugged. “Make sure you and your aunt keep your cars parked in the garage overnight from now on. And you’ll want to contact your insurance carrier. Give them my name and number if they have any questions.”

I hadn’t even thought about contacting my insurance agent. Yippee. More fun.

“Do you have any idea who did this?” I asked.

Mike straightened his shoulders and tried to look confident as he said, “Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

I just hoped when that time came, I was still alive to enjoy it.

Mike went through the “stay inside and out of trouble” routine and promised to let me know if there were any developments. He turned to leave, and I remembered a question I’d forgotten to ask last night.

“Did you ever find Larry?”

I could see the answer reflected in Mike’s eyes. Larry was still missing, and no one had a clue where to look for him.

No one except me.

It was well after noon before the last of the police officers pulled away and the neighbors went indoors. Millie had called to let me know Aldo was fine. The doctors said his blood pressure shot up and caused him to black out. They would be monitoring him for a few more hours before sending him home. Millie planned on keeping Aldo company, which meant I was free to borrow her car. Since the car had been parked in the garage all night, I was relatively certain it wouldn’t explode the minute I cranked the gas. Still, I held
my breath and prayed to the patron saint of fire retardancy that I wouldn’t get blown to bits.

The pink Caddy roared to life and no flames burst forth. My day was improving. I pulled the car out of the driveway and went in search of Dana Lucas, careful not to take out any lawn ornaments along the way.

Dana’s red Jeep was in her driveway. I parked Millie’s car at the curb, grabbed my purse, and stalked up to the door. My nerves were taut as I rang the bell and unzipped my purse halfway. Coming here was a risk. If Dana was the one who lit my car on fire, she’d have no qualms about killing me in broad daylight. Still, I was banking on her son’s presence being a deterrent. And if not…I reached into my purse and closed my fingers around cool steel.

The door swung open, and a red-eyed Dana stood in the doorway. The woman was just as intimidating up close as I remembered, although she looked far more upset today than she had at her ex-husband’s memorial service.

Her eyebrows knit together as she stared at me. “Yes? Can I help you?”

Clearly, my attendance at her yoga class made zero impression on her. I relaxed my grip on the gun. If Dana was the one taking shots at me, she’d know what I looked like.

“We met at your yoga class the other day. My name is Paige Marshall.”

She forced a smile. “Right. You were the one who found my ex-husband dead. Sorry I didn’t recognize you. You look different today.”

Probably because I wasn’t red-faced and covered in sweat. Talking a deep breath, I said, “I was hoping you could help me find my boss, Larry DeWeese. He’s been missing since yesterday morning.”

Dana froze. Slowly she said, “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you and Larry were seen together outside the country club on Wednesday night.”

“Who said we were together?”

“Larry did.”

Dana’s eyes went wide. “Larry wasn’t sure who we could trust. So he said we shouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He knew I was looking into Greg’s murder. I guess he figured I could be trusted.” Dana’s bottom lip trembled. She wanted to share her secrets with someone. Now I just needed to convince her that someone was me. “I know about Larry’s financial problems and about
the song
.”

That did it.

Dana stepped back and waved me into the house. Running a hand through her spiky hair, she led me down the hall to a country-style kitchen and poured herself a large glass of red wine. She drained the glass and nodded for me to take a seat at the kitchen table. “Do you want some?”

I watched her pour another helping. After the morning I’d had, I could use a drink. Too bad I needed a clear head. I declined and asked, “Have you heard from Larry recently?”

“Not a word.” She took a seat at a table topped with white tile, and I pulled out the chair opposite her. “He was supposed to call me yesterday before Greg’s memorial service, but I never heard from him. I just know something terrible has happened.”

Tears crept down Dana’s cheeks, and her shoulders began to shake. I grabbed a tissue out of my purse and passed it over. “Because Larry thought he knew who murdered Greg?”

Dana cried harder. “I think so, yes. But he never told me who it was. He wanted to keep me safe. Not like Greg. He never cared about anyone but himself.”

“What did you and Larry do on Wednesday night after you left the club?” Maybe they crossed paths with the murderer without Dana realizing it.

“My son, Jacob, was at a sleepover. I told Larry we were coming here to have a quiet dinner, but my lawyer was waiting to talk to him. Greg’s entire career was based on the song he stole from Larry. I was trying to help Larry get what was rightfully his.”

“That was generous since you must have gotten part of that money in your divorce settlement.”

“I didn’t see a dime.” Dana’s eyes glittered with anger and tears. “Greg and his lawyers convinced the judge that he’d written the song long before I was married to him. That I didn’t deserve to reap the rewards of any premarital success.”

Ouch.

“The lawyer thought Larry had a good case. Then Greg was murdered and Larry decided to call off the lawsuit.”

“Why?”

She sniffled. “Larry thought my son would be named as Greg’s sole beneficiary, and he didn’t want to take away the money or my son’s good memories of his father.”

Dana dissolved into tears again.

“Is that what you argued about outside Greg’s house the other day?”

Dana stiffened. “How do you know we argued?”

The truth wasn’t going to help me, and I couldn’t come up with a plausible lie. So I did the next best thing—I stayed quiet and hoped for the best. My heart thudded in my chest as the seconds ticked by.

Finally, Dana’s shoulders slumped, and she nodded. “We were there to look for Greg’s will. Larry found a copy of it in Greg’s files along with the original handwritten version
of the song that Greg stole. The song was in Larry’s handwriting. A judge would have to rule in his favor, but Larry didn’t want to pursue it anymore. He insisted he’d find another way to pay off his bills.”

Huh. Dana looked like she was seriously in love with Larry. Which only added to my confusion. “Why haven’t you told any of this to the police? This information might help them find him.”

“I promised Larry I wouldn’t.”

Damn. I was hoping she wouldn’t say that. Larry’s unwillingness to reclaim his stolen music or the profits made from it seemed to strip away his motive for murder—unless he wanted it to look that way. I couldn’t help but remember the e-mail quoting a large amount of money for services to be rendered by the mysterious Kris. Larry might have set up his own disappearance and dropped hints about knowing who the killer was just to throw the cops off the scent.

Of course, one thing about Dana was still bothering me. “When I was at class the other night, the other two students acted like they were scared of you.”

Dana knocked back the rest of her wine and smiled. “I’m a tough teacher.”

“Yes, I know.” I rested my arms on the table and leaned forward. “But that isn’t what they were referring to. They said you told them something, and whatever it was made them very nervous.”

Her lips pursed, and her eyebrows knit together. Dana was in deep thought. Suddenly, she threw back her head and barked out a laugh. “Holy crap. They think I killed Greg.”

“Why would they think that? I mean, most divorced couples don’t go around killing each other.” Although, I, for one, believed if any divorcée would take a whack at her former spouse, it was Dana.

She smiled. “A couple weeks ago, Greg blew off a weekend trip he’d planned with our son. He followed that act by sending me a child-support check written on a closed account. I found out about both right before class, and I might have said a few things I shouldn’t have.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Dana laughed again. “Okay, I think I said something like if Greg was smart, he’d go into hiding; otherwise, I’d tie him up with my yoga straps and beat him to death with the heel of my shoe. Yoga equipment is mostly made of cloth or foam, otherwise I would have chosen something more appropriate. Greg thought my yoga teaching was a joke.” She gave me a sadistic smile. “Turns out I got the last laugh.”

Climbing back into the Caddy, I was more confused than when I’d arrived. Dana was in the clear. That was good, but I still had no idea where Larry was. That was bad, especially since I was now seriously considering him as a suspect in Greg’s murder.

Not sure what else to do, I cruised over to Larry’s house. Maybe he’d turned up since last I checked.

Nope.

The place was empty and locked up tight. If any clues inside led to his whereabouts, the cops would have to find them. I wasn’t about to break and enter with the neighborhood watch on duty. She was camped out on her front porch with her binoculars at the ready. The good news was, if Larry came back, she’d send up smoke signals to the cops.

The only other place that might hold answers about Larry was the school, and I still didn’t have a key. Tomorrow was the first day of classes, albeit a shortened one. The decision to start the school week on a Tuesday seemed odd to me.
Wasn’t the school week supposed to start on a Monday? To top it off, tomorrow’s school day was less than three hours long—just enough time for kids to visit every class, figure out where the classrooms were located, and meet the teachers.

Larry had asked me to sing for all his classes in the hopes of interesting some of the kids in voice lessons. I’d agreed. Without Larry there, I wasn’t sure if the sub would want me to perform, but I figured I’d show up just in case. Besides, I had to attend a show choir meeting immediately after school. I hoped Larry would turn up before then. If not, I was in charge.

Suddenly, it struck me. Starting tomorrow, I was a teacher.

Yikes.

This revelation shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was. Teenagers would be looking to me to help them achieve their goals. They may not like it, but they needed me—especially now that Larry was missing in action. This might not be the career I wanted, but for now it was the one I had, and I didn’t want to let the kids down.

I pulled into Millie’s garage, went inside the house, and dialed Devlyn. If I was going to give this teaching thing my all, I needed to be prepared.

Devlyn answered on the first ring. “Are you okay? You didn’t call me back last night.”

Oops. Between Mike’s late-night visit and the car explosion, I’d totally forgotten. “Sorry. Things have been a little crazy.”

I explained about last night’s gig and this morning’s car excitement. The latter had Devlyn freaking. “Oh my God. Is your aunt’s friend okay? Are you okay? Do the police have any leads?”