Murder for Choir

  Aunt Millie brought the knife down onto the cutting board, sending bits of unsuspecting tomato flying. Right at me. Direct hit to the forehead.

  Millie didn’t notice. She marched around the counter, threw her arms around me, and squeezed. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. “Everything will be okay,” she said as I gasped for air. “Oh dear, you can hardly breathe you’re so upset. Don’t worry. My lawyer won’t let them railroad you.”

  My aunt disappeared through the door, leaving a forgotten pile of mutilated vegetables behind her. I leaned my head on my still-bandaged arm, closed my eyes, and savored the quiet.

  Then I heard it.

  Nails clicking on the hardwood floor.

  Deep, phone-sex panting coming closer and closer.

  Finally, a low, menacing growl.

  I opened my eyes. Baring his teeth from three feet away was Aunt Millie’s baby and International Kennel Club Best in Show, Killer. On my best day, I couldn’t outrun a purebred animal. Since today was far from my best, I decided to sit still and wait for Killer to get a grip.

  The dog took two steps forward and parked his rump on the floor. His pompon tail thudded against the hardwood as his studied me. No doubt wondering whether he could eat me before Aunt Millie returned.

  Somewhere beneath my seat, I heard Mozart begin to play. My phone was ringing. Killer nudged the purse with his nose and looked up at me. I eased myself off the stool and started to reach for the phone as Killer bared his teeth. Growling, he sprawled out on the floor with my purse underneath him.

  Great. So far today I’d been pushed around by an uncoordinated choir director and a poodle. That had to be a record.

  My phone had stopped ringing, but I was determined not to be outmaneuvered by a dog. My ego couldn’t take it. I stalked to the fridge and pulled out a piece of deli-sliced ham. Killer’s nose twitched. Setting the ham on the floor near the patio door, I walked back to the stool and waited. The dog looked from the ham to me and back at the ham with a pathetic whine. Finally, unable to resist, he climbed to his feet and trotted toward his snack.

  Score one for cured pork.

  I grabbed my purse, found my phone, and flipped it open to see who had called. Larry. And he’d left a message. I punched a couple buttons and heard Larry’s voice say, “Hi. I just wanted to let you know tomorrow’s camp classes have been canceled.” I’d figured as much, but it was good to know.

  I was about to hit end, when Larry continued talking. “If you or another faculty member needs to reach me, call the Prospect Glen Police Department. One of our students has been arrested for Greg’s murder.”

  I walked into the Prospect Glen Police Department feeling more than a little out of place. The white-and-gray lobby was empty. The glass door to my left was locked, and the room beyond it was dark.

  A bald man seated at a counter to my right looked up from his magazine with a frown. “We’re about to close.”

  I blinked. Police departments closed? That seemed like a bad idea to me, but what did I know? Maybe they lured criminals into a false sense of security by shutting down the building.

  Smiling, I said, “I’m a teacher at Prospect Glen High School. I got a call saying one of my students had been arrested.”

  “Nobody was arrested.”

  I jumped at the sound of the voice behind me and spun around. Detective Michael Kaiser stood in the doorway, an enormous cup of coffee in one hand and a McDonald’s bag in the other. He raised a bushy eyebrow at me. “Did you come to confess?”

  My heart thudded hard in my chest.

  Detective Kaiser cracked a wide smile. “Sorry. Cop humor.” He chuckled.

  I frowned. “Larry said he was here at the station with one of our students.”

  The detective nodded. “We needed to ask Eric Metz a few questions. He’s not under arrest.”

  “Larry said he was.”

  “Larry was wrong.” Detective Kaiser’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Would you like to talk to Eric yourself? I was just bringing him dinner.”

  “You’re bringing a murder suspect dinner?”

  “I went out to eat and grabbed the kid a burger.” Detective Kaiser looked uncomfortable being caught doing something nice for his suspect. He straightened his shoulders and headed for the door in the back of the room. “The food’s getting cold. If you want to see the kid, follow me.”

  Huh. Not feeding a suspect seemed like a better way to get a confession. Maybe the kid wasn’t really a suspect after all.

  I hurried to catch up with Detective Kaiser as he walked down the hallway to a large open room filled with desks. I realized I was expecting the place to look like something out of a television police drama. Sadly, the back of the PGPD was a letdown. The walls were a bright white and decorated with photographs of Little League teams. Several desks had thriving potted plants sitting on them. A couple of glassed-in offices were to my left. No stale coffee smell. No dingy gray walls. Bummer.

  Detective Kaiser directed me to follow him to a small room to my left. Seated at a white table were Eric Metz and Larry.

  Larry looked surprised to see me. Eric just looked stunned. The detective dropped the fast-food bag in front of the unblinking teenager.

  “Paige, what are you doing here?” Larry stood up and rubbed his palms on the sides of his khaki pants.

  I watched Eric slowly take the hamburger and fries out of the bag. His hands were shaking. “I got your message and was concerned.” Larry had already tried to cast suspicion on me. I wasn’t about to leave him in charge of helping one of our students.

  Eric shoved some French fries into his mouth with a sigh.

  “Do you need a drink, Eric?” I asked.

  Eric looked up at me and nodded.

  “Detective, could you get Eric a soda or some water?”

  Detective Kaiser didn’t look thrilled that I’d made him an errand boy, but he humored me and disappeared out the door. I sat down across from Eric. “Did you call your parents?”

  “They’re visiting my grandparents in Maine.” Eric looked down at his food with zero interest. Never a good sign when dealing with a teenage boy. “I keep getting my dad’s voice mail. The cell phone signals there are pretty bad.”

  “Maybe if you give Mr. DeWeese the number, he’ll go call them for you. You really shouldn’t be talking to the police without your parents around.” And calling parents would keep Larry busy long enough for me to figure out why Eric had been brought in by the cops.

  “Really? That would be great.” Eric scribbled down the number and handed it to a less-than-enthusiastic Larry. Larry frowned as he walked by me to make his call.

  Eric sucked down a bunch more fries and took a bite of his sandwich. I waited for him to swallow before asking, “Why did the police bring you in for questioning?”

  “The cops said they found my phone in the auditorium.” Eric frowned. “Only they couldn’t have. I didn’t go in the auditorium this morning.”

  Knowing how cold the body was when I found it, I doubted the cops were worried about this morning. More like last night. Wait a minute. “What color is your phone?”

  “Green with pink and blue butterflies,” he said, trying hard not to look embarrassed. He failed. “Chessie gave me the cover. She said it’s special to our relationship, so I have to use it.”

  That matched the description of the phone Larry turned over to Detective Kaiser. Still, what motive could Eric have for strangling the rival coach? This kid with ketchup smeared on his chin was hardly the homicidal-maniac type.

  “Did you have a fight with Mr. Lucas?”

  “No. But I wanted to.” The pimple on Eric’s forehead looked ready to pop. “The creep hit on Chessie.”

  I blinked. “He did what?”

  “He waited for Chessie in the parking lot and offered to give her a ride. He said he had connections with the admission staff at all the right colleges and he could help a talented girl like her, but only if she helped him first.” Eric pushed away
the hamburger and fries, sending them skidding across the table and over the edge.

  I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to eat. Greg Lucas was at least forty years old. Chessie was seventeen. Yuck! If the guy wasn’t already dead, I might have had to take a whack at him.

  Instead of indulging in my righteous anger, I asked, “When did this happen?”

  “Yesterday. After school.”

  Greg’s parking lot loitering suddenly made sense.

  Eric stood up and started to pace. “Chessie texted me after it happened.”

  Uh-oh. “And you texted her back?” He looked down at his shoes and nodded. “What did you say?”

  “I might have said that I would make Greg Lucas sorry he hit on her.”

  Translation: In cool teenage texting slang he said he was going to beat Greg Lucas to death. And the cops had the phone to prove it.

  The phone that Larry found in the auditorium.

  Or did he?

  Who was to say he didn’t find it somewhere else and plant it in the theater to take suspicion off himself? He’d already pointed the finger at me. What would stop him from setting up one of his students to take the fall? Of course, that would mean Larry had something to hide.

  “Okay, Eric. The cops have your phone, but that isn’t enough for them to charge you with murder.” At least, I hoped it wasn’t. “Refuse to talk to anyone until your parents are here. They’ll get you a lawyer and make sure you don’t get charged for a murder you didn’t commit.” A murder rap wouldn’t look good on college applications.

  The kid sat down and nodded as Detective Kaiser walked in the door carrying a bottle of water and a can of Coke. He put both on the table and slowly studied the room. French fries were scattered across the floor like confetti. A line of ketchup streaked from the middle of the back wall to the floor where the hamburger had hit and slid to the ground. Housekeeping was going to be pissed.

  They weren’t the only ones. The minute Detective Kaiser wiped French fry grease off a chair and sat down, Eric said he wouldn’t talk to the cops without his parents.

  The detective told Eric he understood. Eric would have to wait here until his parents could be reached. Detective Kaiser then stood up and smiled at me. It was definitely not a happy smile. “Could I talk to you in the other room, Miss Marshall?”

  Eek. “Of course, Detective. Do you need anything before I go, Eric?”

  He looked up at me with tired eyes. “Could you call Chessie and let her know I’m okay?”

  Promising to deliver his message, I gave Eric a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and followed Detective Kaiser into the hallway. The minute the door closed behind us, the detective leaned against a wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Until this moment, I hadn’t realized the detective was so big. His shoulders were massive, and I was guessing that under the white shirt and gray sports jacket, the guy was all muscle. And if the narrowing of his dark brown eyes was any clue, the man was ticked off.

  “If I’d known you were going to screw with my witness, I wouldn’t have let you see him.” His voice was low pitched and dangerously calm. My dad used that same tone when I was a kid. Afterward, I wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for a week.

  Instinctively, I edged up against the wall. “Eric is a minor.” Unless he’d been held back a grade.

  “Mr. DeWeese was willing to act as his guardian.”

  “Mr. DeWeese is the reason the poor kid is here in the first place.”

  “Which is one of the many reasons I called him when I brought in Eric Metz. I wanted to look into the coincidence.”

  Oops. “How was I supposed to know that?”

  The detective sighed and raked a hand through his curly dark hair. “You weren’t. In fact, you aren’t supposed to be here at all.”

  “Well, Detective Kaiser, you’re lucky I am. A defense attorney worth his retainer would get a judge to throw out any information you got from this interview. You don’t strike me as the type who’d appreciate having a murder suspect walk on a technicality.”

  “Call me Mike.”

  I blinked. “Huh?”

  My witty repartee made him smile. “My name is Mike. I figure if we’re going to yell at each other, we should do it on a first-name basis.”

  That made sense. I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Mike. I’m Paige.” Miss Manners had nothing on me.

  For a moment the detective just stared at my hand. Finally, he relented and shook it. His hand was large and the skin a bit rough. The hand reflected the man.

  Formalities over, I asked, “Where’s Larry? I figured he’d be back by now.”

  “He was hungry. I told him I wouldn’t start questioning the kid until he returned.”

  Good plan. “Did you get a chance to talk to anyone else who witnessed our run-in with Greg yesterday?”

  The detective smiled. “The home economics teacher, Felicia Frederickson, backed up your story.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Makes me wonder why Mr. DeWeese’s version of events was different.”

  “Did you ask him?”

  He hooked his thumb into his belt loop. “I did.”

  I waited. The detective just looked at me. “And?”

  “Your boss said you were new to the show choir community and he was so focused on your reactions that he must have missed the victim taking verbal shots at him. Your boss thinks you’re the overly sensitive type.”

  “You don’t?”

  He laughed. “Anyone who can discover a dead body, be accused of murder by her boss, and show up at the police station ready to do battle for a student she barely knows is more likely a thorn than a wilting flower.”

  I was pretty sure I’d just been insulted, but I decided to let it pass. The guy had a gun. Enough said.

  The two of us looked at each other, waiting for the other to say something. Huh. Guess the conversation had run out of possibilities.

  “My work here is done. Call me if you get the urge to question Eric. I can be here in fifteen minutes.” Ten if I let Aunt Millie drive.

  Detective Kaiser grinned. “I don’t think that will be necessary. But I do want you to call me if you hear anything you think I should know.” He pulled a card out of his jacket pocket and held it out.

  “Like what?”

  “Mr. DeWeese was right about one thing. You’re new. You don’t have any preconceived ideas about the parties involved so you might hear something important that other people might shrug off.” His smile remained, but his eyes were serious. Mike was in cop mode. “Humor me.”

  What the hell. I took the card and shoved it into my purse. With a jaunty wave, I trucked down the hallway toward to the front door. Happy to be free, I gave the door a shove and promptly set off the alarm. A minute later, Mike and ten of his friends came running. Do I know how to get a guy’s attention or what?

  “He might have a point.”

  “Who?” I’d just finished giving Aunt Millie the details of my police department foray, leaving out the part where I set off the security alarm. It was my story. I was allowed to edit.

  “The detective.” My aunt shifted on the living room couch for a better view of her toes. Grabbing the bottle of nail polish off the oak end table, Millie set to work turning the ends of her toes shocking pink. “As an outsider you have a fresh perspective. Ask a few questions and see what happens. If you play your cards right, you could bust this case wide open.”

  Aunt Millie looked ecstatic.

  I was horrified.

  “I just want to keep my job.” For now. I was still hoping a better gig would come along. One that didn’t include a body count. “Larry was annoyed I showed up at the police station. How do you think he’d feel if I started asking people for show choir gossip?”

  “That man needs karma to give him a swift kick in the ass.” Aunt Millie put down the bottle of polish with a thud, causing Killer to look up from his perch on the floor. He glared at me as though his
being awakened was my fault. Millie didn’t notice. “Does Larry have a birthday coming up? I have a hair removal cream that was recalled last year. It’s been known to cause rashes in some rather unmentionable areas.”

  Just mentioning Larry’s unmentionables had me breaking out into a rash. Yuck.

  My face must have said no, because Aunt Millie sighed. “Okay, no rashes. But let me ask you one thing. Do you think that Eric kid is a murderer?”

  I’d only known the kid for three days, but I couldn’t picture Eric doing anything more rebellious than toilet papering someone’s house, and I told Millie so.

  “That’s what I thought. Which means a murderer is roaming around free.” Aunt Millie patted Killer on the head, causing him to make throaty sounds of delight.

  “Which is why I should stay out of it.” Hunting down a murderer sounded like a good way to get killed.

  Swinging her legs onto the floor, Aunt Millie gingerly stood up. “I’m not talking about playing Nancy Drew. I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to keep your ears open and ask a few questions. No one would think twice. You’re the new girl. You’re supposed to ask questions. It’s the only way you get to know people.”

  With that pronouncement, Aunt Millie hobbled on her heels out of the room, Killer trotting happily behind her. Leaving me to wonder if Aunt Millie wasn’t on to something. I might not want this job, but I had it. My pride wanted to prove I could not only coach show choir but excel at it. To do that, I needed the kids to trust me.

  I looked down at my watch. It was only eight o’clock, which gave me time to ask a few questions tonight. Getting Eric off the hook would go a long way toward convincing the rest of the students to give me a chance. And unbeknownst to Eric, he had given me the perfect place to start.

  “What do you want?” Chessie Bock’s eyes narrowed to unattractive little slits as she glared at me from the open doorway.

  “Eric wanted me to tell you that he’s okay.” I watched Chessie’s face go from suspicious to concerned to pissed in a flash.

  “Why didn’t he call me instead of you?” Her lips pursed together, and her nostrils flared. Jealously wasn’t an attractive look for Chessie.