Deadly Overtures: A Music Lover's Mystery Read online

  “To both of us,” I said. “Until then, I should let you go. Thanks again for coming all the way out here to help me.”

  “Anytime. You know that.”

  I gave him a grateful smile. “I do.”

  “Although I’m not sure all this qualifies as being careful.”

  “It’s not that I wasn’t being careful,” I said. “I’m just not as good at tailing someone as I thought.”

  “But if you hadn’t followed him into the building in the first place . . .”

  “Okay, true. But how could I not? I wanted to know what he was up to.”

  JT shook his head like he thought there was no hope for me. “Don’t you remember what they say about curiosity and the cat?”

  “I’m not a cat,” I pointed out.

  “All the more reason to keep your curiosity in check. You don’t have nine lives to play with. Just one, and I’d like you to live it for as long as possible.”

  “So would I,” I said. “I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble.”

  “Mm-hm.” He was clearly dubious about how effective my best efforts would be.

  Raising myself up on my tiptoes, I kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, JT. You really are the best.”

  His expression relaxed and he almost smiled. “See you later?”

  “Absolutely.”

  We parted ways and I drove straight home, determined to prove to JT that I could stay out of trouble, at least for the rest of the day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  AFTER ARRIVING HOME I set off on foot to take care of a few errands in my neighborhood. Later on, as I walked home from the bank, I tried to make sense of what I’d witnessed earlier that day while locked in the basement storage room. I didn’t believe it was a coincidence that Cameron and Igor were both present at the theater on the night of Pavlina’s death, not now that I knew they were acquainted. There were still plenty of questions I didn’t have answers to, though.

  I’d seen Cameron hand money over to Igor and his friend, so I figured it was safe to assume that Cameron either owed them money or was the victim of extortion. I had a hard time picturing him as a victim, especially since he’d locked me up and abandoned me, but that might have been my personal feelings coloring my judgment.

  Regardless, I believed Igor and his burly pal expected more money from Cameron. Judging by the way they’d reacted when he handed them the cash, they weren’t satisfied with the amount. Could a debt owed to Igor have driven Cameron to steal JT’s equipment? I hoped that was one of many questions Cameron would answer that night.

  When I arrived home, I checked the time and decided I had more than an hour to spare before I needed to get ready to go out that evening. I fixed myself a light supper and ate it while watching a rerun of Castle on the TV. Once I’d finished eating, I booted up my laptop, the television still on in the background. Even though I hoped Cameron would give us answers that night, there was always a chance that he’d clam up and refuse to say anything. Or he might lie to us. Since I couldn’t guarantee that he’d provide me with any information about Igor Malakhov, I decided to see what I could find out on my own.

  I typed Igor’s full name into the search bar on the computer screen and scanned the results that popped up a split second later. With a sigh of disappointment, I realized I was most likely wasting my time. There were too many people with the name Igor Malakhov, and although I clicked on a few of the search results, none of them pertained to Elena’s cousin.

  Giving up on that avenue of investigation, I decided to try a few other names. Starting with my prime murder suspect, I typed Ethan Rogerson’s name into the search bar and went through the same process again. While there were several people by that name with information online, I was able to pinpoint social media profiles and a couple of articles relating to the right Ethan. Unfortunately, however, they weren’t the least bit enlightening. Ethan’s social media profiles didn’t tell me anything of interest and the news articles related strictly to his musical achievements.

  Next I conducted a search on Jeb Hartson. I found a fair bit of information about the judge, but again none of it was helpful. All of it related to his career, and none of the Web pages revealed any dirt that might have tarnished the phony cowboy’s reputation.

  The same was true of Olivia Hutchcraft. The information I found online related strictly to her professional activities, and none of it seemed suspicious, or even particularly interesting. I wanted to know more about her assistant as well, but I didn’t know his last name so that would have to wait for the moment.

  Frustrated, I gave up and shut down my laptop. Although I would have liked to continue my research, perhaps delving deeper into Pavlina’s past, that would have to wait as well. JT would be by to pick me up soon, and I wanted to change my clothes and touch up my makeup before going out.

  Soon after I’d switched my jeans for a black wrap dress and had replaced my stud earrings with delicate, dangly ones, the buzzer alerted me to JT’s arrival. A minute later I was bundled up and climbing into the passenger seat of his truck. As JT drove us downtown, I hoped we’d soon get some answers out of Cameron.

  WHEN WE ARRIVED at the pub where the band would be playing, I hung around in the back with JT and Rafael for a few minutes, but then left them for the front of the house. I didn’t want to be there when Cameron arrived. Although I would have loved to see his face when he walked in to find me there, I really didn’t want to mess things up for the band. If he was distracted, he might fall apart during the performance, and I didn’t want that to happen. I’d have my chance to face him soon enough. I just needed to be patient.

  The pub was filling up with patrons by the time I made my way to the front of the house, so I claimed a table and ordered a Bellini. Mikayla and Dave arrived a short time later, and their company distracted me from my thoughts of what would transpire later that night. Right away I noticed that something seemed off about Mikayla. She was more subdued than usual, her typical bubbliness more of a sputter here and there. But I could also tell she was trying to hide it, so I didn’t raise the subject while Dave was there with us.

  We ordered a platter of nachos to go with our drinks and soon we were chatting about the recent events that had transpired at the theater.

  “I heard the police questioned Elena,” Dave said before chomping down on a nacho laden with cheese and salsa.

  “Really?” Mikayla said. “Elena is cold, but I can’t imagine her getting her hands dirty by killing someone.” She looked to me for confirmation. “Is she really a suspect?”

  I shrugged as I took a sip of my drink. “I don’t know if they consider her a suspect, but the detectives definitely wanted to talk to her. Her cousin was there on the night of the murder and he apparently had a history with Pavlina. Plus he has a criminal record.”

  “Whoa,” Mikayla said with a shake of her head. “So maybe he killed Pavlina and the police think Elena might know something about it?”

  “Something like that, I guess.” I hoped that was all there was to it. After munching on a nacho, I continued. “I have a hard time picturing Elena killing someone too. She’s more the type that would get someone to do it for her.”

  “So maybe she got her cousin to kill Pavlina,” Dave said.

  Mikayla frowned. “But why? I mean, I heard that Elena wasn’t happy about losing the front cover of Classical Spotlight to Pavlina, but she’d have to be seriously crazy to want her dead because of that. Elena’s a snob, but I don’t think she’s insane.”

  “No,” I agreed, “I don’t think she is either. But there’s definitely something fishy about her cousin.”

  I didn’t bother to fill them in on Igor’s link to Cameron or the suspicious transaction I’d witnessed earlier that day. JT and his bandmates had arrived on the stage at the far end of the pub, distracting all of us from our conversation. I watched as Cameron settle
d in behind his drums, the sight of him igniting a spark of anger inside of me. I still couldn’t believe he’d had the gall to lock me up in the basement and leave me there. If I hadn’t been able to make a phone call, I’d likely still be there while he went about his life, apparently without a care in the world.

  A few seconds later, he raised his gaze and looked my way. His eyes widened and he froze, one drumstick raised in front of him. I kept my expression impassive as I stared him down, although I was secretly pleased by the shock on his face. Hamish said something to him and he shook himself out of his daze. From then on, he avoided looking my way, his gaze rarely ever straying beyond the stage.

  Despite the initial shock of seeing me there in the pub, he managed to gather himself and perform with the band as if nothing had happened. I was glad of that. The last thing I wanted was for him to embarrass JT and the others by ruining the concert.

  Mikayla, Dave, and I ate our nachos and sipped our drinks as the band played through several songs, some of which JT had composed. I beamed with pride when their set ended and the patrons broke into enthusiastic applause. I clapped along with everyone else, and my heart danced a happy jig when JT caught my eye from across the pub and grinned at me.

  “I need to use the ladies’ room,” Mikayla said as she pushed back her chair, diverting my attention from JT.

  I glanced back toward the stage. The guys were still there, but they were getting ready to move their instruments into the back room. I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to confront Cameron, but I was also worried about my friend.

  “I’ll come with you,” I said, coming to a quick decision.

  After making use of the facilities, Mikayla stood in front of the restroom mirror, applying a fresh coat of lipstick.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I touched up my own lip gloss.

  “Going on?”

  “You haven’t been yourself tonight.”

  She sighed as she returned her tube of lipstick to her purse. “Dave and I had an argument earlier.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “But the two of you will be all right, won’t you?”

  She met my eyes in the mirror and I read her answer there before she replied. “I’m not sure.” She let out another sigh. “We’ve been arguing a lot lately. Things were going so well before, but now . . .”

  “Is there anything in particular that you argue about?”

  “Not really. It’s just . . . He’s so rigid about everything. Set in his ways. I don’t know if he was hiding that part of him before, or if I was just blind to it in the beginning because I was so into him.”

  I gave her a hug. “I’m sorry, Mikayla.”

  “Thanks, hon. Maybe we can still make things work.”

  She didn’t seem too optimistic, and the sadness in her eyes cut at my heart. I hated to see her unhappy and I felt terrible for her. I knew how hopeful she’d been about her relationship with Dave in the beginning, and it was hard to see that slipping away from her.

  We left the restroom and returned to the table where Dave was finishing off the last of the nachos. JT and his bandmates had disappeared so I didn’t bother to sit down again.

  “I’m catching a ride home with JT, so I’m going to go see what he’s up to,” I said.

  I traded goodbyes with Mikayla and Dave, and collected my coat. Hoping things would get better between the two of them, I made my way around the tables and into the back of the pub. As I entered the room where the guys had stored their gear, Rafael and Hamish passed me on their way to the front of the house to get a drink.

  After exchanging a few words with them, I continued on into the room. Cameron must have heard my voice when I was talking to the other guys, but he didn’t acknowledge my presence. He kept his back to me as he grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it.

  I shared a weighty glance with JT and then we both turned our eyes to the drummer.

  “Cameron,” JT said, “we need to talk.”

  He turned around slowly, his entire demeanor uneasy. He shifted his eyes my way, but then they skittered in JT’s direction.

  “Yeah?” He feigned ignorance.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is about,” I said, annoyed that he’d considered doing so.

  “Look, I have to go. There’s somewhere I need to be.” He took a step back from us.

  “Too bad,” JT said. “You’re not going anywhere until you answer some questions. What the hell were you thinking, locking Midori in that basement and leaving her there?”

  “She was following me!”

  “Of course I was following you,” I shot at him. “You’ve been acting suspicious.”

  “Suspicious? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The fear in his eyes told a different story.

  “I don’t care that she was following you,” JT said. “That doesn’t make it okay to lock her up and abandon her. What if she hadn’t been able to get help? Would you have left her there for days? Did you even care what would happen to her?”

  Cameron shook his head, as if trying to deny that any of this was unfolding. “I knew she’d be okay. I knew someone would let her out eventually.”

  “Eventually?” I echoed. “Like when I was dead?”

  “You wouldn’t have died.”

  “How do you know?” I challenged. “I barely got a call through to JT. There was hardly any reception down there.”

  His face paled. “I didn’t think about that. I figured you’d have no problem using your cell phone.” He took another step back and raised his hands as if in surrender. “Listen, guys, I’m sorry about that, okay? I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “Didn’t mean any harm?” JT said, incredulous.

  Cameron’s eyes shifted to me. “I just wanted you out of the way. There was something I needed to do, and I didn’t want you interfering. If you had, something worse might have happened to you.”

  “You mean if I’d interrupted your little meeting?”

  More color drained from his face.

  “There was a window in the basement, you know,” I went on. “I saw you meeting with Igor and that other guy.”

  Cameron had the look of a cornered, frightened animal now.

  “What was that about?” JT asked him.

  “Nothing.” The word came out weak, unconvincing.

  “You gave them money,” I pressed. “And they didn’t seem very happy with you.”

  “So what? Look, I’m sorry about locking you up, but none of that other stuff is any of your business.”

  “You made it our business when you put Midori in danger,” JT said, his expression colder than I’d ever seen it.

  “I was keeping her out of danger.”

  “Please,” I said, not buying that explanation. “You didn’t want me finding out what you were up to, plain and simple. You didn’t want me to know you stole JT’s equipment.”

  “What? That’s crazy.” His denial rang with the discordance of a lie.

  “You stole his equipment with the help of Igor, and maybe his friend too,” I continued.

  “No. No, I didn’t.” His voice wavered.

  “Give it up, Cameron,” JT said with annoyance. “We know you did. Quit lying to us.”

  Cameron’s shoulders dropped and he seemed to shrink, his remaining defiance leaking away. “I didn’t want to. I swear I didn’t.”

  “Then why did you?” I asked.

  “I owe Igor money. A lot of money. Even before I lost my job I couldn’t make my rent. I’ve maxed out my credit cards and I needed cash. Igor has a poker game every week and I thought if I could win some money, my troubles would be over.”

  I rolled my eyes at that. As if gambling was a great solution to money problems.

  “Except you lost, right?” JT guessed.

  Cameron nod
ded, miserable. “On the night of the concert, he texted me, wanting to meet. I told him I was busy, working at the theater. The next thing I knew, he was there, demanding money from me. I didn’t have any to give him, but when he realized what I was doing there, he told me to get him access to your equipment so he could steal it. He said he’d deduct the value of the equipment from my debt. So I left the truck unlocked after we’d loaded up most of the gear.” He met JT’s eyes for the first time. “I’m sorry, man. I’m really sorry.”

  I glared at him, fiercely angry on behalf of my best friend. “What else did Igor do?”

  His eyes turned to me, surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “There was a murder that night,” I reminded him. “Maybe Pavlina overheard you and Igor planning to steal JT’s equipment. Maybe she threatened to tell someone.”

  “What?” His eyes widened with fear. “You think I know something about that girl’s death?”

  “Do you?” JT asked.

  “No!”

  “Are you sure?” I said. “Igor had a history with the victim. Maybe he ran into her while he was at the theater and things turned sour.”

  Cameron raised his hands. “Hey, if Igor had anything to do with that girl’s death, I know nothing about it. I helped him steal the equipment, I admit to that. But I know nothing about the murder. I swear.”

  I stared at him for several seconds, weighing his words, his body language. I shifted my gaze to meet JT’s. Although we said nothing, plenty passed between us. After a moment, JT nodded at me, the anger gone from his face, though he still wasn’t happy. He believed what Cameron had said about the murder, and—although I wasn’t eager to admit it—so did I.

  The drummer was guilty of theft, guilty of betraying his friend and bandmate, but he didn’t know anything about Pavlina’s murder.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “ARE YOU GOING to turn me in?” Cameron asked, the question laden with fear.

  We both looked to JT for an answer. He scrubbed a hand down his face as he thought it over.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m guessing there’s not much chance of recovering my equipment.”