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WHAT? PROFESSOR OF VIOLIN? Who was this person, and why was she here now? I had so many questions!
“Alright, everyone! I think everyone is here! We can eat!” Mother proclaimed. She started directing traffic, instructing everyone to get a plate and pointing to which direction everyone should do. In all the shuffle, I got separated from Gina and Evie. These women were descending on the food like vultures. Clearly, I would need to wait until everyone had eaten to get my questions answered. This was like a stampede. How many people had Mom stuffed into her house for this party? And where had they all been hiding? I got my bearings and got in line for some food. Julie caught up with me and stood in line beside me.
“Hannah was proud of my quiche!“ Julie beamed. Again, with the quiche. What the heck was going on in my life right now?
“There appears to be a new member to Mom’s girl gang,” I muttered to Julie as quietly as I could.
“What are you talking about?” Julie handed me a white china plate, the kind that screams rental plate.
“I met a new woman just a few minutes ago.” I took the plate from Julie and gathered my flatware.
“There are probably many new women here. Look at all the people! Where does your mother find them?” Julie put a roll on her plate.
“Spokane, evidently.” I put two pats of butter on my plate.
“Spokane? When was your mother in Spokane?” Julie wrinkled her nose at some dish with okra in it. Julie always avoided okra.
“I do not know! Gina Miller introduced me to her. It was very odd! Gina and the woman both thought that I would already know all about her.” Oh look, ambrosia! I love ambrosia! I plopped a large spoonful onto my plate.
“Can’t stand that stuff! It’s too sweet!” Julie wrinkled her nose again at the pinkish glop on my plate.
“Did you hear me? They both thought that I should know all about this person.” I squeezed a piece of chicken in some sort of cream sauce onto my plate.
“What person? I think Hazel Rogers made that chicken! Should be spectacular!” Julie also added some of the creamy chicken to her plate.
“The woman from Spokane. Dr. Evangeline Tate.”
“She’s a doctor? What kind of doctor? Fairview could really use a new allergist. I’ve been trying to get in with Dr. Wells for weeks. All booked up.” Julie and I found two spots at a small table that was set up in the family room. The entire house had tables set up for the later Bunco tournament.
“She’s not a medical doctor, at least I don’t think so. I believe she’s a Doctor of Music.” I spread my napkin across my lap and picked up my fork.
“Why do you assume that? There are people in the world that aren’t musicians, you know.” Julie put a fork full of green beans into her mouth.
“I assume that because she is Professor of Violin at the Northwest Music Conservatory.” I ate a spoonful of ambrosia knowingly, while Julie’s jaw dropped.
“A violin professor? What is she doing here? Does she know anything about the murders?”
“I don’t know. Mom called that dinner was served, and I barely got her name.” I set my fork down beside my plate.
“Why is she here?” Julie set her fork down, too.
“Gina said she came to visit and isn’t it wonderful that the festival is going on next weekend? They already have their tickets.”
“Well, that’s nice. You were worried about filling the seats for the evening recitals. Now you know at least two people will be there!” Julie took a drink of water.
“Not funny, Julie.” I sulked while twiddling my spoon.
“Just trying to lighten your mood. Remember, this is supposed to be a fun, forget-our-troubles evening out. You are doing everything but forgetting them.”
“I know. Things were going so well until Miss Lady Violin Professor came my way.” I rolled my eyes in exasperation. All I wanted was to have my little music festival. I wanted it to be a sweet music memory for all the students that would take part. There was a need for a cultural events in Fairview. I had hoped to have a piano festival or competition next year as well. Why were people being killed? So frustrating!
“Bunco will begin in 20 minutes!” Mom announced. Really? Now I had to focus on the game. Ugh!
“Finish your ambrosia, Lisa. The game will do you good. Here, have a quiche! I took more than I can eat.” Julie shoveled one of her mini quiches onto my still full plate. I sighed.
Bunco was fun and took my mind off, well, everything. A few of Mom’s friends stayed to help her clean up, so I didn’t get a few words alone with her as I had hoped. I still had so many questions and concerns about why Dr. Evangeline Tate was mysteriously in town. And what was her connection to Gina Miller? Gina was nice enough, but I never envisioned her chumming around with a sophisticated violin professor.
“Did you have fun, after all?” Julie interrupted my mental discourse.
“Yes, yes, I did. I am glad I went.” I pulled the car out of Mom’s neighborhood.
“Did you get any additional chance to talk to Gina? Or that violin professor?”
“No, the game kept me distracted. They also left right after the games ended. I had hoped to talk to Mom, but she had her friends all circled up in the kitchen. I’ll call her tomorrow,” I told Julie.
“I wonder why your mother had said nothing?” Julie looked at me in the dark car.
“I don’t know. It’s strange. Gina seemed really surprised that I didn’t have all the scoop. She really expected me to have all the details.” I clicked on my turn signal.
“Did she have all the details?” Julie asked slowly.
“What do you mean?” Was Julie on to something?
“Knowing your mom as I do, if she has big news about something, she loses no time letting you in on it. Especially something like a prestigious violin professor attending the festival recitals. Remember last week, she figured out her new TV remote, and she lost no time calling you to report? If she knew something about Evangeline Tate, she would have called you immediately.” Julie gathered her bag and now empty quiche pans as we pulled into the parking garage of her condominiums.
“You are right. It really makes little sense. Not like Mom at all.” I put the car into park, and we gathered our things and headed into Julie’s condo.
I need to call Detective Winn to see when I could move back into my cottage. Since I had not heard from him that Donald Owens had met with any harm, I hoped that it would be safe to go home.
Julie and I went inside, and Henry was thrilled to see us. I grabbed his leash, and we headed down to the street while Julie filled the sink with warm, soapy water for her quiche pans.
When Henry and I came back inside, Julie had put on her pajamas and was sitting at her desk with her computer on.
“I googled her.” Julie announced.
“Googled who?” I was trying to unhook Henry’s leash from his collar, but he was so happy to see me, he was jumping around and making it a bit of a challenge.
“Dr. Evangeline Tate. Her profile is right here on the Northwest Music Conservatory website.” Julie waggled her hand toward her computer screen for me to have a look. I had finally gotten Henry off his leash, so I grabbed a chair and went over to sit beside Julie. I looked at the monitor. There was a big color picture of the well-groomed woman that I had met this evening.
“Wow! She has won multiple big competitions!” Regardless of my nagging concern that somehow Dr. Evangeline Tate was connected to the murders of Esther Hart and Andrew Hacker, I was still really impressed with her biography as a performer. What was it like to have those kinds of wins under your belt?
“So, it says she taught at the University of New York. What city is that in? Never heard of it!” Julie squinted.
“It’s New York! Still a big deal. From there, she did her doctorate and taught violin at the University of Central Vermont. Never heard of it.” Julie looked at me.
“I’ve heard of it. Good music school. Very well respected.”
“Ok, so then she spent several years at The Birchard Institute of Music in Chicago. She only came to Spokane about a year ago. Oh look, she was nominated for a Grammy....”
“Wait a sec, Julie. Didn’t Gina Miller come from Chicago?”
“I do not know. She’s your mother’s friend. It’s too cold in Chicago for me!” Julie shook her head.
“Go to Facebook, Julie. See if there is a hometown for Gina Miller.” I scooted my chair closer to the computer.
“There are like a thousand Gina Millers! It’s going to take all night, especially if her profile picture is of her dog or cat or something!” Julie leaned in, trying to see the details of the little thumbnail pictures in front of her.
“Go to my mother’s page. Search her friends. She doesn’t have them set on private.” I rolled my eyes. Pushing Julie’s hand out of the way, I seized the computer mouse. I clicked on Julie’s homepage. My mother was one of her friends, she was shown at the top of the screen. I clicked on mother’s profile picture, then clicked on her friends. Julie typed Gina Miller into the search bar. I clicked on Gina’s picture. Julie and I both started at the “About Info” on her profile. We slowly looked at each other. Gina’s hometown was Chicago. The school she listed of having attended was the Birchard Institute of Music. Under the work tab, her listed profession was Concert Harpist. Good grief! How the heck was I ever going to get to sleep tonight?