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YET AGAIN, I NEEDED to talk to Detective Winn, only this time I think that progress had been made.
“Hello, Detective Winn, please?” I asked whoever picked up the phone at the police station.
“One moment, please.” I heard the click of being placed on hold.
“Hello, this is Detective Winn.” I had neglected to realize that the person answering the phone did not ask who I was, and therefore, Detective Winn also did not know it was me.
“Uh, hi. This is Lisa Todd.” I sputtered. I had gotten used to him answering the phone himself and calling me by name.
“Hi, Lisa. Have you got anything new for me?”
“Gianna Rossi. The famous violinist that will perform tomorrow night. She studied at the school in Chicago where that violin teacher taught!” Hearing it come out of my mouth, it made little sense.
“What?” It made no sense to Detective Winn, either.
“On Tuesday night, my mother had a party at her house. Gina Miller brought a guest, a violin professor from Spokane. I did some research, and this professor taught Gianna Rossi in Chicago.” This sounded less credible the more I talked. I got the vibe that Detective Winn thought so, too.
“Do you think this violin teacher is the murderer?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Gina Miller also went to that school in Chicago. Isn’t it too odd a coincidence to just ignore?”
“Perhaps. You said Gina Miller, correct?” Detective Winn clarified.
“Yes. Her husband’s name is Wayne.” I knew it, so I used it. “The violin professor is Dr. Evangeline Tate. She currently teaches at the Northwest Music Conservatory in Spokane.”
“Got it. We will check it out. Thanks, Lisa!”
“Okay, bye.” I hung up the phone, feeling defeated. I really thought I had it figured out, but listening to myself explain it to Detective Winn, it just sounded dumb.
“You forgot to tell him Andrew Hacker also went to Birchard,” Julie announced.
“I know. The more I talked, the more foolish it all sounded.” I dug in my bag for my chap stick.
“I still think Birchard and Chicago have something to do with it. We are just missing the actual link.” Julie looked at me.
“I agree. I don’t think either Gina Miller or Dr. Tate had anything to do with it, but if they didn’t, who did?” I smacked my newly lubed lips together. Nothing like Strawberries & Cream Chapstick on dry lips!
Julie and I sat in silence for a few minutes, both of us lost in thought. What were we missing?
“It’s already 9:30.” Julie finally looked at her watch.
“Twenty-one and a half hours until curtain time.” I practically groaned.
“What are you going to do about the lights?” It suddenly occurred to her that tomorrow’s performance was going to be in the dark, since Doug Andres was no longer doing the lights. And how could he? He was now dead.
“I got ahold of the light guy from Jackson High School. He will help with the lights.” I looked at Henry. He was sound asleep.
“Good! Hey, what’s his name?” Julie sounded concerned.
“Oliver. So don’t worry, there are no O violin strings! Pretty much no letter O’s in music anywhere.” I smiled at her.
“Okay. That’s good!” Julie leaned back on the couch again.
“Should we get some sleep?” I asked Julie, unconvincingly.
“Probably, but I’m not tired. My brain is going a million miles a minute.”
“Mine too. Movie?” I knew there was no way that I was going to sleep. My phone suddenly dinged to tell me I had an email. “Hailey just sent over the last proof of tomorrow night’s program.”
“Open the email.” Julie leaned over to see my laptop screen as I opened it. I pulled up the document from Hailey’s email. Julie and I both scanned it as I scrolled down. The normalcy of it made my stomach hurt.
In my performance and teaching career, I have prepared and proofread so many programs. Way more than I could ever remember or count. Never had I thought I would need to proofread a program where one of the performers could be dead by showtime.
“What if a performer is murdered during the performance?” I put my computer on the coffee table and paced the living room.
“That is not a happy or positive thought. Why in the world would you put that out into the universe?” Julie looked like she wanted to smack me.
“Maybe I should cancel. Is this crazy? Am I crazy?” I stood in the middle of the room and glared at Julie. I really wanted her to tell me to cancel it. Just cancel the whole festival.
“Lisa, you know I can’t tell you what to do.” Julie spoke in her calmest voice.
“I know! But I really, really want you to!” I plopped down in the middle of Julie’s living floor and lay there like a dead fish. Henry jumped off the couch and came down and licked my face.
“Henry would tell me what to do. He’s very decisive.” I told Julie.
“And I would too if I knew the answer. Detective Winn said it was best to continue, right?” Julie came over and sat cross-legged beside me on the floor.
“Plus, we have a couple of possible suspects, but no serious suspects. How are we supposed to stop something from happening when we don’t know who is going to do the thing that we are trying to stop?” Henry sat down on my chest. He looked straight down at me. I was looking up his nose. I wonder if dogs ever have nose hairs. Henry licked my chin, then he lay down with his head on my neck.
“Detective Winn seemed to feel that the people who need protected are being protected. There’s not much we can do besides that.” Julie ran her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair, as if her fingers were a brush. I patted Henry’s back.
“I just feel like we are so close. They are just too many coincidences, but then too many things that seem totally unrelated. There must be a link, some overwhelming common ground that we are missing.” I looked at my watch, 11:00. We now had just 20 hours until the performances started. My head was aching, but I just felt that we needed to locate the murderer before that start of the concert. I really felt uneasy about having the recital begin with the killer, still unknown and at large. What in the world had I gotten myself into? I was just about to say as much to Julie, when both of our phones dinged with an email notification. We reached for our phones simultaneously.
“It’s from Mother.” I said, getting my phone and the emails open, while Julie was still getting her phone unlocked. “Subject is Esther Hart’s funeral.” Julie set her phone back down, happy to let me read the email. I opened the email and read it out loud to Julie.
“Hi, girls. I forgot to forward this to you earlier and when I just got up to use the bathroom, I remembered. The attached was posted in my First Friday Tea weekly email that came out this morning. Good night, girls. Signed Mom/Patsy.” I read it out loud to Julie.
“Open the attachment.” Julie lay down on her stomach and propped up her head with her hands.
“Ok. It is taking a second to load.”
“Loaded?” Julie rolled over onto her back and put her hands under her head.
“It’s done.” I did a quick scroll to see how long it was.
“Well, read it.” Julie instructed.
“Dear First Friday Tea Members. By now, I am sure all of you have heard that our dear friend, Esther Hart, was killed last Friday. Jacob Hart and family wish to invite all to the funeral mass for Esther, next Monday at 1:00. The Mass will be celebrated at St. Matthew’s Catholic Church in Fairview.” I stopped.
“Reread that last line.” Julie sat up and moved over to look at my phone.
“The Mass will be celebrated at St. Matthew’s Catholic Church in Fairview. Julie! Esther Hart attended St. Matthew’s too!”
“It sure seems that way. Why else would her funeral be there?”
“That connects Esther to both Gina Miller and Doug Andres.”
“We appear to be getting closer.”
“Closer isn’t good enough. Julie, we have only nineteen hours to get all the way there!”