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JULIE AND I PASSED around celebratory glasses of champagne. Keeping true to the adage, the show must go on. Gianna went on and gave a fantastic performance with Keith and Melissa to finish the recital. The other ensembles that had performed tonight had gone back to their hotels, passing on the de-brief. But if anyone deserved alcoholic beverages and some de-briefing time, it was Gianna and me! Detective Winn and Officer Miles sat with us, along with Mom, Julie, Margie, and Keith, in the now empty break room. Melissa, Gianna and Keith’s pianist, also lost no time heading to her hotel.
“Barb?” I began. “Gianna, what is your connection to Barb?” I was thoroughly confused.
“Barb was a violinist. A very fine violinist, in fact. She was working on her Master’s in Violin when I started as a freshman at Birchard.” Gianna began.
“Barb and I were in the same program, same class. We had both played professionally for several years. We had just returned to Birchard to get our Master’s Degrees.” Margie picked up the story. I tried to look surprised when Margie said that. I doubt it worked.
“Margie was also a remarkable violist!” Gianna looked at Margie and smiled. “We were all students of Dr. Tate, who was here tonight.”
“You need to understand that there was an intense rivalry and animosity on Barb’s part toward Gianna from the moment Gianna arrived on campus. Gianna, as a freshman, was out-playing and out seating the established graduate students. Even those of us that had been playing professionally. Barb and me, for instance. I always admired Gianna and felt there was room for all, but Barb was angry.” Margie began.
“Every year, Evie, uh, Dr. Tate, held a big violin master class. In this particular year, the music building at Birchard was being renovated. The master class was moved to the ballrooms of a hotel downtown. A, uh, van was rented to transport the students who lived on campus to the hotel for the masterclass.” Gianna’s eyes welled up, and Keith put his arm around his wife. Gianna looked at Margie.
“As we were loading the van, Barb was getting into the front passenger seat when she slipped.” Margie continued. You could hear the pain in her voice. “To catch herself, she put her left hand in the doorway of the sliding van door. Just as Gianna shut it.” Margie’s voice also broke. We all looked at each other in horror.
“It was an accident! It all happened in a fraction of a second.” Gianna wiped her eyes. Mom handed her a box of Kleenex from her purse. Did she have an entire box of Kleenex in her purse?
“Anyway. Barb never played again. She has always had a hatred toward Gianna. I knew about it. So did Gina Miller. She was the same year we were at Birchard, but in the harp program. I never, in a million years, thought Barb would go to this extreme. She must have been festering on it at a level that I can only imagine.” Margie shook her head. Detective Winn looked at his phone.
“Barb is out of surgery. Physically, it looks like she will be alright.” Detective Winn told us.
“What happened? Did an officer shoot her?” Mom asked. After it all happened, we all had to put on cheerful faces and have the recital.
“No. When we burst in, Barb fired two shots at Gianna. One is that bullet hole you see right there.” Officer Miles showed the bullet hole in my nice new break room wall. “The other bullet ricocheted off... What is that?” Officer Miles looked at me.
“It’s a sousaphone.” I answered. A school district owned sousaphone with a large bullet dent in the bell. I will think about that later.
“Ok. It ricocheted off the sousaphone and hit Barb in the abdomen. Which took her down.” Officer Miles concluded.
“We found the fourth noose in her purse, which she left in the lobby. I think she planned to kill Gianna at another time tonight, but then found her in here and tried to go for it.” Detective Winn explained.
“What will happen to her now? I know she tried to kill me, but I still feel so much guilt about the accident.” Gianna was still fighting tears.
“I think she will be headed for some psychiatric evaluations.” Detective Winn continued. “Clearly, this was a well-thought-out, premeditated series of murders.”
“It appears in the couple of the break-ins that you had, Barb was trying to locate more information about Gianna’s whereabouts. She was looking for the paperwork with the festival details. It also seems that the bullet hole in your office wall was just a warning. She had put a lot of thought into her plan with the violin string nooses. Andrew Hacker’s phone number was found in her phone, and she had made several calls to him earlier this week, before killing him.” Office Miles elaborated.
“And she had been hiding it so well! I had plans with Barb to do a welcome baby party for her new granddaughter next week. She gave no sign at all that all of this was happening. I have no words!” Mom said, downed her champagne in one gulp and handed it to Julie for a refill.
“Margie, do you still play?” I asked. Why didn’t I know all of this about these people?
“No. I had an orchestra seat for a while. Then I had kids and had no time to practice. Now I’ve got arthritis and so many other things that I’m doing. I know I could never again play the way I did then. I’ve moved on and am very content.” Margie looked at me with a reassuring expression. I think she was trying to convey that she sincerely wasn’t resentful. Or going to murder anyone.
“Well, we better get going. We have some pretty extensive paperwork waiting for us at the station.” Detective Winn stood up, and Officer Miles followed his lead. The rest of us stood too, agreeing that it was getting late. Student groups would be attending the festival tomorrow and playing for adjudication. I was going on very few hours’ sleep at this point. Hugs and good nights were exchanged, and we all went our separate ways for the evening. I sure was going to sleep well tonight, back in my own bed!
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Two months later....
I stood in the wings of the recital hall, applauding much louder and with more enthusiasm than any other audience member.
Gianna came off-stage, winked at me, then went back out for another bow. The memorial concerts had been an enormous success! We had originally only planned on one event, but there was so much interest that we ended up doing three performances.
The recitals were in memory of Esther Hart, Andrew Hacker, and Doug Andres. Gianna came back and played three recitals, each in honor of one of the murder victims. All the proceeds were going to a scholarship fund for one or more local high school student that was going on to study music professionally. The families of all three victims were thrilled with the idea and graciously gave their blessings.
Gianna took her final bow on this sunny Sunday afternoon. As she left the stage the last time, she gave me a hug in the wings, before going back to change out of her gown. The hug said it all. There were no words.
I peeked out into the house, and the volunteers were busy watching the audience exiting and picking up any programs, or other items, that might have been left behind.
Seeing that all was going according to plan, I headed back to my office to lock up and head home. I was just about to leave my office when my phone rang.
“Hello. May I please speak to Lisa?” The voice on the other end asked.
“This is Lisa.”
“Hi, my name is Michael Stickley. I am a doctoral student in conducting at the Northwest Music Institute. Dr. Evangeline Tate gave your name. I am interested in putting together a summer orchestra series, and Dr. Tate thought you might be just the person to help me out.” Michael finished talking. I paused for a second, then a broad smile came to my face.
“You know what, Michael? I just might be that person!”
A Sneak Peek at Oboe Obituary......
THE END OF THE school year was definitely upon us once again.
“Thank you. I hope Carson enjoyed it this year.” I smiled a contrived smile at Yolanda Peters, as she brought back the trumpet her son, Carson, had been renting and playing in the school band during the last academic year. Mrs. Peters didn’t think that she should pay rent on a trumpet during the summer. She viewed the trumpet kind of like a textbook. If Carson wasn’t currently taking the class, why would he need the book, or in this case the trumpet. Heaven forbid he should be able to practice during the summer! Or take lessons. I wanted to smack her!
“Oh, he had a wonderful year!“ Yolanda Peters beamed, as I looked over the trumpet for any dings and other maladies. “Is it all good?”
“Yes. It looks like he has taken very good care of it.” I picked up my pen and checked the appropriate boxes on the rental contract. I signed and initialed it then turned the contract around on the counter and handed her the pen to do the same. “Ok, you are all set.” I kept smiling.
“Thank you, Lisa! See you in September! Carson just loves band!” Yolanda Peters smiled, and with a cheery wave of farewell, she was out the door.
“I can’t stand that woman!” Hailey Spears, my assistant manager and co-piano instructor declared once the door of the store was firmly closed. I just shook my head.
“I know people like that are part of owning and managing a music store, so you would think I would learn to let it go. But she makes me so mad!” I said putting the contract that had just been signed into the scanner.
“You’ve only had the store for what, a year and a half? Maybe the thick skin will come with time.” Hailey rolled her eyes at me, picked the box of piano books that she had just finished restocking and headed toward the storeroom with the extra method books that didn’t fit in the music bins.
The store phone rang, just as the scan saved to my flash drive.
“Hello, Fairview Music. This is Lisa. How may I help you?” Answering the phone that way never got old. Not matter how frustrating some of the customers could be.
I had grown up in Fairview, then spent several years in Los Angelos, hoping to make the big time. When that didn’t happen, combined with a personal relationship crashing hard, I decided to move back home. I had planned to just teach piano at my house, when my longtime friends, Jerry and Colette Charles - the original owners of Fairview Music - offered me a deal on Fairview Music that I could not refuse. Colette had been my piano teacher from the time I was six years old until I went to college.
I felt Fairview Music was like a second home to me. I was beyond honored to take the reigns and take the Fairview Music Store legacy on to a whole new generation of students. I would equip and train the future of music! The future of arts education. Countless children finding their joy and passion in the flute, or trumpet, or snare drum.
I blissfully continued my revery as the recording on the phone told me what day my bottled water would be delivered. As I hung up the phone, the chime on the store door rang.
“Silly me! I forgot my keys!” Yolanda Peters chirped and burst my bubble.
It had been a fairly busy day at the store and I was happy to see 6:00 arrive. I turned off the flashing neon open sign that was in the window. Garrett Neil emerged from teaching studio number one with his final guitar student of the day. Garrett smiled at Hailey and me as he walked the young boy out of the back door of the store to meet his mother.
I asked that students park in the back and use the back entrance. If they used the front entrance, people would think we were open when we weren’t and they’d go all crazy on us when we wouldn’t sell them valve oil at 8:00 at night.
“And that concludes another week!” Garrett came back in and sat down at one of the stools that I keep at the front counter. When people are filling out paperwork to purchase a several thousand dollar instrument, the least I could do was offer them a place to sit down.
“That was your last student?” Hailey asked Garrett as she climbed on the stool beside his.
“Yes. Trying to end teaching earlier on Fridays and Saturdays so I have time for weekend gigs. When I had to reschedule students, I had tons of gigs. Now that I don’t have to reschedule, no gigs. I just go home, eat ice cream and watch Christmas movies.” Garrett shrugged.
“But it’s May!” I laughed with Hailey.
“Lisa, there is no expiration date on Christmas romance!” Garrett’s eyes twinkled and I knew he was messing with us. I think.
“Well, I’m meeting Craig for a 7:30 movie, so I’m going to get my things and head on out.” Hailey got off the stool and headed back toward the break room.
“Things are going well with Craig?” I asked down the hall.
“Yeah. Yeah, they really are. No complaints!” Hailey set down her couple bags, pulled on her sweater, then picked the bags up again. “See you both on Tuesday!”
“Have a good weekend, Hailey!” I called.
“Bye, have good movie!” Garret waved as Hailey headed out the back door. “Have your stuff, Lisa? I’ll walk you out.”
“Give me one minute.” I headed into my office to gather up my own bags and sweater. Even at the end of May, the Pacific Northwest required wearing a sweater. If not a coat on some days. Fairview, Washington did all it could to live up to all the weather expectations that people had about Seattle and the neighboring vicinities.
I left the store, always grateful for Garrett’s protectiveness toward me and my other female staff and instructors. Garrett and my repair technician, Nels Haugen, were the only two male staff at Fairview music. Since I didn’t focus the business on the electric guitar, I didn’t draw a huge male contingent. My focus for the store was on education, and with the addition of the recital hall that I had recently added, real quality performance and performance opportunities. It was a dream job and I couldn’t believe it was mine!
I decided to stop at the grocery store. I was kind of in limbo about my evening. I knew that my best friend, Julie Harkness, had had a big work deadline today and, consequently, I hadn’t heard from her at all. Usually, we text back and forth during the day, but today it was crickets. Since I hadn’t heard from her at all, I suspected she was still up to her eyeballs in the project and I didn’t want to interrupt.
I parked in the store parking lot and went in. Once again, I was shopping when I was hungry and found myself definitely making some poor life choices. I happened on a box of frozen mini tacos, that were calling my name. I tossed them into my cart, along with some supplemental cheese and sour cream. I had found peace, as I knew now what I was having for dinner. One of life’s big decisions successfully made for another night. Some Oreos, snack mix and pepperoni style dog treats may also have found their way into my cart.
The dog treats are for Henry, my dachshund. I wasn’t going down junk food alley all alone!
It was already 7:30 when I got home. I had recently had a dog door installed in my kitchen door, then I would put a small dog run up against the door. This way Henry could at least go out and go potty when I had a long day. I felt this method, in addition to the study, high fence that enclosed my backyard would keep him safe and contained. When I was home, I would let him have the entire backyard to run and I would sit outside with him. The system seemed to be working.
Anyway, as a result of this recent arrangement, while Henry was always glad to see me when I got home, I didn’t have to drop everything like a hot potato, grab Henry’s leash and take him outside immediately.
I leisurely turned on the oven for the mini tacos, then set the cheese and sour cream aside. I put the rest of the groceries away, and got Henry his dinner. The oven beeped that it was up to temperature, I dumped the whole box of mini tacos onto a cookie sheet and put the whole thing into the oven. I set the timer, then went into the living room with Henry hot on my heels.
Maybe a movie tonight? I sat down on my blue denim couch. Henry hopped up on my lap.
“Did you have a long day, boy?” I snuggled him. He gave my hand lots of licks and got settled. Of course, tit was then that the oven timer went off.
“Come on, Henry.” I took him off my lap, set him on the floor and headed back into the kitchen. I got all the extra cheese and sour cream added to my Mexican feast and went back to the living room. While I do have a kitchen table, I only use it when Julie or Mom come over for brunch. All other meals are on the denim couch.
I turned on the seldom used TV, and started scrolling though all the options on the seemingly dozens of streaming services that I subscribed to, but never actually watched.
I finally settled on the Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert classic, It Happened One Night. I had seen it many times before, there was no violence, no dying, a little inconvenience, but no real trauma. Just the kind of movie for me.
I pulled a blanket over me, which Henry immediately buried himself in. I pulled up my lap tray, setting my plate of mini tacos on it, along with a tumbler of water. I pushed play on the remote and happily got a big mouthful of steaming hot mini taco. I was slurping the water, as the roof of my mouth was seared off, when my phone rang. Of course it did.
I set my taco tray down, crawled out from under the blanket and managed to answer before it finished ringing.
“Hello.” I still was chewing tacos. It sounded like it.
“Hi, is Lisa there?” A somber male voice asked. I hurried and swallowed.
“Yes, this is Lisa.” I took a quick drink of water.
“Hi Lisa, this is Michael Stickley. How are you?” Michael spoke like the voice of doom making small talk.
“Hi Michael. I’m good. How are you?” I was afraid to ask, but did anyway.
“Not good, Lisa. We have a problem! A very serious problem!”
SCAN BELOW TO ORDER YOU COPY TODAY!
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Oboe Obituary, Book 3, in the
Terrible Treble Series releases on June 1, 2022!
About the Author
BECKY WAS THE WEIRD kid in elementary school that would write stories at recess instead of playing! Finally, after 20 years of working for the schools teaching music and drama and being a church musician; then another 12 years as a successful entrepreneur having founded and directed both a children's theater and an arts-based school, Becky is now living the dream and writing full time!
Becky had her first play published at the age of 12 and was thrilled to be paid $50! Since then, Becky has written more plays and musicals than she can count, along with curriculum and other music and arts related nonfiction.
Writing Cozy Mysteries is the most fun that Becky has had writing! She feels so lucky to be able to do what gives her the most joy and her readers tons of fun, with musical characters and settings. Plus, be able to give musicians both characters and situations that they can relate to.
Becky holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in Music & Theater from Washington State University, and a Master of Education Degree from Lesley University in Curriculum Design & Instruction.
Becky lives in Washington state. She is the mother of six grown children and one very needy dachshund.