Chapter 3

I looked behind me in case someone had materialized since I’d turned my back. Nope. No such luck.

“Me?” I squeaked.

“You were in this room earlier.” The woman’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of her head as she stomped her red cowboy boot–clad feet. “I saw you.”

Was she kidding? She actually thought I played arts and crafts with another team’s costumes?

Trying to keep calm, I explained, “I wanted to meet Scott and talk about our master class.”

“Then why, Ms. Marshall, did I see you going into other staging rooms earlier today?”

A tall blonde appeared behind LuAnn.

“Christine.” The way LuAnn said the name told me everything I needed to know. This was Christine McCann—the head of the National Show Choir Championships. “Thank goodness you’re here. Never have I seen such a blatant attempt to sabotage another team.”

“I didn’t sabotage anything,” I shot back.

So much for my attempt to remain calm.

“No one’s accusing you of anything.” Christine took a step into the room, carefully skirting the fabrics on the floor.

“But, Christine.” LuAnn frowned. “I saw her—”

Christine held up her hand, cutting off whatever new accusation LuAnn planned to hurl. “This competition is filled with high-strung teenagers with a competitive streak. I think it’s far more likely one of them caused this kind of damage. This wouldn’t be the first time a rivalry between teams bubbled over.” Christine sighed and turned her attention to the man to my left. “Scott, I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help you get replacement costumes.”

Angry and excited whispers from the hall told me the story of the costumes was spreading. Turning to me, Christine added, “And just to make sure there is no whisper of impropriety on your behalf, Ms. Marshall, could you please explain why you were near this room when LuAnn made this discovery and what you were doing in the other staging rooms earlier today?”

The way she glanced over her shoulder at the people hovering in the doorway told me that whatever I said was going to determine whether I would be branded a saboteur by the masses. If that happened, I wouldn’t be the one to pay the price—my team would.

Was that fair? No. But if there was one thing I had learned from my performing career, it was that fair rarely applied to show business.

Projecting my voice so everyone listening could hear, I explained how Scott and I bumped into each other at the master class and came upstairs to talk about our turn at teaching tomorrow. “And the director of my choir program and I were looking in the other staging rooms to see if we were the only ones who had chosen not to load in due to the broken loading dock door.” Okay, that wasn’t really the truth, but sometimes honesty was definitely not the best policy.

Christine nodded. “I appreciate your candor and your willingness to answer the question. If I were in your position, I might not be so understanding. Please accept my apology for asking. Also, I apologize for the loading dock malfunction. I’m hopeful the mechanic will arrive and everything will be back to normal tomorrow. Now, LuAnn, if you could please track down one of the teachers from each of the teams, I would like them to check their staging rooms for signs of tampering. Scott, let me know if you or your team need anything at all. Kelly?”

The dark-haired woman I’d seen earlier in the check-in area stepped around several people and walked into the room. “I’m here.”

“Good. Please meet with each coach and document any and all damage. Also, contact the media who were supposed to come today and ask them if they can reschedule. We want them to focus on the teams and their talent, not a juvenile prank.”

With that she turned and headed toward the door. Kelly followed behind her. Shooting a disgruntled look at me, LuAnn hitched the enormous purple purse she was carrying onto her shoulder and walked out of the room, leaving Scott and me alone with the mess.

“Nine,” Devlyn said as we stood in the corner of the lobby, trying to ignore the looks we were getting from the teens and adults in the large, chandelier-lit space. “Nine other teams reported some kind of damage to the belongings. The good news is that none of it was as bad as Scott’s team. A few ripped dresses, some missing cummerbunds, and a couple of missing instrument mouthpieces. Christine has already made arrangements to replace the mouthpieces and has asked one of the local costume designers to help with the rest.”

I took a sip out of the water bottle Devlyn handed me. “Were all the teams from the mixed division?”

“That’s what it sounds like. Ten out of the twelve teams have been sabotaged in some way. Only Music in Motion and Donna Hilty’s team from here in Nashville escaped the vandal unscathed. Because of her family emergency, she decided not to have the kids load in their costumes and instruments until she was here to supervise. Guess we both got lucky.”

I glanced past Devlyn to where the sour-faced LuAnn stood whispering to a group of women while pointing at me. Luck wasn’t what I would call this particular turn of fate.

Trying to ignore them and the unease growing inside me, I said, “I helped Scott go through all the costumes. A lot of the tears were on the seams, and the costumes that were shredded the worst weren’t going to be used anyway. Scott brought them in case of emergency. So it could have been worse.”

“Well, that’s good. I hope Christine will find the person behind this and things will go back to normal. Or at least as normal as a show choir competition can be.” Devlyn grinned.

“She was there,” LuAnn’s shrill voice rang out.

My smile faded as everyone in the lobby went quiet.

LuAnn didn’t seem to notice as she waved her arms in the air. “I’m telling you. We’ve never had this kind of trouble before, and she’s had all sorts of run-ins with the law. Those kinds of things probably gave her ideas. Mark my words: This will just get worse until she and her team are sent packing.”

I looked back at Devlyn and sighed. Yeah, something told me things weren’t going to get back to normal anytime soon.

We met the students back in our staging room after the morning master classes let out. News about the sabotage had already spread, and emotions were running high. Several of the girls looked decidedly freaked. A bunch of the guys took the opportunity to strut and flex their muscles and promise to guard our costumes when we loaded them in. The macho routine might have worked had it not been for the bright matching tie-dyed shirts they were wearing. The phrase “I’m too sharp to B-flat” printed on streaks of pink, yellow, and violet wasn’t exactly bodyguard attire.

But while most students showed concern over the plight of the other teams and worry about what might befall us when we loaded in, there was one person who wasn’t disturbed by the recent happenings. Chessie. Despite the downturned mouth and the wringing hands, there was excitement and satisfaction in her eyes. The girl had a powerhouse voice and great dance technique, but her acting needed serious work. And while everyone else looked shocked by this turn of events, Chessie didn’t seem at all surprised.

This couldn’t be good.

“The bus is waiting outside,” Larry announced. “We’re going back to the hotel to pick up the band before heading to lunch. The band will come back here for rehearsal.”

“One second,” I said as kids started to bolt for the door. When they stopped and turned, I said, “If anyone hears or learns anything about what happened today, I expect you to talk to Mr. DeWeese, Mr. O’Shea, or me immediately. Mrs. McCann is determined to get to the bottom of these incidents. The sooner that happens, the sooner we can focus on why we came here. Got it?”

Chessie looked down at the floor as the rest of the team nodded. Yep. Something was going on here. And from the way Chessie’s boyfriend, Eric Metz, was looking at her, I’d say he agreed.

“Hey, Larry said he can handle lunch with the kids by himself,” Devlyn said, putting a hand on my arm. “That means you and I can eat on our own and you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Aside from being accused of playing Jack the Seam-Ripper?” I asked. “I’d say that’s more than enough.”

“Maybe for other people. But I know you’re not like everyone else. Come on.”

As soon as the bus headed to the hotel with Larry and the team on board, Devlyn and I walked down the sidewalk on the hunt for food. The early April sun was bright, making me sweat in my tan pants and long-sleeved cream-colored shirt. But I didn’t care. Just being away from the trouble at the performing arts center made me breathe easier, and being here with Devlyn . . . Well, that didn’t hurt, either. I reached out for his hand, but came up empty as he pulled away.

“Sorry,” he said, giving me an apologetic smile. “There could be other teachers or students around. The last thing we need is to add any more confusion to this week, right?”

“Sure,” I agreed, even though the knot in my stomach made it clear I didn’t.

Devlyn didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as he kept an eye out for the perfect restaurant while talking about the conversation he’d instigated with Christine McCann. “I can see why she and Greg Lucas got along so well. She certainly likes attention from men.”

“Did you tell her you were gay?”

“I would have thought my outfit today would have made that obvious.”

The powder-blue dress shirt was layered over a T-shirt of bright pink. The shiny gray pants and bright pink high-tops completed the outfit. Still, despite the color palette, there was something about the way he looked at the women we passed that belied the gay persona he worked to exude.

“Aside from the flirting, I think the conversation was productive. Don’t be surprised if you get a lot of attention from the attending media.”

“Why?”

“Christine’s been using the story of the novice show choir coach who has been inspiring her students to greatness ever since finding a championship-level director dead and helping bring his killer to justice.” Devlyn pointed to a small Italian restaurant and ushered me inside. “She said the story’s drawn larger than usual media interest, which is probably why she jumped to your defense this morning.”

“That might also have something to do with the fact that I didn’t have anything to do with the sabotage.”

Devlyn gave my hand a pat as a waitress led us to a small, butcher paper–covered table in the back. Once we were seated, Devlyn assured me that no one who knew me would ever think I’d have anything to do with the destruction. “Screwing people to get ahead is tried and true, but totally not your style.”

“What is my style?” I asked, feeling the warmth of Devlyn’s smile melt the icy knot in my stomach.

“You work hard. You fight for what you believe in, and as much as you want to succeed you’d never take the easy way out. Cutting up other people’s costumes is the cheap way to achieve a goal. You wouldn’t consider that kind of win a victory.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” His hand found mind under the table and gave it a squeeze. “You try to do what’s right even when it lands you in danger. It’s a trait that scares me to death. Which is why I wanted to talk to you alone. That woman’s accusations aren’t making you consider doing something crazy, are they?”

“Like what?”

Devlyn raised an eyebrow. “Like trying to track down the person responsible for this morning’s incidents.”

I blinked. “Why would I do that?”

Devlyn laughed. “Because you can’t seem to help yourself. But I guess I don’t have to worry about that this time, which is good. I don’t know if I could handle it if you ended up in danger again.” All traces of laughter faded as Devlyn’s eyes met mine. The intensity of emotion in them made my breath catch and my heart beat faster. “Between musical rehearsals and competitions and grading papers, we haven’t had a lot of time to spend on us.”

“Life’s been pretty busy,” I agreed as the waitress brought us a basket of warm bread and took our drink orders. Iced tea for Devlyn. Water with lime for me. If I was going to audition for the Lyric Opera, I needed to keep my throat hydrated.

Just thinking about the plane ticket confirmation sitting in my inbox made the guilt I’d almost squelched bubble anew. But maybe Devlyn was right. Maybe I did take the hard path too often. I bet if I told him about the audition, he’d inform me that the kids would hardly notice that I was gone and that I would be insane not to take this opportunity. Devlyn wanted the best for me. And wasn’t that following my dreams?

By the time the waitress returned with our drinks and took our order, I had decided to tell Devlyn everything. Only he started talking first.

“School’s kept me busy, but that’s not the main reason we haven’t spent as much time together as I’ve wanted.” Devlyn frowned. “I figured it was best to wait until the end of the school year before we really explored a relationship. That way if we decide it isn’t working, we don’t have to worry about anyone else finding out. No reason to complicate things at work if we don’t have to.”

The bread I’d just swallowed felt like lead as it traveled to my stomach. “You’re worried about people at work finding out?”

Devlyn shook his head. “Not really. Although, I’d rather not have to deal with that until we absolutely have to, and I thought summer would give us more time to just focus on us. Especially after everything that’s happened over the last couple months. Some alone time away from the kids and the craziness will give us time to talk about the things we really want out of life.” Devlyn’s fingers tightened on mine. “Once the musical is over, I’d like us both to start putting some more effort into this relationship. The way things are going, I think we have a real chance at building a future, both at the school and in our personal lives—together. What do you think?”