Kristi threw Elizabeth a confused glance. She pulled out her notepad and began scrawling as the woman spoke of chord progressions.
Elizabeth unfolded her conference brochure and scanned the faculty pictures. This woman wasn’t there.
“What do you think this means?” Kristi wrote on her notepad.
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders.
“Where could he be?” Kristi wrote again.
Again Elizabeth shrugged. She had no idea.
Kristi thought a moment and then wrote, “What should we do?”
Finally, Elizabeth took out her own notepad and pencil, keeping her eyes on the teacher as if she were fascinated by the woman’s words. “I guess we just stay here and try to act normal. We’ll investigate later. At least we’ll know how late he is.”
Kristi nodded, and they both tried to concentrate on Lori’s words. The woman demonstrated several chord progressions for them, and explained how each one reflected a different mood. But Elizabeth was distracted by her long, bloodred fingernails, which clicked as she played the keyboard.
If she were a serious keyboard player, she’d cut her nails, Elizabeth thought.
After nearly twenty minutes, the classroom door opened, and Robert entered. Lori acknowledged him, and he took over the lecture.
“Thank you, Lori,” he told the woman as she left the room. He slipped her a small piece of paper as she passed him.
“I see you were discussing chord progressions. Do we have any keyboard players in the room?” he asked.
He’s acting like nothing has happened! But I’m not fooled. I want to know why he was talking about Kristi’s guitar. Who was he talking to? Elizabeth tried not to glare at the man as she lifted her hand, along with a few others who played the keyboard.
“Great. There are several of you. How about you—Elizabeth, isn’t it? Would you like to come up and play some chord progressions for us?”
The nerve of that man! Elizabeth thought. Still, she painted on a tentative smile and nodded. “Certainly, Mr. Kranfield.”
“Please, call me Robert,” he said as Elizabeth took her seat at the bench. He began calling out chord progressions to her, as if to test her skill. Fortunately, chords were easy for her, and she played with ease.
“Very nice,” he said, but she thought she heard a slight edge in his voice. She heard little of what he said during the remainder of the class, and when he dismissed them, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was strange,” whispered Kristi as they headed for the classroom door. As they exited, they heard a phone ring, and looked back to see Robert answer his cell. Elizabeth led Kristi into the hall, where they waited while the other students exited. Then, pressing her back against the wall, she leaned toward the open door, straining to hear Robert’s words.
“Yeah…yeah, I got it.…No, can’t talk now. Too many people around. Meet me in my classroom in one hour. No, there’s not another class in here until late this afternoon, so we should be safe.…Okay, see you then.”
The girls heard Robert click his phone shut, and they hurried toward the exit. When they were outside the building, Kristi said, “This is getting too weird. Surely you don’t really think he’s the one, do you? He’s on staff here, at a music conference for a bunch of kids. They must have thought he was trustworthy.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You never know. If he doesn’t have a previous record of theft, the conference directors probably wouldn’t suspect him of anything. He’s a songwriter. They were probably just looking to find qualified musicians to fill their teaching needs.”
“And what about this Lori person? Do you think she’s in on it?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “No telling. I did see Robert slip her a paper as she was leaving.”
“Yeah, I saw that too.”
In the middle of their conversation, Bailey arrived. “You guys are really missing out. My choreography class is so much fun! Would you like me to show you what—” she stopped when she saw the expression on Kristi’s face. “What did I miss? Tell me everything.”
“Robert was late to class. The woman who covered for him isn’t listed on staff here. Then, after class, we overheard another of his phone conversations. He didn’t say much, but he’s meeting someone in his classroom in an hour,” Elizabeth filled her in.
“Wow. We’ve got to figure out a way to listen in on that conversation,” said Bailey.
“What do you think we should do?” asked Kristi. “Sneak in and hide?”
“There really aren’t any hiding places in that room. The desks are too small, and the podium at the front is too skinny. Hiding is out of the question,” said Elizabeth.
“I think there might have been a large desk in the back corner…” said Kristi. “But I’m not sure.”
“What about a window?” asked Bailey. “We could go in ahead of time and open a window, and then we could stand outside and listen.”
“Good idea, if the classroom were on the ground floor,” said Kristi, looking at the building behind them. “I doubt we’ll be able to hear a conversation three stories up, though.”
The girls studied the building, trying to figure out a solution.
“Bales, remember at camp when we left the cell phone in Mr. Anzer’s office?” asked Elizabeth.
“Oh yeah! Kate called your cell phone and then planted her cell phone under Mr. Anzer’s desk. We could hear every word!” Bailey exclaimed.
Kristi looked at them, wide-eyed. “That’s pretty sneaky. Did it work?”
Elizabeth and Bailey looked at each other.
“It worked perfectly,” said Elizabeth. “Unfortunately, we ended up hearing the wrong conversation.”
“Beth, I think it will work for us. After all, you have a class in there, so if Robert happens to find your phone, you can just say you left it,” Bailey said.
Elizabeth pulled out her cell phone. “Bailey, where is your phone?” she asked.
“I left it in the room, but I can go back and get it,” Bailey answered. “No, I have my phone. Here, Elizabeth, let me see yours. I’ll program my number into it,” Kristi said.
About that time, Robert exited the building. “Shouldn’t you ladies be getting to your next classes or something?” he asked.
Elizabeth glanced at her watch. We’ve got fifteen more minutes. What’s his hurry? Is he trying to get rid of us?
“Uh, yes…sir. We’re on our way,” said Kristi.
The man watched them until they disappeared around the curve.
“Whoa. What was that about?” asked Bailey. “Why was he in such a hurry for us to leave?”
“I don’t know,” said Elizabeth. “But we’re going to find out. Bailey, what is your next class?”
“I was thinking of attending the stage performance class. They’re supposed to teach us how to play to a crowd,” she said.
Elizabeth laughed. “I don’t think you need much help there, Bailey. Where is that class?”
“It’s in the main conference room, where we had the welcome last night. That room has the biggest stage.”
“Do you think you can sneak out of it, maybe go to the bathroom or something, at ten forty-five?” Elizabeth asked.
“Sure. I think we’re supposed to take turns on the stage, so I’ll see if I can go first. Then I’ll probably be done by ten forty-five,” Bailey said.
“Okay, you take Kristi’s phone since we don’t have time to go back to the room. Kristi, where are you headed?”
Kristi looked at her schedule. “Let’s see.…I think I’ll go to the keyboarding class. I’m great on the guitar, but my piano skills lack a bit.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I know what you mean. Only I’m the opposite. I can play the keyboard, but my guitar skills need work. But can you slip out at around…ten thirtyish?”
“Sure. What do you need me to do?” Kristi asked.
“I need you to meet me right here,” Elizabeth said.
“Who would like to perform first?” the instructor, Mrs. Crenshaw, asked. Bailey was the first to lift her hand.
“You there,” the woman called on her. “What is your name?”
Bailey stood and smiled her million-dollar smile. “My name is Bailey Chang,” she said.
“Well Bailey, why don’t you come on up here. Did you bring a song to perform for us today?”
“You bet,” said Bailey, pulling the accompaniment CD from her backpack. She handed it to Mrs. Crenshaw and walked onto the stage with confidence.
“Hold on,” Mrs. Crenshaw told her. “That was a pretty good entrance, but the audience wasn’t ready for you yet. I’m going to teach you how to enter like a rock star! You want to wait until the audience is leaning forward, looking for you. Then, you make a grand entrance at the last possible second! Why don’t you come back down here and try that again.”
Bailey did as she was told, waiting while her teacher placed the CD in the player. “Bailey, I want you to wait until after the music has started. The audience will hear the music, but they will see an empty stage. They’ll start looking for you, and that’s when you need to begin your entrance. You should arrive at the microphone just as you are to begin singing.”
The music began, and Bailey walked onto the stage. She arrived at the microphone a good four measures before she started singing.
Mrs. Crenshaw stopped the CD. “That was better, Bailey. But you were still too early. Figure out how much time it will take you to get to the microphone, and give yourself just that much time. You want to arrive center stage just as you open your mouth to sing.”
And so Bailey started again, and began the performance four different times before she made it to the end of the song. She was so caught up in the thrill of it, she forgot to keep an eye on her watch.
Elizabeth slipped out of her seat on the back row of her guitar class and out the door. If anyone asked, she’d say she needed to use the ladies’ room. It was the truth.
Kristi was waiting for her in front of the building. “Are you ready to do this?” she asked.
“I think so,” Elizabeth answered. “I need you to stay here and stand guard. If Robert shows up, stall him until I get back. The last thing I need is for him to catch me planting the phone!”
“How do you know he’s not already in there?” Kristi asked.
Elizabeth pulled out her conference brochure. “I’m pretty sure this says…” she scanned the paper. “Here it is. Robert Kranfield is one of the panelists in the Question and Answer Session. That’s in the other building. Since he told the person to meet him here in an hour, I’m guessing he’ll slip out around eleven o’clock.”
Kristi looked unsure.
“Look, if he shows up, just act like you have a question about songwriting. I’ll probably be back long before he shows up, anyway,” Elizabeth reassured her.
Biting her bottom lip, Kristi sat on a nearby bench. “I’ll do my best.”
Elizabeth went into the building and found the elevator, then punched the button for the fourth floor. Or was it the third floor? No, I’m pretty sure it was the fourth.
She got off the elevator and looked to her right, then to her left. Which way was the classroom? Man! Why did I have to inherit my mother’s sense of direction?…I think it’s this way.
Elizabeth turned to the left. She remembered there was a sign on the door—something about songwriting? She walked to the end of the hall, checking every door. No songwriting classes. She turned and walked to the opposite end, but she still couldn’t find the room. Why did they all have to look alike? Why couldn’t they paint each of the doors a different color or something? She could remember colors, just not numbers.
She walked back to the center of the hall, in front of the elevator, and just stood looking from her right to her left. I can’t find it. What do I do now?
Then she remembered. Maybe it was on the third floor after all. She got back into the elevator and went down one floor. Stepping into the hall, she heard the elevator doors close behind her. Looking from side to side, she thought, It looks exactly the same as the fourth floor. I’ll never find it.
She was still standing there, trying to decide which way to go first, when the elevator doors opened behind her again and someone nearly crashed into her. It was Lori!
“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. You’re…” the woman looked at Elizabeth’s name tag, “Elizabeth. I remember you from this morning. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Uh, yes. But I, uh…was just looking for the bathroom,” Elizabeth told her.
“Oh, I can help you. It’s this way,” Lori eyed her suspiciously, and then led her down the hallway to the left.
On the way, Elizabeth noticed the sign she was looking for. Bingo! she thought. “Thanks,” she called, and entered the door. She hovered just inside the ladies’ room, holding the door open a crack, watching where Lori was headed.
Another woman, a faculty member, was headed toward her. She stopped to talk to Lori, of all places, right in front of the door to the songwriting classroom.
They talked.
And talked.
Kristi passed the minutes by looking over an old copy of Musician’s Digest she kept in her backpack. She was in the middle of an article about her dad—she loved reading it over and over—when she heard someone approach. It was Robert Kranfield.
The young man nearly walked right past her into the building before she found her voice. “Uh…excuse me,” she called.
He kept walking. Was he ignoring her?
“Uh, Mr. Kranfield?” she called, louder this time. Finally, as he was opening the glass door, she called, “Robert!”
The man paused, turned, and looked at her.
“Did you need something?” he asked. She couldn’t quite read the expression in his eyes.
Leaving her things on the bench, she approached him, talking as she walked. “I…uh…yes, sir. I had some questions about…um…chord progressions.”
He looked her square in the eyes, as if in disbelief. “You have a question about chord progressions?”
“Yes, sir,” she nodded.
Robert laughed. “Well now, that is a surprise. I would think that you of all people…” He stopped midsentence. “I’m busy now. It’ll have to wait,” and he turned to go.
“Oh no!” She reached out, desperate to stop him. “This is very important!” She accidentally bumped his arm, causing him to drop his briefcase. Sheet music and staff paper scattered everywhere, along with magazines, article clippings, photographs, and a key.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Kristi knelt to gather his things for him.
The man tried to stop her, but it was too late. Kristi picked up an article about her dad. And another. And on the floor to her left was a picture of him. And the sheet music? Half of it was written by her dad. She wasn’t sure what to think.
Elizabeth watched through the crack in the door as the two women finished talking. The stranger turned and went in the opposite direction. Lori dug through her purse, and then went back to the elevator. She must have forgotten something. The coast clear, Elizabeth darted down the hall to the songwriting classroom. So far, so good.
Inside, she looked around for a good hiding place for her phone. Shoved in a back corner was a large teacher’s desk. Kristi had been right. The rest of the room was pretty bare bones, with chairs and a podium. No good hiding places, even for a small phone. She’d put it under a corner of the desk.
Leaning against the desk, she dialed Kristi’s number. Finally, the plan was underway. The phone rang…and rang. Why isn’t Bailey answering?
Bailey had finally gotten to perform her song all the way through, and the room rang with applause. She took a grand bow, and Mrs. Crenshaw beamed.
“Excellent performance, Bailey! You are a natural. Now, who would like to be next?”
A couple of students lifted their hands, and as the noise in the room faded, sounds of a cell phone rose. Mrs. Crenshaw looked annoyed. “Students, please remember to turn your phones off before class.”
The ringing continued.
“Would someone please answer that?” the woman directed. No one moved.
The ringing continued.
Bailey descended the stage, remembering for the first time that she was supposed to listen for her cell phone. But that ring wasn’t her cell phone. Hers played “Oh, When the Saints Go Marching In,” and this ring was just a standard cell phone ring.
Then she remembered. She didn’t have her phone. She was supposed to be listening for Kristi’s phone!’