After a hasty breakfast, Olivia drove to the Lily Rock Music Academy. Tap, tap, tap from a woodpecker rose above the rustle of branches. With her autoharp under her arm, she walked to the auditorium. The main entry doors stood open.
Olivia unpacked her instrument first, leaving it on top of the piano. She dragged a stool from behind the curtain to sit on. No sign of Sweet Four O'Clock yet.
A few minutes later Sage arrived. "So sorry I'm late. I had a phone call from an irate parent. She wants to pull her child out of the academy because he didn't make first chair in the orchestra."
"Is first chair a political appointment?"
"Not at the Lily Rock Music Academy. We hold auditions behind visual screens. The faculty can't see the player. They select the musician who sounds the best and then afterward, the names are announced.”
Resting her fiddle case on the back of the piano, Sage sighed. "A lot of music prep schools give out scholarships and first chairs to the children of wealthier parents. We've been able to avoid that in the past. But now that we have our own governing board, I'm not sure I can dismiss a donor's special request. The board wants to improve the campus, and that means they must court the wealthy parents."
"Hey, ladies," a voice interrupted. Dave Franco stood wearing a Lily Rock T-shirt, jeans, and a pork pie hat sitting back on his head. "Sorry I'm late. I had to help a student with a math assignment early this morning."
Olivia smiled at Dave. Is the hat a fashion statement or an attempt to hide some premature balding? He's probably mid-forties by now.
"Where's Paul?" Sage asked Dave. "He called last night and said he'd be here."
"And here I am," said a low voice. Paul, dressed in a T-shirt and cargo shorts, moved toward the stage. He rolled a standup bass, big enough to contain an average-sized person. "A couple of kids asked me some questions outside, which held me up. How are you, Olivia?"
"Just fine, Paul. I see you’re still a Christian." She pointed to the large cross that hung around his neck.
"Can't seem to shake ol’ Jesus," he admitted. "You have a problem with that?"
"Not at all," Olivia assured him. "I pray the Psalms all the time."
"You go to church?"
"I don't have to go to church to pray."
Paul shrugged. "Can't say I go that much now that I've been gigging more. Sat in on a great jazz combo down the hill last week."
Sage spoke up. "Okay, enough chitchat. I have to get back and soothe the feelings of some more parents. Which tune do you want to warm up on?"
As the rest of the band readied themselves, Olivia heard voices from the back of the auditorium where a group of teens had gathered. Must be their lunch hour too. Let's see if anyone likes old-time country tunes.
Sage began to noodle on her fiddle. Soon Olivia joined, strumming chords on the autoharp. Her right hand picked up a syncopated rhythm as Dave's hands smoothed a backbeat with his conga. Finally Paul joined in, beginning with a slow improvised riff on his standup bass.
An old-time tune, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken”, filled the auditorium. The kids in the back stopped talking as Sweet Four O'Clock played and Olivia began to sing.
Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, by and by?
Is a better home awaiting
In the sky, in the sky?
Her voice twanged in the lower register. It wasn't until she rounded the corner into the final verse that her voice rose, filling the entire auditorium.
At the end of the song a loud clap rang out from the back. "You are amazing," called a boy making his way toward the stage. He offered Olivia his outstretched hand. "Could the Tone Rangers use that song for our set?"
She smiled, taking his hand. "The Tone Rangers?"
"Our a cappella group. I'm Legend Watner, by the way, the bass in the group."
Legend Watner's wearing a dress and I'm not sure if he's a girl or a boy.
"You can certainly compose an unaccompanied arrangement for “Will the Circle Be Unbroken”. It's in the public domain, you just have to do a search on the internet. I want to warn you though, the words are very Christian."
"The words are about salvation," Paul added, fingering his cross. "Are you familiar?"
Legend smiled. "Haven't a clue. I just like the tune and the way she sang the words." He pointed to Olivia, who was now aware that Sage was tapping her foot, waiting for their conversation to be over.
"Time for you to get back to studying,” she told Legend. "You have a big exam coming up."
Legend shrugged. "I know, but I think this school should have, you know, more relevant classes, like what this band is playing. Not just some old European stuff."
Sage cleared her throat. "I've heard this complaint before, Legend. We can address your concerns later, but now it's time for class."
"Yes, ma'am."
As he walked back up the aisle, Olivia turned to Sage. "Boy or girl or does it matter?"
"Legend identifies as she/her."
Olivia nodded. "I'll try to remember. This pronoun thing throws me. You must have a lot of that considering the academy is full of young artists searching for their identity."
"Don't get me started. It's hard to remember who is who, and then some students change from one day to the next. I do my best. I think it's important for me to pay attention at the very least."
Dave sauntered over to Olivia and Sage. "Pretty cool when the kids like our style of music. Do you want us to sing at the parent weekend recital on Sunday?"
"It may work." Sage nodded. "I have a few bands lined up, mostly staff performances. Sweet Four O'Clock would be distinctly different than the others, but then—"
"We've always been different," finished Olivia. "It's our brand."
"I, for one, am looking forward to the parent weekend. I haven't stayed on a campus since I was at Berklee."
"You went to Berklee College of Music?" Olivia's voice filled with respect. "They produce a lot of good musicians. Did you audition?"
"In those days acceptance wasn't hard at all. They had rolling admissions and pretty much took everyone with a pulse who had the tuition. By the first year over half of the freshman dropped out, or if they were really good, gave up on college and went on tour."
"Did you need an SAT score?" asked Olivia.
"I got a great SAT score the first time I took it. Tests have never been a problem for me for some reason.
"Admission isn't like that now," Sage admitted. "All of my students are here to get the best grades and test scores and to audition to get acceptance to an Ivy League school. The seniors, like Legend, spend all their time searching for an original sound. He—I mean she—joined the premier a cappella group called the Tone Rangers as a bass. But lately Legend surprised everyone by shifting to falsetto. Now that she wants to sing the soprano melodies, Abbey’s nose is out of joint. She was the original soprano. The group is in turmoil with auditions coming up next month. Not a good sign."
Now I know I don't want Sage's job.
"Honey, you have some real challenges as the school director,” Olivia said. “How does a bass become a soprano, I ask?"
"You can talk to Legend about all of that if you like. She's not shy."
"I can check in with her on parent weekend. I don't suppose I can accompany the Tone Rangers on autoharp?" Olivia asked innocently.
Paul and Dave laughed together, pointing to Sage. "Just try to make that happen," said Paul.
"I dare you," added Dave.
Sage grinned. "You know the definition of a cappella."
"That's not even the point," chuckled Dave. "Even if they sing unaccompanied, I'd sure like to see Olivia make the autoharp cool again."
Olivia's voice flared. "The autoharp is cool! How dare you!" Her face collapsed into a grin. "Oh, I know. You don't have to answer that. The autoharp is never cool. That's why I love it so. The misfit of folk instruments. Even the banjo has a better reputation."
Olivia glanced to the back of the room where a clock hung above the exit doors. "I've got to go. I told Janis Jets I'd meet her at the constabulary for my job introduction."
"You're going to be a cop?" Dave's eyes widened. "I know you've solved a couple of crimes in the past, but cops—they're a different breed. I had no idea you were going to take up police work seriously."
Olivia held up her hands in protest. "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm just a temporary assistant while Janis finds a replacement. I think the job will only be a few months, then I'll be looking for another."
Dave scratched his head. "I heard you were loaded."
"And that is just rumor. I have—I mean, we have," she glanced at Sage, "a nice house, which is expensive to keep up. There's a little extra income but not much. Gotta have a side hustle to support the music. It's the way of the world."
"I understand making ends meet. That's why I tutor. Linnea and I do our best, but some months we have nothin' left in our account until the next paycheck."
"Money problems?"
"Our landlord is kicking us out in a month. He says it’s for renovations, but I know it's because we’re three months behind in our rent. He doesn't want to look like a jerk, so he's made up a big excuse. Linnea is upset. She's pregnant, you know."
"Congratulations," said Olivia. "When's the baby due?"
"February some time. I still can't believe I'm going to be a dad."
"I'm sure you'll be a great dad," Olivia assured him. "Your baby will be beautiful, tall and blond and wear stylin' hats just like Papa."
Dave smiled in response, but his eyes did not agree.
He looks really anxious. I wonder if he's ready for this big change in his life. A family can't make it on his bass improv licks and small-town tutoring gigs for very long.
Olivia’s phone rang, interrupting her thoughts.
"Where the hell are you," demanded the voice of Janis Jets.
"I thought we said two o'clock. It is Saturday, you know," added Olivia. She glanced at her cell phone.
And I'm not even late.
"I did not say two o'clock. Are you hard of hearing or deliberately obtuse? I can fire you before you even start the job with that attitude." Janis's voice continued to lecture Olivia, as she tuned out. She tuned back in just in time to hear, "You were rehearsing?"
"That's it. Got it in one," Olivia replied.
She's so talkative and intense.
"Stop with the messing around. We have work to do. Antonia left the place in a mess and I have to fill you in on the latest town shenanigans."
"I will see you soon," Olivia assured Janis, adding, "boss."
"Don't call me that," shouted Jets, "I can't stand being called boss. Reminds me of my first captain, a complete jerk."
"I'll see you in a few minutes." She clicked off the cell phone and slipped it into her back pocket. The last one to leave, Olivia packed up her autoharp. She slung the strap over her shoulder and walked toward the exit.
Olivia parked her car in front of the constabulary. After locking up she walked the short distance over the boardwalk to the entrance. A nudge to her knee made her jump. "Oh hi, M&M. I thought you'd be sleeping by the back door today:"
Tail wagging, Mayor Maguire made his way around Olivia and sat at her right knee. "Let's see what our pal Janis is up to, shall we?" She opened the door, stepping aside to let the dog go first. Her gut clenched. At first glance, the office looked a shambles.
What a mess! Janis wasn't kidding, she does need an assistant.
Crumpled fast food bags lay in a mound alongside two staplers and a three-hole punch. Papers were strewn across the desk, some tumbling to the floor.
A trash can nearby had been turned upside down, two empty plastic water bottles lying on top. Even the desk chair, spun to its lowest adjustment, faced the blank wall behind the desk.
I know what I'll be doing today.
Olivia stood behind her new desk looking for a place to store her belongings. She had to push the contents of the bottom desk drawer to the back to make way for her oversized tote. Maybe Janis is in her back office…
When she stood in front of the glass doors that separated the reception area from the cells, the sensor lit up as the glass swished open.
I bet Janis is in her office.
On the walk down the hall, Olivia glanced to the right and left. All the doors of the interrogation rooms stood ajar. As she stepped closer to Janis's office she felt a twinge of apprehension. An unexpected sound caught her attention.
What is that?
A soft voice came from the direction of Janis’s office.
She moved closer to the wall, edging forward one step at a time.
"I know, sweetie. I feel the same about you," came a seductive drawl.
Wait a minute, that's not my Janis. I've never heard that tone of voice before.
Olivia shook her head to clear her hearing.
Janis never speaks like that. What happened to her usual harsh repartee?
Olivia felt a cold chill run down her spine. As she lifted her hair off her neck, the most ominous sound of all flowed from Jets's office. Something Olivia never dreamed was possible assaulted her ears.
Janis Jets giggled.
No way, I must have heard wrong.
Then it came again, a chirp then a string of them, like a bird’s warning call.
At that moment, her heart in her throat, Olivia knew for certain: The world is coming to an end.
Once she regained her composure, she moved toward the giggling sound, determined to find out what had gone wrong. The rolling giggles kept coming at her, growing louder as she approached.
Olivia stood in the doorway. Her jaw dropped at the unexpected sight.
Jets's back was turned to the doorway, giving Olivia time to suppress a gasp. Gone was the usual tidy bun at the back of Janis's neck. Instead, thick wavy hair tumbled to her shoulders, layered to perfection in a mass of curls.
I had no idea she had that much hair, and look, those are blond highlights.
Olivia kept her silence, holding in her shock.
Unaware that Olivia watched her, Janis continued. "I know, baby. I have to go back to work. But listen, I hired an assistant, and she can run things so that we can get away around Halloween. Does that work for you? I hope you can wait that long." Janis laughed, the deep growl of seduction rolling from the back of her throat.
"Stop it!" giggled Janis. "You are incorrigible."
"Ahem," Olivia cleared her throat.
Janis's chair swiveled around. Her gray eyes grew round when she saw Olivia. "Just a minute," she said to the person on the other end of the line, "I have someone in my office. Can I call you back?" Janis clicked off her cell phone.
"'Bout time you got here. I've been waiting."
Olivia shrugged. "Looks like you had plenty to do."
"You're the one with plenty to do," Jets retorted. "I want the reception area cleaned up as soon as possible. Tonight, if you have to. How can I do business with that mess?"
"Nice outfit," Olivia noted.
Jets wore a plunging blue top that exposed part of her cleavage.
"Looks like you've been outdoors, you know, with the tan and all." Olivia swept her hand over her own blouse.
"I have naturally olive-toned skin, I'll have you know. It just doesn't show in my uniform."
"Speaking of uniform, what happened to the blue blazer, and where are you hiding your weapon in that outfit?"
Janis stood, stretching her spine to her full 5'11'' frame. "If you must know, I came right to work."
"Sure you did," Olivia smirked. "Your leather pants add a whole new dimension to your police presence, I'll give you that. Is this a new look for cops?"
Tongue in cheek, Olivia. Don't give in to giggles. Is now the time to mention the thigh-high leather boots with chunky heels?
"Why would you say that?" Janis tugged at her skin-tight black pants, adjusting the waistband. "I'm just a little dressed up, that's all."
"How long have you been 'just a little dressed up'?" inquired Olivia, her eyes still innocent.
Janis ran a hand through her flowing hair. "Enough about me. Time for you to get to work." From the corner of her eye, she looked longingly at her cell phone. "I have an important call to make, so you can take this trash can and start sorting out that reception desk. No one has sat there in some time."
Olivia full-on smiled. "I think I saw a rodent underneath the stack of papers munching on an old cheeseburger wrapper."
"Look at you, Ms. Amateur Sleuth. Nice work. Go away. I've got things to do right now." Janis sat back down behind her desk, reaching for her cell phone.
Olivia waved, easing her way out of the doorway. Sure she has things to do. Like call her boyfriend or girlfriend back and finish the conversation.
Five o'clock came and went as Olivia looked at each paper on her desk. Her cell phone buzzed. "Ready for dinner?" asked Michael before she had a chance to say hello. "Pick you up in five minutes…"
She nearly dropped the phone. "I forgot about our reservation." Then she hastily added, "I'm not avoiding our dinner. I came in for a quick chat with Janis and she put me to work. Have you seen the constabulary office lately?"
A big sigh brushed past her ear. "I haven't been to the constabulary in a couple of weeks. Every time I call Janis, she doesn't pick up. I was hoping she'd finally taken some time off, you know, for a vacation. I pictured her in uniform, with her weapon hidden in her waistband behind that navy blue blazer, somewhere on the beach."
Olivia laughed. Do I tell him what I saw?
"It is a bit of a challenge thinking of Janis Jets on vacation. Before today I always thought the bun was fake, stuck on with tape and a chewed piece of gum."
Michael snorted. "All kidding aside about Janis, Lily Rock has been pretty quiet since the last time you stirred up trouble."
Olivia knew he was right. "I really am sorry about our dinner plans. Can I make another reservation in a couple of days for us?"
"I'll make the reservation since I know the chef. But Olivia…I won't wait forever. I want to step up our relationship and I think you do too."
"Of course you do. I want to have dinner, Michael. I do. It's just that something is off with Janis." She heard the worry in her own voice.
He inhaled quickly. "What do you mean something is off?"
"Did you know she has shoulder-length wavy hair with blond highlights and that she wears leather pants?"
"She does not!" he retorted. "The next thing you're gonna tell me is that Janis goes out on dates."
Olivia waited, letting his assumption sink in.
"She goes out on dates?" Michael's voice grew warm and filled with wonder.
"Yes, she does. But that's not the worst part." Olivia gulped, and then added,
"Janis Jets giggles. She giggled, Michael, to someone on the phone."
A low sound erupted from the back of his throat. He growled, "We've got trouble right here in Lily Rock. Maybe it's time for me to get down there and check things out for myself."