When Olivia could finally stomach being around food again, she leaned against a tree trunk to take a breath. Students and parents filled every nook and cranny of the Curated Cuisine. Olivia could not find a table with an available seat. She looked past the piled plates in the corner.
Standing room only near the wall.
Cookie Kravitz stood in his usual place, watching the room with arms folded. When he saw Olivia a slight smile came to the corner of his mouth. He walked closer. "You look like you could use some more coffee," he commented dryly.
Her stomach dipped. "Actually, some tea would be good right now." She ran her hand through her hair, the back of her neck feeling sticky since the helicopter adventure and the resulting stomach upset.
She could feel Cookie watching her as she made her way toward the hot beverage bar.
What tea would Meadow pick in such a circumstance?
She imagined herself telling Meadow, "I was threatened by a man while trapped in a helicopter over the Lily Rock trail, where a man died only a day ago. Is there a tea for such a situation?"
She reached for chamomile and lavender. Pots of hot water simmered, steam rising from each spout. She grabbed one handle and poured the scalding water over her tea bag. As soon as she placed the pot back, a student helper swooped down to take the container to the kitchen for a refill.
"I'm the refill guy," he said to Olivia over his shoulder, his back disappearing through the kitchen.
Olivia held the hot mug in her hand as she looked over the room. Cookie remained in his usual spot with arms folded over his chest in his customary pose. He surveyed the dining room like a hunter looking for prey.
Olivia walked toward Cookie, still holding the hot mug of tea. She turned to stand beside him, taking in his perspective. "So what do you see that I don't?" she asked.
He didn't answer at first as his neck shifted from left to right.
The man is begging for a metaphor. Now he reminds me of an owl who looks for prey, neck shifting without moving his body.
"If you'll excuse me," Cookie muttered, ignoring Olivia's question. Striding across the room, he lifted an empty plate from the bakery table. With the other hand he gestured to a student helper to take the plate away. He spoke into the server's ear. The student turned beet red and fled toward the kitchen.
"No plate goes unfilled on his watch," Olivia mumbled under her breath.
Each sip of tea calmed her stomach. She kept observing the diners until she heard a familiar voice from across the room.
"Just stop it, I don't want to talk about your pathetic ideas anymore," exclaimed Abbey Court. Legend hovered over her, dressed in a long flowered skirt, with a peasant top exposing a bit of hair on her chest. Her dangly hoop earrings bounced against her unshaven cheeks.
"There's never a good time to talk about an idea that isn't yours," Legend rebutted, flouncing away before Abbey could reply.
Olivia took her last sip of tea; despite the tea bag she felt the residue of leaves on her tongue. She placed the empty mug on the table marked for dirty dishes, then made her way across the room toward Raleigh, who stood with a plate held high over their head so as not to get jostled in the crowd.
They’re looking for somewhere to sit.
Olivia waved, pointing to an empty chair next to her corner of the room.
Raleigh smiled, maneuvering through the crowd toward the chair. Once they settled, Olivia came closer for a conversation.
"Hey, Raleigh. This place is a madhouse."
They smiled, carefully cutting the cinnamon roll into equal-sized pieces, beginning in the center and working methodically to the outside. With each piece arranged in a circle, they plunged a fork into one delicious bite, then the next.
Olivia watched Raleigh eat. When finished with the roll, they moved on to the bacon, finished that, then started on a bagel. Using the knife, Raleigh carefully spread a thin layer of butter over both halves. They reached for the cream cheese and spread a layer over the butter, precisely covering every open space.
They are quite particular in every action they take. Not that I think they would, but if Raleigh wanted to kill someone, they would meticulously plan and then execute without flinching. Just ask that bagel.
Olivia pointed. "I'm fascinated by your style. The more butter and cream cheese the better, for me. I tend to be a mounder, not a spreader."
"I never heard that word before…mounder." They took a bite of the bagel.
"That's because I just made it up."
Olivia leaned toward Raleigh to ask, "Could you round up the rest of the Tone Rangers for a meeting, let's say right before dinner? I'd like to talk about last-minute details before tomorrow’s parent recital."
They nodded, taking another bite of bagel. "I'll get them together, what time?"
"Let's say 4:00," said Olivia.
That will give me time to find Janis.
Olivia patted Raleigh on the shoulder, making her way across the room toward the main entrance. She walked around the students and parents lined up outside, waiting for their chance to enter the dining room.
Dave Franco dies a day ago and still, life goes on. Look who's in line…
"Hey, Anais," she called out.
Anais had been staring at her boots, half listening to a woman who stood next to her dressed in shorts and a Lily Rock Music Academy T-shirt. The shirt looked new, the words Parent Weekend at the Lily Rock Music Academy silk-screened on the front with a logo of Lily Rock over the left breast.
The woman turned to speak to Anais, who was still staring at her boots.
Olivia avoided speaking to the woman and instead glanced at a balding man standing on the other side of Anais, who looked upward toward the trees, his hands in his cargo shorts pockets.
"Hey, Anais," Olivia called again, walking closer this time.
The woman must have heard Olivia call out. "Someone is talking to you," she told Anais, pulling on her sleeve. "Maybe one of your teachers?"
Anais looked over. She stared at Olivia and tentatively smiled, walking away from the line toward her. "Hi," she said quietly.
"How are you this morning?" asked Olivia.
"Kind of bummed about Dave jumping off the cliff."
"I was there for the rescue." Olivia observed Anais carefully.
Does she assume that he jumped or is that what's being said around campus?
She cleared her throat. "The police have not determined what happened to cause his fall," Olivia said, realizing the moment she opened her mouth that she sounded too close to the facts and the police department.
You're undercover, you idiot. Stop sounding like you know stuff.
"I think that’s how it works; I watch a lot of police procedurals on Netflix," she added, hoping to cover her tracks.
Anais nodded. "See those people?" Anais pointed to the woman and man who held her place in line.
"Are those your parents?"
"Those are my grands," said Anais.
"Grands, like the big biscuits?"
Anais giggled. "No, grands like I used to be a little, and so I started calling them the grands."
"I thought the grandparents called the grandchild a 'grand'," Olivia said.
"Not in my case," Anais smiled. "I named them first. They are the grands."
"Want to introduce me?" offered Olivia.
"Yeah, come on."
Both of the grands smiled eagerly as Olivia and Anais approached. "I'm Carl Butler, Anais's grandfather," the man said. "This is my wife, Jean." The woman reached for Olivia's hand and gave it a vigorous shake.
"We're delighted to meet you. You’re the Tone Rangers's coach, right? We are so looking forward to hearing them sing tomorrow."
"Have I met you before?" asked Olivia.
"Oh no, not in person. Anais's college counselor told us who you were when we arrived yesterday. He has your photo on his desk, from a newspaper clipping about your band."
Olivia felt her neck tingle.
That's very odd. I don't even know Cox.
Carl Butler changed the subject. "The campus looks like it's improved this past year, at least the cafeteria part. Maybe my son's money is being put to good use."
"Now stop, honey. This isn't the time to talk business," chided Jean Butler. "It's time to fuss over Anais. Don't you think she's spectacular?" asked the woman, giving no room for anything other than agreement.
"Oh, I do," said Olivia with conviction. "She's an excellent alto with musical sensitivity."
"Of course she's good at music," agreed Carl. "It's the college admission test she needs help with. Now that the tutor—what's his name?—has turned up dead, we'll need to find someone else."
Jean tapped her husband's elbow. "Don't worry. Abbey's dad will have someone for Anais by this weekend. He hasn't let us down yet."
Olivia must have looked confused because Carl quickly added, "Rydell Cox has been our college admissions counselor for years. We pay him out of the trust fund and he gets things done. Rydell introduced us to Simon Court, and that's how Anais got to the Lily Rock Music Academy."
Obviously from LA with all that talk about money.
"And that's how the Lily Rock Music Academy got a new cafeteria and dining room?" added Olivia, keeping her voice light.
The couple didn't flinch. Jean spoke up first. "That's one of the ways the school benefitted. We also donated an equal amount to an orphanage in Tijuana. Simon handled everything. Such a good thing to do, invest in the lives of underprivileged children."
And a good tax deduction.
Olivia turned toward Anais. "Did Raleigh text you? We're rehearsing this afternoon at four o’clock?"
"I'll be there," she said quietly, staring at her feet.
Pulling on the girl's hand, Olivia separated Anais from her grandparents to speak privately. "Why don't you come to the rehearsal a little early, say around 3:30? We can talk more about Dave—and the music, of course."
Anais glanced back at her grandparents. "Okay, I'll be there." Then she whispered in Olivia's ear, "It would be good to get some space from the grands. They're a bit…oppressive."
Olivia chuckled and murmured back. "It must be challenging to be everyone's center of attention."
Anais sighed. "See you soon."
That's two Tone Rangers. If Raleigh texts Abbey and Legend about the rehearsal this afternoon, then we'll have a rehearsal and an interview all rolled into one.
In the administrative office, Olivia rubbed her nose, aware of a musty smell emanating from the curtains. Since the last time, artwork had been hung on the walls with pushpins.
Probably trying to impress the parents.
A desk had been shoved into a corner, with a computer and printer stacked on top. No one sat in the available chairs.
Three inner doors were closed to the center room. They looked identical except for a plaque indicating the occupant. "Sage McCloud, Academy Director" was on the one to the far right, and "Rydell Cox, Academy Guidance Counselor" was on the middle door.
And behind door number three?
Olivia reached out and knocked.
"Come in," came Janis Jets's voice. As soon as she stepped inside, Jets looked up from her computer. She motioned for Olivia to sit down across from her desk.
"I'm almost done with my notes. Keep yourself busy for a minute," Jets told her.
As she sat down her phone buzzed. Michael's name showed up on her screen.
She tapped the green button to answer and asked, "How are you?"
"Fine, tried your place for coffee and then realized you're staying at the academy."
"Cookie made me coffee and breakfast this morning," she said playfully.
"That better be all he did for you," mumbled Michael.
When I tell him about Court's threat, he'll be furious.
"About our dinner tonight…" he started.
Olivia had been dreading this moment since she'd agreed to meet with Janis instead of going out with Michael. She blurted out her news. "I can't make it this time. I am so sorry. Janis wants to see me to talk about the case."
She exhaled slowly, waiting for Michael's reply. She watched Jets, still focused on her computer, seemingly oblivious to the conversation. "I bet I'll be getting double pay too, since it's working on the weekend," she added, making an attempt to sound more professional.
Jets turned in her chair, giving Olivia a double thumbs-down.
"Or maybe not," said Olivia. "But seriously, I want our dinner to be special. We've waited so long to go on a real date. Let's try for next week?"
"One more delay," muttered Michael. "I told you I wouldn't wait forever."
Fearful she'd gone too far, her brain began to search frantically for a way to salvage the situation.
Michael glowered, "I'm not going to keep doing this. You're either in or you’re out. I'm done scrambling.”
Olivia's face froze. I don't want him to give up on us.
"I am a victim of my own lack of time management, that's all. I want to have our dinner, but how about this? Do you want to come to the academy for dinner? I'm sure Janis would appreciate your perspective."
"Do you think so?" Michael's voice shifted.
Olivia looked at Janis. She shook her head vigorously, giving another thumbs-down.
Olivia made a sad face.
Janis relented. "Go ahead and invite him," she said, turning back to the work on her computer.
"I just got confirmation. Dinner for three in this office, right after my coaching session with the Tone Rangers."
"I'll bring the food," Michael added, his voice sounding lighter.
By the time they disconnected, Janis Jets had shut down her computer. She focused her blue eyes on Olivia. "I saw you go on that helicopter ride right after breakfast. Bet you weren't so happy with your decision to eat all that bacon for breakfast."
Olivia felt a rumble in her stomach at the mention of bacon. "Please don't name any food related to pork again," she begged.
Janis chuckled. Before she could say more, the door behind Olivia opened, revealing a man dressed in a three-piece suit. He stepped inside without invitation, closing the door behind him.
"Hello, Rydell," Janis said, her voice dropping.
Instead of greeting Janis, he turned to Olivia. "Would you leave us for a minute? I have important business to discuss with the police officer."
Olivia felt the hair on her neck raise.
Now here's a man who wears his superiority like another skin-tight suit.
She didn't object but rose from her seat to step out of the open door.
No one here to observe me eavesdropping.
She closed the door behind her and stepped closer to it, leaning almost against it.
"Hey, baby, want to get a bite to eat later?" came Rydell's voice. He'd turned from demanding official to smooth-talking Don Juan in the time it took for the door to close.
Before Janis could answer, Cox added, "You can wear those sexy leather pants for me, just like last time. Let's have dinner later."
"I can't have dinner, but I could not wear any pants on our next date," Janis responded dryly. "I could go all Winnie the Pooh just for you."
Janis and Rydell laughed, making Olivia's skin crawl. She leaned even closer to the door.
So she's dating that guy? I can't believe Janis would stoop so low.
The doorknob began to turn, giving Olivia barely enough time to scoot across the room before it fully opened. She pretended to scrutinize the bulletin board as Cox walked past without a greeting. Avoiding his own office, he headed toward the exit.
Olivia waited for Cox to close the central room’s door before she stuck her head back through Janis's doorway. "Is your private moment over?"
For a second Janis didn't seem to register the meaning of her question, and then her face flamed bright red. "You heard us, right?" She fumbled with a pencil on her desk. "I guess you know we're dating."
"I guess I do," admitted Olivia, keeping her voice light. "Do you want to talk about the case now?"
Janis frowned. "I sure as hell don't want to talk about my feelings. Sit down and tell me what you've got."
Olivia did as told, searching her mind for what she'd learned that morning. "I have a rehearsal with the Tone Rangers," she glanced at her cell phone, "in twenty minutes."
"About time you go on your assignment."
"I've got a feeling about one of the kids—Anais."
"Don't tell me you sang her a tune and she started blabbing all her secrets to you like the last time."
"I didn't sing to her." Olivia felt the sting of Janis's words. "But she's acting oddly and she's really upset by Dave's death."
"He was her tutor." Jets nodded. "Kids get attracted to tutors. Was there something going on with the two of them?"
Olivia's stomach clenched. "I hope not. She's just seventeen and he was at least in his late twenties. Plus as you know, he had a wife with a baby on the way."
"So what's your take on Dave Franco? Was he a good guy, is that what you're saying?"
Olivia took a moment to remember the percussionist. His serious attitude, wanting to help the students. Plus he played music with nuance. "He didn't overpower his bandmates," she said as if that would explain. "That's saying a lot for a guy who could make the loudest sound in a folk group."
"Oh sure, like I know what that means," said Janis.
"It means he wasn't a showboat. He played underneath other musicians to back them up and only took a solo when it seemed right for the music, not just for his ego."
Jets stared at Olivia. Her eyes widened as if taking in the information.
"That's probably the most insightful thing I've heard about the guy since I started this investigation."
Olivia leaned over the desk toward Janis, sensing their old connection. But before she could smile, Janis shut down the moment.
"Time for you to interview the suspects. Time for me to check on the guy next door."
"He left the building," commented Olivia dryly.
"Is that so?"
Janis doesn't look disappointed, just curious. Maybe she's wondering where she left the leather pants…