On Sunday the Curated Cuisine hummed with activity. More parents had arrived early that morning, taking time to catch up with their children over a cup of coffee and a finely baked tidbit from the sweet table. The chocolate croissants were a particular favorite.
Olivia slid in the back door, her hair still wet from a shower. "Hey, Cookie, any of your dark roast ready to go?"
Apron freshly laundered and tied around his barrel chest, Cookie looked the epitome of calm and in control. He smiled at Olivia. "Come to the back room, you can have a cup of my special blend." Olivia followed him. A smaller coffeepot sat on a table with two mugs waiting.
"This feels like a deluxe walk-in pantry," Olivia observed, looking around the room. "I'm going to call it the curated pantry. You take organization to a whole new level."
Cookie poured a mug of coffee and handed it to Olivia. "Watch out you don't spill." He poured another mug for himself. "I worked closely with the supply officers on board ships. They taught me a few tricks. One thing I learned was to have coffee for everybody, then a big brew of better-than-average blend for friends, and in the back have a small pot of the best coffee, the expensive kind, like Kona. This morning I share my best blend with you, a true aficionado of the roasted bean." He smiled at Olivia.
She turned around to look more closely at the shelves, lined with baking tools.
"Strictly for my baking," Cookie explained, nodding proudly at the array of cake accessories, cookie sheets, and Bundt pans. "No one else is allowed to touch them so that I can keep everything in its place."
Olivia inhaled the aroma of the dark blend. "So good," she said after her first sip. "I didn't really appreciate coffee until the last couple of years."
"Part of your sobriety?" he asked.
Did I just see a look of approval on his face?
Basking in his appraisal and companionship, Olivia looked toward the opposite wall from the baking shelves.
Old lockers…maybe my duplicate key fits in one of those.
Refurbished with fresh paint, each locker had been stripped and sprayed with a pastel color. She nodded to the bank of lockers, saying, "They remind me of Easter eggs."
"Most like the colors of The Great British Baking Show," Cookie suggested.
"Are you a fan?" Olivia asked. "I've never seen the show."
"That's right," Cookie grinned. "I love that Paul Hollywood. I only wish I had mixers to match the lockers."
"Were they always here?" Olivia asked.
"I had the lockers installed when I got here. I saw them lined up in front of a dumpster, asking to be repurposed. I guess parents objected to such old-fashioned decor for their newly minted offspring."
Olivia burst with laughter, coffee snorting out of her nose. "Those are special teens you're talking about."
Newly minted offspring…very funny.
She looked for a cloth to dab at her jeans. "Over by the sink," Cookie advised.
"The flexibility of denim never surprises," mumbled Olivia, staring down at the wet spots on her pants. "Do you like working with teens?" she asked Cookie as he topped off her mug of coffee.
"I like working with teens most of the time. On the one hand, these kids are just a couple of years younger than the enlisted sailors I fed on ships. On the other hand, I worked the White House for a few years, and if you think the parents are snooty here, just try being polite to a senator who sends back her pea soup because she doesn't think it looks green enough."
On the one hand…on the other hand. Reminds me of Janis—the old Janis, that is.
"Do you know Officer Jets by any chance? She's always talking about one hand or the other."
A blank look came over Cookie's face. He scratched the back of his neck. "I've talked to her a little, just a few days ago, and then I ran into her on campus, just passing by."
"I've been working as her temporary assistant at the constabulary office. Now I'm filling in at the dorm as a temporary assistant."
His eyes narrowed. "I've heard that you assist all over the place, don't you?"
I'm gonna let that go.
Olivia pointed to the lockers again. "So that key you accidentally lost that I returned? Does it open one of those?"
"It does. I use the lockers and so do the students. They put phones and in some cases music instruments inside for safe keeping while they help me with serving and cleaning up. We got the locks to keep people from accidentally borrowing a phone or a trombone." Kravitz smirked at Olivia.
"I remember having lockers like that in high school. They had those combination locks. People would look over your shoulder to get your numbers when you weren't paying attention."
"That's why we have the lockers keyed," said Cookie. "I run a tight ship here. No hanky-panky on my watch."
Olivia took her empty mug to the sink. "I'd better get going. Thanks for inviting me to the special coffee club. A long day ahead of us with all of these parents milling around."
"Take a paper cup for the road," he offered. "Will you be performing with the staff at the recital? I've heard you are really good. 'The voice of an angel', someone said to me."
Her cheeks grew hot. Olivia ducked her head. "I take no credit for my voice. Got it from my mom." She took the cup with the lid from Cookie's hand. "Most people don't like the old-time tunes, but I'll be singing one tonight. I’ll be the last faculty member before the Tone Rangers, my student group."
She left Cookie, making her way out of the pantry.
So twice Cookie admitted he'd heard about me from someone else. The Lily Rock grapevine grows with wild abandon, especially at the music academy.
Holding her to-go cup aloft, she exited from the back door, making her way on the footpath to the auditorium.
Olivia walked through the double doors, lingering as her eyes adjusted to the light. She inhaled deeply, smelling the combination of wood and wax used over the past fifty years, since the auditorium was first built.
She walked down the center aisle, admiring the old wooden seats with the red upholstery, worn thin with use.
I wonder if people will miss this old place when they start using the new performing stage. Maybe it's time to let the old ways die. Thank you, Bradley Cooper.
Stepping up on the stage, Olivia turned around to look at the empty seats.
By tonight, every one will be filled with students and parents waiting to be entertained. The Tone Rangers will debut a new set, judged by parents before they begin their auditions in another month.
If they sound and look good, then there's a chance the academy board will ignore the other complaints about Sage. If not…
She found the stacked chairs. One by one she unfolded four in a semicircle before placing her chair in front of the others. She sat down to wait for the arrival of the Tone Rangers.
The last rehearsal before a performance is so crucial, it could make or break their confidence.
Olivia took a moment to close her eyes and center herself. Like flies flitting over a tidbit of food, her thoughts raced in her head.
Not now, not now, not now, she told each annoying idea. Finally she connected with her place of silence underneath the wordy confusion.
Still no sign of the Tone Rangers.
Olivia listened to the room, imagining all the voices and music that had filled the space for the past forty years. The hair on her arms prickled, but she ignored the feeling, drifting more deeply into her meditation.
Hands grasped around her neck, Olivia gasped, shock leaving her mind blank. A voice spoke harshly in her ear.
"I know what you're up to. Stay away from the music academy or you'll be sorry."
She yanked at the vice-like grip around her neck, desperate for breath. Pulling away one finger, she tried to loosen the grip.
Air leaving her lungs, she made a last effort to push her legs underneath her, but her attacker shoved her back into the chair.
"Help," she gasped, feeling her windpipe constrict. The fingers tightened again, just enough to stop her breath before they released a bit.
As soon as the grip loosened, she gasped for air through her mouth. With a quick twist, she turned her body slightly in the chair. Her heart pounding in her chest, she tried another breath, but the hands tightened again, even more this time. Her hands dropped to her lap, her head dizzy. And then, the hands were gone. She gasped for breath as she leaned over, holding her head in her lap.
I have to find out who that was.
She rose to her feet to look around for the assailant.
Only a side stage curtain rustled as if someone had hurried past to use the side exit.
"Stop," she yelled hoarsely.
Then someone said her name.
"I’m here, Olivia." Legend stood at the foot of the stage steps. Her hair, pulled back in a ponytail, revealed a huge smile and recently applied makeup. Even her eyes shone, black liner emphasizing their round shape.
"Legend, did you see anyone in the parking lot by the side exit?" Olivia asked, her voice straining and weak.
"Didn't see anybody. The rest should be here soon. We talked at the cafeteria." Legend went to sit in her usual chair, paying no attention to Olivia.
Before Olivia could explain what had just happened, the other three Tone Rangers came through the back.
"What's the matter with your neck?" Raleigh asked.
Olivia's hand raised to cover her throat. She decided quickly, I'm not going to tell them. They need to rehearse. I'll deal with my problems later.
"No time for chitchat," Abbey interrupted. "We'd better run through our set before the next group gets here and pushes us out."
The three singers sat down right away. Abbey tucked her sneakers under the chair, her bottom lip pouting.
Olivia glanced at Abbey, waiting for someone to explain.
"She's upset because the group voted her out. I'm the new lead of the Tone Rangers," Legend said.
"It's not fair," cried Abbey. "You waited until my back was turned and then conspired against me without giving me any warning."
"We warned you," Raleigh spoke up. "We told you over and over that we wanted to go with Legend's idea and get some fresh arrangements for new songs. You just didn't listen." They folded their arms across their chest.
Olivia looked at each face.
I wonder if the admission pressure and looming auditions have finally taken their toll.
"Let's talk about how to handle the new group dynamic later. Right now it's the recital details that need to be finalized. Before we warm up, I want to ask your opinion about another matter entirely."
She waited a second before continuing. "I would like to take up a collection for Dave’s family, Linnea and the new baby. We could work an explanation into the introduction of our last song. Then you four could collect money from people in the back, on their way to the reception."
"I like the idea," said Raleigh immediately.
"Oh, me too," agreed Anais.
Legend tugged at her skirt to cover her knees. She didn't speak.
"Well I think it's a stupid idea and a big waste of time," said Abbey. "My dad didn't send me to the Lily Rock Music Academy to shake down parents for extra donations. We're supposed to be working and getting early admission to college."
Olivia watched the other Tone Rangers. No one else spoke up.
"You surprise me," said Olivia quietly, looking directly at Abbey. "You'd think someone of your privilege would welcome the opportunity to support a family in need."
Now the other three Tone Rangers stared at Olivia as if she'd spoken a foreign language. Finally Legend said, "Abbey is all work, work, work. That's why they voted me to be the lead of the Tone Rangers. We're all exhausted, right guys?" She turned to Raleigh and Anais, who both nodded in agreement.
"I'm exhausted and sad," added Anais in a quiet voice. "I really liked Dave and I'm so sorry he died."
Olivia turned to Abbey who, for the first time, looked human. Her bottom lip trembled. Then as quickly as she'd shown her feelings, she turned on the voice of authority.
"A new tutor has already been hired," Abbey said in a prim voice. "My father arranged for our first sessions on Monday. There will be no time to collect money. We need to get to bed early and start the next day. The new tutor will have much higher standards and expect a lot more results than Dave."
"I don't care about another tutor," Anais wailed. "I didn't know Dave was having a baby." Tears filled her eyes. "He never mentioned that to me."
"Or me either," said Raleigh. "We hiked together, me and Legend and Dave. He never said a word."
"I didn't know," Legend chimed in. "That's going to be tough. I'll talk to my parents. They're not here for the weekend, but they’ll write a check, I know they will."
"The grands would be happy to donate," added Anais.
Olivia nodded at the group. "Okay, then let's get singing. I assume we'll do the set we've been practicing, and then after the recital, we can work on some new arrangements with your new song leader." She smiled at Legend, who stared at her hiking boots, lost in thought. "You've got your Indigo Girl song, and then we have the finale of the concert."
"The song you taught us…from the '70s, right?" said Anais with a smile. "I like that one."
"I'll sing the first section of that one," said Olivia, "and then you come in for the last part like we practiced."
"What about your autoharp?" asked Legend. "If you use it for accompaniment, it won't be a cappella."
Olivia nodded. "I can sing without accompaniment since I'm part of your group."
"You'd do that for us?" Raleigh looked surprised. "You're kind of known for the autoharp thing."
"I can be part of the Tone Rangers and change my style. I'm here to support you."
Abbey glared at Olivia. "That's what you say now. There must be something in it for you."
She's so cynical for such a young person.
The Tone Rangers began their first song, and Olivia waited until the end to critique.
"You need to come in a bit sooner on the chorus," Olivia cautioned Abbey. "Other than that, you all sound spectacular, and you're going to be amazing! I'm proud to be a part of your finale. Thanks for including me." In her most enthusiastic voice, Olivia added, "I can't think of anything to say other than, have fun!"
Ending on that piece of encouragement, Olivia folded her chair, stacking it behind the piano. The students followed her example. By the time Olivia shuffled music into her bag, only Legend remained.
"Could I talk to you for a minute?" she asked Olivia. "I didn't tell you earlier, but I'm worried and I need to talk to someone."
"What is it, Legend?"
"Remember I said that Raleigh and I saw Dave talking to Cookie that day he died? How we didn't stop to talk and ran into the woods."
Olivia nodded. "I remember. You took a selfie by the oak tree and it said 3:54."
"That's right, but I didn't tell you everything. When we got to the end of the trail, I said goodbye to Raleigh and I circled back to catch Dave. I wanted to talk to him."
"Did you have anything special you wanted to talk about?"
"I wanted to end our tutoring sessions. I wanted to tell him that I didn't need anyone to take my tests for me."
Olivia felt confused. "Maybe you had it wrong, Legend. Dave wasn't supposed to take the test. His job was to prepare you to take the test."
Legend shook her head vehemently. "You don't understand. My dad arranged for Mr. Court to get me a tutor. I liked Dave, but I didn't know he was supposed to take my test for me. I thought he was preparing me to do better on the exam. So when he said I'd have to get on a plane and meet him in Tucson for the test, I got suspicious.
"I called my dad and we had it out. It turns out that he paid Dave to take the test for me!" Tears of indignation welled in Legend's eyes, her mascara running down her cheeks in black streaks.
"But I never got to talk to Dave that day. When I arrived, Cookie had left and Dave was talking to Anais. He had his arm around her shoulders because she was crying. I didn't want to get in the middle of all that, so I turned and ran back toward the woods. I decided to talk to him later."
"How much later was it when you saw Dave and Anais?"
"Only a few minutes after the first time, fifteen at most…around 4:15 or so. In fact I know it was then because I looked at my cell phone and there was a call from my dad. He probably wanted to keep yelling at me to change my mind about the test. My phone said 4:15."
So Anais also saw Dave right before his death.
"You did the right thing telling me. I have connections with the constabulary and I'll make sure Officer Jets knows. But for now I'd like you to get some rest before your performance."
And then if you want to change your story and admit you pushed Dave, you can…assuming you did it…which I'm not sure about.
Legend ducked her head. "I'm just tired, you know? Dave died, now I'm the head of the Tone Rangers, and I'm supposed to get good grades with all this going on. I haven't had time to volunteer anywhere, which I'd better get to before I apply for early admissions in six weeks. It's a lot."
Olivia reached up and patted her shoulder.
"Things are going to get better, and I think being the lead Tone Ranger will look very good on your college application. But for now, go back to the dorm and see if you can rest. Drink lots of water too."
"You sound like my mom."
"I'm sure she'd say the same." Olivia nodded, removing her hand from Legend's shoulder.
Once Legend left, Olivia made her way toward the exit. Her neck still stung where the hands had gripped her skin. Olivia ran her fingers over the sore area.
The singing made me forget about the attacker.
She shoved the curtain back, where she assumed the intruder had escaped.
I'm going to look around a bit and see if there any clues.
Eyes on the ground, Olivia walked slowly toward the curtain, pulling it aside again to check the floor for any evidence the assailant may have left behind.
Except for some dust, I can't see anything unusual.
Stepping from the darkened back door exit out of the auditorium, the sun blinded her view. She pulled sunglasses out of her pocket and then looked around. The dirt path leading to the student parking area looked clear. Then she sighted a red BMW parked at the farthest point in the student lot.
Why would Rydell Cox be parking here?
By the time she reached the BMW she grew worried.
I won't touch his car because he has that sensitive alarm. But if I'm careful, I can look inside.
The windows, tinted dark gray, made it difficult to see inside, unless she held her hands to the sides of her face to block out the glare.
First the back seat. There's his briefcase. Oh, and there's one of those lanyard key rings. Maybe he has his own locker in the curated pantry…
"Can I help you?" a voice inquired. Rydell Cox stood behind Olivia, his hands on his hips. "Why were you staring into my car?"
Olivia felt a wave of nausea rise from her throat. Lie, Olivia. Lie as if your life depends on it!
"I was wondering what a BMW looks like inside. I'm in the market for a new car and yours was so convenient."
Look at his eyes narrow. He's not buying my whopper for a minute.
"Come on, you can't afford a Beemer. Nice try. Leave me and my car alone." Rydell Cox turned on his heel.
Olivia walked away from the car toward the dormitory, quickening her pace to distance herself from Rydell Cox.
I swear that key ring in the back of his car is the same or identical to the one Cookie dropped. I need to get a look in those lockers.