Requiem Murder Part 19

"No one can steal another person's dream."

She whirled and stalked away. "A lot you know, but you never understood. He hurt me and you won't believe me. He'll hurt her too."

"Who? Martin?"

"Why would Martin hurt me? Don't act dumb. You know who I mean. I fixed him once." Her eyes held a wild excitement. "I'll fix him again. You'll see. Then maybe you'll believe me."

I shifted the books and reached for the doork.n.o.b.

"Judith, I have to go. I promise I'll talk to Marcie."

She turned and, as though she had just realized I was there, stared. "You. Are you spying on me again? I saw you hiding in the bushes at the church. You're always prying into what isn't your business." A frisson of fear slid along my spine and radiated along the nerves. How foolish. What could happen in a public place?

"I wasn't spying. I had a meeting with Edward and he wanted to tell me about the new memorial wall. We had just stepped outside when I saw Marcie. She looked upset and I wanted to see if she needed help."

"She should be upset. She's trying to take him from me but he doesn't want her. She's just a silly child.

She won't listen but she'll be sorry. So will you if you don't stop spying on me."

"Judith!"

She laughed again and the sound chilled me. "He hurt me. He hurt me but he won't hurt me again."

I opened the door and ran down the steps. My hands shook and I held the books against my chest.

Instead of going home, I walked to Sarah's house. Maybe the ordinary chaos there would help me forget Judith's craziness.

Sarah opened the door. "What's wrong? You look like you've found another body."

"Just had a shocking experience."

"What?"

"Make me a pot of mint tea and I'll tell you." I followed her to the kitchen where she put water on to boil.

I stared at the wall and tried to come to grips with the scene in Judith's office. Who had she meant?

Roger? Some man from her past? When the tea was ready, I sipped and sighed.

"Now tell me what's wrong," Sarah said.

When I finished the first cup, I related my encounter at the library. "She scares me."

"And for good reason. Maria and I had lunch at the Pub today. Judith was there and her lunch was a liquid one. Avoid her."

"Wish I could. Unfortunately I'm directing the choir for the Evensong Sunday and she's one of the

soloists."

"Next time before you volunteer, tell yourself Sarah will have me committed to the hospital over the mountain."

"That might be the wisest solution." *****

That night at rehearsal, Judith acted as though the scene in her office hadn't occurred. Her open friendliness did nothing to relieve my edginess in her presence.

Chapter 8.

Lacrymosa.

As the last strains of the organ faded from the air, the audience attending the Mozart Requiem began to leave the sanctuary. From the expressions on their faces, I knew we'd been a success. I kept the choir in their place until the aisles cleared. They disbanded and headed to the choir room to disrobe before gathering in Fellowship Hall for the usual reception.

I felt drained physically and exhilarated emotionally. A buzz of conversation flowed from the open door of the hall where most of the attendees gathered. My legs felt rubbery and beads of perspiration formed on my forehead. I slipped inside and collapsed on one of the chairs set against the wall as the adrenaline rush that had carried me through the performance ended.

Edward bustled over. He beamed. "Katherine, you were just...magnificent." His booming voice caused people to turn and stare. "You and Roger must work together again. I've never heard the choir sound more...magnificent. What a magnificent idea to have the choir in the nave. The music soared."

I'd identified his word of the day and vowed not to use it. One of my teachers had said if you wanted to make a word yours use it ten times. At Edward's rate of usage, he'd make all the descriptive adjectives his and leave none for the rest of us.

"I don't think I could do this again. I'm feeling my age and then some. But you're right. The performance went well."

"Not just well --" Roger entered the room and diverted Edward's attention. "I must tell him how --"

He missed two chance to use his word, but I wasn't disappointed. In fact, laughter threatened to spurt like champagne from a shaken bottle. If I became hysterical, I'd attract more attention that I deserved. While I'd been the visible partner, Roger had been the one who'd made the production a success.

"Nicely done, Kate." Lars handed me a gla.s.s of white wine. "You look wilted."

"Just catching my breath. This robe weighs as much as my cat and that was harder work than I remember."

He touched his gla.s.s to mine. "Just standing all that time is an effort at our age."

"Lars! We're not even septuagenarians yet." The wine took the dryness from my throat and added a bit of giddiness to my voice. "I'd better shuck this robe. I stopped in here because I couldn't move another step."

His hand at my elbow provided a gentle support. "Why don't we skip this party? I'll take you home and make a Lars' omelet deluxe."

"Sounds wonderful, but it's the party for me. The traditional chocolate cake is in the fridge. We won't stay late, but I want to hear the tape. After the first few notes, I heard nothing."

As we crossed the room, people stopped to tell me how much they'd enjoyed the program. Since I'd played only a minor role in the success, my response was low key.

"I'll pa.s.s your compliments to Roger and the choir. They did all the work. I was just stage dressing." Betty Peters pulled me aside. "Nicely done. Why did he give Judith a solo? She doesn't need the spotlight. Hasn't anyone warned him about her? He'll be her next victim and he's such a nice man."

I shrugged. "I only stepped in to direct. He made all the decisions." I squeezed her hand. "How's Alan?"

She beamed. "He and Nancy just gave us our first grandchild. A little boy."

"Then you have a lot to be thankful for."

She nodded, but the bitter line of her mouth remained. Some people don't forgive or forget.

Lars tugged on my arm. "Kate, we're going to be late."

After I shed the robe, I felt lighter and rejuvenated. As we walked downstairs, I heard voices and I

paused.

"Judith, we've got to go," Martin said. "People will be arriving in a half hour and we should be there to greet them." "You go ahead. I'll wait for Roger. He has my car. Check to see that Marcie followed my directions to the letter."

"You know she will."

"If she knows what's good for her."

"It wasn't fair for you to make her stay at home. She would have been as proud of her mother as I am."

"You're dreaming. She's jealous of me."

"Why do you say things like that?"

My ire rose. I stepped forward. Lars gripped my arm. "Kate, no."

"I have to do something before she ruins that child's life."

"It's not your problem." He groaned. "I forgot. The world's problems are yours."

"Not true. Just those I care for."

He laughed. "Just half the world then. Please don't

interfere. Remember the last time you spoke to someone

about their child."

"How could I forget?" That action had been one of the triggers for my tenant's murder. "I know you're right but --."

By the time we reached the hall, the Simpsons were gone. Several choir members walked out with us.

The air was chilly and I shivered as we walked to the car.

As soon as we reached the house, I put the kettle on and made some selections from my stores of mint.

Apple mint, a pinch of catnip and peppermint. I'd need a calm center to endure several hours at the Simpson's.

"One cup and I'll be fine. Two and it's party time."

Lars chuckled. "Kate's cure-all. Blend some for me to take to New Mexico. Every night, I'll drink a cup and wonder what you've managed to get yourself into."

"Life is meant to be experienced." I poured steaming water into the teapot. "When do you leave?"

"Tuesday morning. Are you up for an airport trip?"

"No problem. Why the middle of the week?"

"Bonnie's fussing about being cheated out of time with me. She was upset when I delayed my departure."

Especially because I was the cause. "And Don?"

"He thinks his sister's acting like a spoiled brat. Don't ask what he thinks about her husband."

"I won't."