Requiem Murder Part 4

"Success." He grinned. "The apartment will be ready by the end of May."

"I'll help you move in. Would you like to start your duties at St. Stephen's in June?"

He frowned. "Why? I'm not scheduled to begin until August."

"I'm ready to resume my place in the congregation."

"Maybe."

"I'll a.s.sist you if you'd like."

He c.o.c.ked his head. "Thanks, but let me think about it. Would you mind giving me a rundown on the

programs? I called Reverend Potter. He was effusive but vague."

His comment made me laugh. "You'll find that's his usual way. You've met some of the choir members

when we came to hear you and when you were here to play." I stacked my lunch dishes on the tray.

"Once you've moved in, I'll have a small dinner party for you."

He picked up the tray. "You don't have to do that."

"I seldom do anything I don't want to do. A privilege of age."

"You're younger in spirit than many people half your age."

His flattery brought heat to my cheeks. For a moment, I wished I could lose forty years. "You could be

right."

He put the tray on the kitchen table and watched while I blended a variety of mint leaves in my tea ball.

This afternoon, peppermint was my main choice.

"A question. Where do you buy your mints?"

"I don't, other than catnip. I used to grow that but my garden became cat heaven. Every summer, I pick

and dry the leaves." I turned on the burner beneath the kettle.

He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs. "If I help, would you give me some?"

"I'd planned an a.s.sortment as a welcome gift."

For the next hour, we drank tea and I described the various choirs and the level of music the parishioners

expected to hear. Then I mentioned the Evensongs.

"There are nine from September through May. The choir performs two and you'll select the guest artists

for the others."

He refilled his mug, inhaled and sipped. "Any regular performers?"

"None. Would you consider giving a concert?"

He leaned forward. "How would that sit with the Vestry?"

"They'd love it. Though there's a music trust fund for expenses, they're a bit tight. Edward can help you

with them. He's also talking to them about paying you for June and July."

"But I haven't said yes. I've a lot to consider. Is there a committee to select music?"

"You're it. You'll have to follow the liturgical calendar." I grinned. "The other thing is to select one of Edward's favorite hymns frequently. He'll give you a list."

He laughed. "That's called expediency. Will I be able to give private lessons?"

"As long as they don't interfere with your duties."

He rose. "I've rented a two bedroom apartment. Mrs. Stanton is arranging for one of the bedrooms to be sound- proofed so I can give voice and piano lessons at home. I'll call you when I have a moving date."

I rose and followed him to the door. "You have no idea how glad I'll be to see you settled."

He paused. "You don't have to see me out."

"The garden's waiting."

As we crossed the lawn, Robespierre ambled toward us. "Here comes my familiar and that walk means

he wants to see me in the kitchen."

Roger stiffened and walked to the car. "Thanks for your help. I'll call you soon."

His tension puzzled me. Why was he in such a hurry to leave? When the cat angled toward Roger, he slid

into the driver's seat and slammed the door. As he drove away, Robespierre batted my leg.

"I'm coming."*

The next afternoon, Beth dropped by while I sat on the porch with my neighbor, Sarah. Sarah's children, three of her own and two foster children, played in the yard. The two older ones, Larry and Jamal, supervised the younger ones by shouting commands.

"Beth, where's Robby?"

"Pete took him to Little League practice." She sank on the top step. "I think he's too young for that kind of compet.i.tion. Pete laughs at me." "Do you mean Pete Duggan?" Sarah leaned forward. "I didn't think he was interested in anyone under twenty-five and who wasn't female."

Beth closed her eyes, "He's adopted my son."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "And the mother?"

"He tolerates me."

"You can change that," Sarah said. "Saw the new organist this morning. What a hunk. Just invite him over

when Pete's around. He sure thrives on compet.i.tion."

Beth smiled. "That's an idea."

I looked away. Though I think Pete and Beth are a great match, I wouldn't interfere. Match-making can be hazardous to your well-being. If the couples like each other -- great. If they don't, you lose two friends.*When Roger called to give me his moving date, I frowned. He'd picked a Friday. If he'd waited until Sat.u.r.day, I could have rounded up a crew to help.

On Thursday after choir rehearsal, I a.s.sembled a tray of cold cuts, salads, cake and rolls. The next morning I loaded the food, a thermos of iced mint tea and an a.s.sortment of dried mint in my car.

Ten minutes later I parked in front of the Gulliver apartments. Roger stood on the sidewalk and watched a crew of sullen men unload his furniture. Twenty minutes after my arrival the movers tackled the piano. My heart thudded against my ribs until the instrument was off the truck and being wheeled into the elevator. One look at Roger's face told me he had experienced the same palpitations. We rode the elevator with the upright that had been painted ivory.

While he directed the movers, I unpacked the boxes marked for the kitchen and put dishes, pots and pans and other a.s.sorted things on shelves. Roger appeared in the doorway. "You don't have to do this."

"I want to. I know how hard moving is. After my house was converted, I had a crew of family and friends to help with the move upstairs."

"You were lucky."

"If you'd waited until tomorrow, half the choir would have helped."

"But they don't know me."

"They will...Oh, your welcome dinner is scheduled for next Friday."

By one o'clock the movers had left. I arranged spices on the shelves and was amazed by the variety. He must like to cook. As I worked, I realized how little I knew about him. He had a knack of steering conversations from himself. There'd been time the day he'd found his apartment, but he'd plied me with question after question.

When I put the last jar on the shelf, I took the tray from the refrigerator and placed it on the alcove between the kitchen and the living room. "Lunch break."

"There's enough food to last the entire weekend," he said.

"That's the idea. Gives you time to shop at leisure. There are only delis within walking distance and their prices are outrageous."

He sat at the table and filled two gla.s.ses from the thermos. "Since you've organized the kitchen, all that's left is the music room."

"Good." I made a sandwich and put some salad on a paper plate.

"Let me have the name of your piano tuner so I can call him this afternoon. Tracey had a phone installed."

I raised an eyebrow. Duty above and beyond a real estate agent. Then I recalled how he'd charmed

three very different women during the interview lunch. By Halloween he'd have half the women in the congregation fawning.

After lunch he made his call. Then he reached for my hand. "Let's take a walk."

"Anywhere in particular?"