Requiem Murder [Book 2 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] Read Online Free Page B

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 competition. 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 competition."
    Beth smiled. “That's an idea."
    I looked away. Though I think Pete and Beth are a great match, I wouldn't interfere. Matchmaking 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 Saturday, I could have rounded up a crew to help.
    On Thursday after choir rehearsal, I assembled a tray of cold cuts, salads, cake and rolls. The next morning I loaded the food, a thermos of iced mint tea and an assortment 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 assorted 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