Free Deadly Overtures: A Music Lover's Mystery by Sarah Fox Page B

seemed far more likely that he would have wanted Olivia out of the way. She knew Jeb and Pavlina’s secret and whether or not she herself could have made the decision to disqualify Pavlina and boot Jeb from the judging panel, she certainly could have taken the first step toward that outcome by telling what she knew to those in charge.
    Since Olivia had that power, I would have been convinced of Jeb’s guilt if she’d been the victim rather than Pavlina. As it was, a note of uncertainty jingled at the back of my head, making me wonder if the words I’d overheard held any real significance after all. If his statements were indicative of his guilt, the police needed to know what I’d overheard. But I could already imagine how completely disinterested Detective Van den Broek would be when he heard the brief tale of that moment in the lobby.
    Still, even if the detective didn’t seem to appreciate anything I’d already told him, I wouldn’t feel right holding back what I’d overheard. Maybe it meant nothing, but maybe it was the vital clue that would put the police on the track of Pavlina’s killer.
    With a heavy sigh, I decided to make a trip to the police station the next morning. Once again I wished Detective Salnikova was in charge of the murder investigation. Even if I had a tendency to exasperate her with what she probably viewed as nosiness, I knew she would at least listen to me. I wasn’t sure if I’d get the same consideration from Van den Broek. Nevertheless, I would pay the detective a visit in the morning and tell him what I’d heard.
    I TOSSED AND turned that night, jumbled thoughts bouncing around in my head, thumping out an irregular beat against my skull. Even when I did manage to sleep, a confused muddle of dreams kept me from truly restful slumber. I awoke in the morning with a groan, pulling the blankets up over my head, wishing I could turn back the clock and give the night another try. Since that, unfortunately, wasn’t an option, I soon forced myself to push back the covers and leave the warmth of my bed.
    Yawning, I stumbled my way to the bathroom and took a quick shower. By the time I’d toweled off and dressed I was as awake as I could be after the night I’d had. I made myself a quick breakfast of toast and strawberry jam and washed it down with a cup of green tea. Although I would have liked to lounge about reading a good book while enjoying another cup of tea, I remembered my decision from the night before and got bundled up in my coat, slouchy knitted hat, and gloves. Then I rode the elevator down to my building’s underground parking lot and set off in my car for the police station.
    I had to circle the block before I could find a parking spot and when I finally did get my MINI Cooper tucked up next to the curb, I remained in the driver’s seat, reluctant to get out. While I couldn’t be completely sure of the reception I’d receive from Detective Van den Broek, I figured the odds were pretty good that he wouldn’t be enthralled by what I had to tell him. Then again, maybe I didn’t have to talk to Van den Broek. Maybe I could ask to speak with Detective Chowdhury instead. Whether he’d be any more interested in the information I had to share than his partner had been with my insights the other night, I didn’t know, but speaking with Chowdhury appealed to me more than another round with Van den Broek.
    Finally leaving the warmth of my little car, I hurried along the street to the police station, the cold air stinging my cheeks. Inside the reception area, warmer air greeted me and I pulled my hat from my head. I immediately regretted the action, realizing that my hair was probably all staticky and sticking up in every direction. Feeling self-conscious, I ran my hand over my hair, trying to smooth it down as best I could as I approached the reception desk.
    I asked the middle-aged woman behind the desk if I could speak with Detective Chowdhury and she requested that I wait a