Free Dead Ringer by Sarah Fox Page A

you.”
    â€œIt’s all right,” I assured her. Although the woman watched me expectantly, I didn’t know what it was she wanted. I glanced at my cell phone. Time was getting on. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
    â€œYes, of course. Don’t let me keep you. I just wanted to express my condolences.”
    I forced a smile. “Thank you.”
    Leaving Estelle in the lobby, I made my way down to the basement, relieved to be away from the older woman. My exchange with her had left me confused, but at least I had more information to work with now. Could Jeremy’s troubles with his girlfriend have somehow led to his murder? Maybe she wanted to be with another man and Jeremy didn’t want to let her go. If that were the case, could the other man have killed Jeremy to get him out of the way?
    That was pure speculation, of course, but it was something to look into, particularly because it was a scenario that didn’t involve Hans. Hurrying into the backstage room, now crowded with other musicians, I retrieved my violin and bow from my instrument case. I recognized Mikayla’s red bag sitting next to mine and guessed that she was already out on stage. Grabbing my music folder, I went to join her.
    Even though my mind was spinning with thoughts about Reverend McAllister, Jeremy, and Jeremy’s girlfriend, I hadn’t forgotten the original questions I wanted answered. With any luck, I’d have those answers within a matter of minutes and could put any niggling doubts about Hans to rest.

 
    Chapter 7
    I TOOK MY seat on the stage next to Mikayla as she set out the sheet music for Brahms’s Double Concerto. After greeting her, I looked around, hoping to spot Hans. I caught sight of Leanne, our assistant conductor, and experienced a wave of panic.
    What if the police had never let Hans go? What if they’d arrested him?
    But then Hans appeared, making his way to the front of the orchestra, and relief rushed through me, erasing my fears. I closed my eyes as my heart rate returned to normal.
    An elbow jabbed me in the ribs and my eyes flew open.
    â€œWhat’s up with you?” Mikayla watched me with curious eyes.
    â€œI . . .” My breath caught in my throat as Hans’s gaze roamed over the orchestra, locking with mine for a split second. When he turned his attention elsewhere, I swallowed and tried again to answer Mikayla’s question. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
    I don’t think she believed me, but she let the matter drop, and for that I was grateful. I tuned my violin and then leaned toward her, lowering my voice so she would be the only one to hear me over the noise of the other players practicing and tuning their instruments. “Last rehearsal, when you came to tell Maestro about Jeremy, did you find him here on stage?”
    â€œYes. Why?”
    I ignored her question and asked another of my own. “What about before you came to find me? Did you see him then?”
    Mikayla narrowed her eyes at me. “Why are you asking me this?”
    â€œPlease, it’s important.” I didn’t want to explain, especially not with so many other ­people around, even if our conversation was practically drowned out by the noise around us.
    Mikayla’s eyes remained narrowed, but she considered my question. “I saw him right before I went to find you. He came back on stage and I knew the rehearsal would start up again at any moment, and it wasn’t like you to be late coming back, so I decided to see if I could track you down.”
    I thought that over. “So he did leave the stage during the break.” That wasn’t good. Unless somebody saw him backstage or wherever else he went.
    Mikayla poked me in the arm with her bow. “Your turn. Tell me what this is about. You don’t think Maestro had something to do with Jeremy’s death, do you?”
    I looked around, hoping no one had overheard her say