Dead Is a Killer Tune by Marlene Perez

Author:Marlene Perez [Perez, Marlene]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Ya, Mystery, Romance
Goodreads: 17152129
Publisher: Turtleback Books
Published: 2012-09-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I knew I was going to need to cram in as much practice as possible before the next round of Battle of the Bands. The chorus room was usually empty after school. I’d brought my guitar, the one Dominic had given me.

I heard whispering as I walked through the door. Harmony’s back was to me, so she didn’t see me walk in. She had what looked like sheet music clutched in her hands, but she appeared to be talking to herself.

She began to sing, and again I was blown away by how much her voice had improved. Her skill was increasing every day. Her sudden singing ability, combined with her cozy new friendship with Selena, made me suspicious.

She must have sensed my presence, because she whipped around and glared at me. “What are you doing here?”

I held up my guitar case. “I thought I’d practice.”

The intensity of her glare diminished. “You can come back in a few minutes.”

“I’ll do that.” I started to leave, but turned around to add, “You sound really good, Harmony. Great even.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “It’s not good enough. Have you ever wanted something so badly, something that feels out of your reach?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “I bet you haven’t. I bet you get everything you want.”

“Nobody gets everything they want. I certainly don’t.”

“That’s not what it seems like,” she said. Her desire to confide in me abruptly ended. She propped her music up on the piano and sat on the bench, her back to me again. It was a clear signal to leave, but I didn’t.

She sang soft and low, in another language. It sounded like she was speaking German. I didn’t understand the words, but the emotions were clear. She was singing about a lost love, someone she loved but who didn’t love her back.

I could relate to that kind of rejection. I clapped loudly when she finished, but Harmony didn’t even move.

I went around to the other side of the piano to face her. “I didn’t know you spoke German.”

She was so still. I felt like she was somewhere else. Literally. I waved a hand in front of her face, but she didn’t even blink. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

“Harmony? Harmony!” She didn’t answer me. I snapped my fingers. “Hey, wake up already.”

She finally stirred. “W-w-what?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little tired. I’ve been practicing a lot. What were you saying again?”

“That I didn’t know you spoke German.”

“I don’t,” she said absently. Her mind was clearly on something else, but then she focused and her gaze sharpened. “Wait. What did you say?”

“The song,” I spelled out. “It was in German.”

“You heard wrong,” she insisted.

I wasn’t going to stand there arguing with her, and it was clear that she wasn’t going to give up the choir room any time soon.

After leaving school, I went to the Nightshade public library to do some research about Mr. Lindquist’s flute. Ms. Johns was at the reference desk, but her usual smile was missing.

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