Dead Ringer by Sarah Fox Read Free Book Online Page B

his innocence. But were the police?
    Maybe Hans wasn’t a suspect. Maybe the police simply thought he had some valuable information that hadn’t even occurred to him earlier. I didn’t quite buy that explanation, though. The detectives’ demeanor had suggested that Hans was indeed a suspect, which was ridiculous.
    Or was it?
    I pushed that flicker of doubt aside, but it continued to tickle at my mind, working its way back into my thoughts slowly but surely. How much did I really know about Hans? He’d only started conducting the Point Grey Philharmonic three months ago, and last night was the first time we’d spent any real time alone together. What if he did have a reason to kill Jeremy?
    Turning over and tugging at my blankets, I told myself that I was crazy to doubt Hans even for a second. He wasn’t a murderer. He couldn’t be.
    Maybe everything would make more sense in the morning. I’d get in touch with Hans and he’d tell me that everything was fine, that the police had no more interest in him. At least, I hoped that was the way it would play out.
    Holding onto that hope, I finally managed to drift off into a fitful sleep in the early hours of the morning. But even what sleep I did manage to get was troubled by restless, disturbing dreams, filled with shadowy dangers and a sense of being hunted. When I woke just after six-­thirty, I didn’t bother trying to get back to sleep. Throwing aside my blankets, I headed straight for the shower, hoping that the soothing, hot water would help to clear and calm my mind.
    It didn’t.
    After dressing and eating a banana, I sent a text message to Hans.
    Are you ok? How did things go?
    I stared at my phone, hoping for an immediate reply. None came.
    On edge, I worked away at cleaning my kitchen, putting away the dishes I’d left in the drying rack and washing the countertops.
    Hans still hadn’t replied.
    I moved on to the bathroom, scrubbing all the surfaces until they shined.
    Still no reply.
    I couldn’t stand it any longer. I was anxious and wound up, my nerves taut and strained like the hairs of a violin bow tightened too far. When I took a second to really think, I realized that the whole thing with Hans wasn’t all that bothered me. I didn’t like how I’d left things with JT. I didn’t want to hear any more of his opinions about my relationship with Hans, but I also didn’t want anything putting a strain on our friendship. It was far too important to me.
    I picked up my phone—­still without any messages from Hans—­and sent a quick text to JT.
    Sorry about yesterday. Can I come over?
    This time I didn’t have to wait long for a response. JT texted me back less than a minute later.
    I’m sorry too. Come on over.
    I smiled with relief, some of the tension easing out of my body. I gathered up everything I would need for the day, including my violin, and set off for JT’s place. A quarter of an hour later, I arrived at his house and entered through the front door. This time, JT and Finnegan met me in the front hall.
    After my customary hug fest with Finnegan, I stood up, leaving my violin case on the floor by my feet. JT gave me a lopsided grin that warmed my heart and eased away even more of my tension.
    â€œWhy don’t we forget about yesterday?” he said.
    I smiled back at him, feeling the best I had since the police had shown up on Hans’s doorstep. “Sounds good to me.”
    He nodded toward the back door. “It’s nice and sunny out. Finn and I were thinking of hanging out in the backyard for a while.”
    I looked at Finnegan and he wagged his fluffy tail, giving me his biggest doggie grin. I patted him on the head and picked up my violin. “I’ll join you guys in a second.”
    I went into my studio and dropped off my shoulder bag and instrument. I checked my phone before slipping it into the pocket of my jeans. I hadn’t