End Me a Tenor by Joelle Charbonneau Read Free Book Online

according to the Internet, no one who tasted the drug actually lived. But if the poison had a strong smell, I was banking on it having some kind of flavor.
    A flavor David didn’t notice. If he had, I’m sure there would have been a look on his face. From our brief encounter, I suspected David wasn’t the type to suffer imperfect-tasting water. His dissatisfaction would have shown. But it hadn’t. I’d been looking straight at him, and he’d smiled. The water tasted as he expected it to. That had to mean something. Too bad I didn’t have a clue what that something was.
    Deciding the cops would have to come up with the answer to that one, I crawled back into bed and made a vow. Now that I could clear myself of any suspicion, I was going to steer clear of this murder investigation. End of story.

    Sneaking out of the house before Millie got out of bed wasn’t cowardice. It was self-preservation. The radio report told me the public works department had shattered the snow-day dreams of my students. Most days, I would have joined the students in their disappointment, but today was Tuesday. There were only two days left until the school board would pass judgment on my show choir coaching abilities. If I didn’t want to find myself unemployed, my choir needed all the rehearsal time it could get.
    Several students were waiting at the choir room door when I arrived. I slid the key in the lock and asked everyone to take off their wet shoes before tracking slush into the room. The way my luck was going, the combination of wet floors and complicated dance moves would land someone in the emergency room.
    Dumping my coat and bag in the office, I changed my shoes, got out the music, and headed back into the choir room ready to work. A quick head count told me twelve of my fourteen singers had arrived. I heard the final two come through the door as I walked to the closet to retrieve the CD player. Voices whispered behind me. The minute I turned, everyone went quiet.
    Crap. There were only two reasons for teenagers to stop whispering when you faced them: because you had an alien-looking pimple on your nose or because you were the topic of juicy gossip. For the first time in my life, I was hoping I had a zit.
    “Is it true you watched a guy get murdered last night?”
    Damn. So much for the pimple. “Yes, I was at rehearsal last night when David Richard died.”
    “Was there lots of blood?” Blonde, angelic-looking Emily Svoboda’s eyes were filled with equal parts disgust and glee.
    Yikes. I chewed on my bottom lip as I debated what I should say. When I’d taken this job, Larry had sat me down and given me a dissertation on the topics that were and were not acceptable when talking to students. Murder hadn’t been on either list. Now what?
    I could try to stall until a real teacher walked through the door. Devlyn would be here any minute. But waiting felt wimpy, so I said, “No, Emily. There wasn’t any blood. David Richard was poisoned.”
    The boys looked fascinated. The girls were shocked. Chessie looked intrigued. Great.
    Making a note to keep my water bottle with me at all times, I sat at the piano to start vocal warm-ups. Before my fingers could play the first chord, Eric asked, “Have the police arrested anyone yet?”
    “Not that I know of, Eric.” But I was hoping they’d have it wrapped up soon. Being on the potential suspect list, even if I was at the very bottom, wasn’t any fun. “I’m sure the police are working hard to track down the person behind David’s murder.”
    My fingers moved toward the piano keys.
    But Eric wasn’t ready to sing. “Are you going to help the cops solve the murder?”
    “I think the police are more than capable of solving the murder themselves.”
    “They weren’t last time.”
    I met Eric’s serious eyes and could see the concern behind them. No doubt he was thinking about the time the police questioned and almost arrested him for murder of choir director Greg Lucas. I was