Page 15 of Echoes of a Silent Song
“Whatever the reason, it happened more than fifty years ago.”Why was he so concerned about a student gone more than five decades?Didn’t he have enough to think about in the here and now?
“But people still lose hope today.”His voice sounded strained.“Every day people feel they can’t go forward.And maybe if I get to the truth about Iris—about this music, even if she’s not the composer—then ...I don’t know, but it might help me somehow.Help me unlock my creativity again.Help me deal with ...”He swallowed hard.“This isn’t something I’d normally tell someone I just met.But my fiancée, Rayne, died by suicide.A little over five years ago.”
The air leached out of Blair’s lungs, and her stomach plummeted.“Oh, Callum.I’m so sorry.”
“So to move halfway across the country and to have that come up here, in a job I never wanted, never even thought about ...”He looked up.“If God really does have a plan, if he really does have a reason for dropping me here, then ...maybe this is part of it.I want to know why someone so full of life, so full of talent, would be unable to go on.Partly because of Rayne, but partly the universal question as to why.Or what if it wasn’t a suicide?What if the cops got it wrong?What if Iris ...Oh, I don’t know what I’m even saying anymore.”Gone was the arrogant facade.Pleading took its place.“But music like this is a glimpse of the Divine, and it deserves to be recognized.To be performed.If Iris Wallingford is the one who wrote it, then Peterson—the world—needs to know that.They need to know her.To learn her story.But I’ll need your help.You know these students.This community.You’re an insider here.I’m not and never will be.”
The reminder that this was just a layover for him, not his final destination, needled her.But at least he wasn’t filling her head with promises he never intended to keep.There was value in being up-front and honest.
If only everyone in her life had been that way.
Callum’s phone buzzed on the desk, and he picked it up and gave it a glance.“Vic says he didn’t know her.”
“Not at all?”Blair frowned.“That’s surprising.”
“He says he knew who she was but that she was pretty quiet.Kept to herself.He said if she indeed wrote music, the piece might be hers, but he doesn’t have any idea how it got in our library.”He set the phone back down.“So Vic’s a dead end.But surely someone knew her, someone who would be able to tell us more.”
“Probably, but we have to be careful,” she pointed out.“We don’t want to cause any of her loved ones further pain.”
“If her loved ones already know what happened, then they can help me.And if they don’t, maybe we can help them.”He paused.“Besides, what if something we learn could help one of the kids?Surely you know what a crisis teen mental health is in right now.What if one of them is having the same thoughts as Iris?As Rayne?”
She tightened her arms across her midsection.“It’s an awfully low tactic, bringing the kids into this.”
“Tactic?”His brows inched together, and he studied her in a way that wasn’t unkind but was sharp enough to see through the walls she’d spent years building around herself.“Who hurt you, Blair?”
Her eyes flew open, and she drew back.How did he know?She learned to read every nuance, every gesture, of whichever director she worked with, but that level of mind reading wasnotsupposed to be reciprocated.“It doesn’t matter.”She studied the carpet.“Besides, it was a long time ago.”
“Sounds like maybe not long enough.”
The husky tenderness in his voice caressed her wounded heart.
Well.Maybe he wouldn’t be here past this year.But they were stuck together for the next nine months.
He needed this, and the kids needed him.And if digging five decades into the past would help him, then that was what they’d do.
“Okay.I’ll help you.But you have to trust me and not go barreling into this town guns blazing.”
“So ...the opposite of how I’ve handled the choirs so far.”
His sheepish grin, against her will, tugged out a smile of her own.“Basically, yes.”
His smile widened, provoking unexplained warmth in the center of her chest.“Then, Maestra, I will follow your lead.”
Blair held back a snort.She’d believe that when she saw it.
“Finally.”Stationed by the hallway leading to the parking lot, Joy made an exaggeration of looking at her watch, the band festooned with burgundy alto clefs.
Blair rolled her eyes.“Oh, enough with the drama.I’m not that late.”
“Yes, but I’ve got a schedule, ma’am.”Joy shouldered her enormous tie-dye bag and started toward the exit.
No lie.Joy did have a tight schedule.In fact, the only nonwork time the two frequently had together was their 3:30 p.m.gym trip, squeezed between the final bell and when Joy needed to pick up her kids from day care.With Joy’s chaotic home life and stressful job, Blair was constantly amazed at how she continually made everything work.It was a busy life.
Busy, but full.
“And I’ve got a cat.”Blair lengthened her stride to keep up with her fast-paced friend.“Who’ll get yowly at me if I’m not home in time to feed him.”
Joy gave Blair a sidelong glance.“Doesn’t Walter have a self-feeder?”
