Page 16 of Echoes of a Silent Song
Blair sighed.“You’re right.”
“Hey.”Joy paused and gave Blair’s forearm a gentle squeeze.“You’ve got a freedom I’d kill to have sometimes.”
“And you’ve got a family.”The nose-to-the-grindstone approach that had driven Blair through college and graduate school had reaped rewards in her job, leading her to be full-time salaried staff instead of hourly, like most accompanists were.
But the rest of it ...the husband, the kids, the Sheltie ...so far all of that had passed her by.
“So whatdidtake so long?”Joy shoved the door open, and a blast of humid air hit them both.
Squinting against the summer sun, Blair dug her sunglasses from her bag.“Callum discovered our choral library, and we picked out some music for the fall concert.”
“Well, you’re still calling him Callum and not Gollum, so maybe there’s hope.”
Blair laughed.“Gollum?”
“You seriously hadn’t thought of that?”
“No, because I’m not a terrible, horrible person.”Blair gave Joy a gentle shove.“But I may keep it on file for the next time he hacks me off.”
“Speak of the devil ...”
Across the parking lot, exiting through the front—he evidently didn’t know about the shortcut from the music hallway—strode Callum, messenger bag draped over one shoulder, scrolling his phone and walking toward an aging BMW that, despite the luxury label, had clearly seen better days.
Hmm.Maybe he really did have money issues.
In which case maybe his temporary status here was indeed far moreabout returning to the life he knew and loved than anything to do with Peterson.
A chirp sounded as Blair unlocked her car.“Hey, do you remember ever hearing anything about Iris Wallingford?”
Joy paused beside a maroon, bumper sticker–plastered minivan.“Iris who?”
“Wallingford.She died by suicide during her senior year in 1970.The newspaper said she was a music student.”
“A music student.Wow.”Joy’s expression turned pensive.“Maybe that’s why the auditorium is haunted.”
“The auditorium is not haunted.You just don’t understand the light board.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not haunted.”Joy opened the backseat of her van, strewed as usual with toys, empty juice boxes, and stray french fries.“It’s a known fact that every auditorium has a ghost.Or at least a gremlin.Especially if a student who frequented said auditorium was later found dead under mysterious circumstances.That’s ghost hunting 101.”
“Most people don’t watch ghost shows to relax, Joy.”
“Most people don’t have their career success depend on the cooperation of teenagers either.And yet here we are.”Joy tossed her bag onto the floor of the backseat and turned to face Blair.“How did Iris Wallingford come up, anyway?”
Blair leaned against the door of her car.“Callum and I found a piece of sheet music in the choral library today.It’s handwritten and unfinished but utterly gorgeous.I got goose bumps when I played it.The piano part is a little clunky, but the choral writing, the harmonies ...oh.They were something special.”
Joy’s brows lifted.“What makes you guys think Iris Wallingford wrote it?”
“I remember hearing rumors growing up that she wrote music.And if she really was the composer, that might explain why it was never finished.”
Joy pursed her lips in thought.“Hmm.Did you guys ask Nelson?”
“Callum did.Vic says he doesn’t really remember the piece or the girl, so that’s a dead end.But Callum’s determined to investigate.”
“Poking at old wounds?That won’t backfire at all.”
“Right?That’s what I told him.He didn’t listen.”
“Of course he didn’t.”Joy opened her door.“Conductors.”
