Dead Ringer Read Online Free PDF Page B

last possibility. It was too creepy, too scary.
    â€œOr,” JT said, “maybe someone had a beef specifically with the victim. Someone who has nothing to do with the orchestra, and who followed the cellist to the church.”
    â€œI hope that’s the case.” I slumped over the breakfast bar, overwhelmed by all the possibilities.
    Perhaps sensing my darkening mood, Finnegan lifted his head and whined.
    â€œIt’s okay, boy,” I reassured him. “Don’t worry about me.”
    â€œBut we do.” JT’s eyes were full of concern.
    I’d always admired his eyes. They were such a unique shade of brown. Like root beer with sunlight shining through it. At the moment, the worry in them warmed my heart.
    â€œNo need,” I said, trying to smile even though I felt weighed down by an array of emotions. “I’ll be fine once the killer is caught.”
    JT didn’t look convinced. I was touched by the fact that he cared enough to worry, and my spirits lifted, if only slightly.
    â€œReally, JT. I’ll be okay.”
    He didn’t press the issue, instead crossing the kitchen to his fancy coffee machine. Even though he preferred plain old black coffee himself, he’d bought a machine that could make who-­knew-­how-­many different drinks. It wasn’t really for him, though. He’d bought it for all the musicians who came and went on a regular basis as they recorded albums in his studio. And for me. He knew I loved cappuccinos and lattes.
    â€œSomething to drink?” he offered.
    â€œA cappuccino, please.”
    When my drink was ready, he set it on the granite countertop and came around to sit on the stool beside me. My cell phone chimed and I fished it out of my pocket. Hans had sent me a text message.
    How are you doing today?
    The fact that he had checked in on me warmed me on the inside. I tapped out a quick reply as I sipped my cappuccino.
    I’m okay. You?
    â€œHans . . .” JT said, looking at my phone. “Isn’t that your conductor?”
    â€œYes.” I tried my best to sound casual.
    â€œSince when does your conductor send you text messages?”
    â€œHe stayed with me after I found the body yesterday. Until the police arrived. He’s just checking in to see how I’m doing.”
    My phone chimed again as another message popped up.
    Good. But I’d be even better if you’d have dinner with me tonight.
    â€œRight,” JT said with a wry edge to his voice. “And checking in on you includes asking you out to dinner?”
    Against my will, my cheeks flushed. Without sending a reply to Hans, I shoved my phone back in my pocket.
    â€œWhat does it matter?” I focused on drinking my cappuccino, careful to keep my eyes away from JT.
    â€œIsn’t he twenty years older than you?” JT’s voice held a mixture of disapproval and disbelief.
    â€œSeventeen,” I corrected, downing the rest of my cappuccino in one gulp. “And what does that matter? We’re both adults.”
    â€œOkay, sure. But he’s basically your boss, Dori.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œWhat if things don’t work out? What if things go south and he kicks you out of the orchestra?”
    â€œHe wouldn’t do that!”
    â€œHow can you be sure?”
    â€œBecause!”
    â€œBecause?”
    I wanted to growl at JT. I was so frustrated and angry that it was hard for me to form any words. As I tried to come up with something to say to defend myself, JT’s expression softened.
    â€œI just don’t want you to get hurt, Dori. I know how much you love being in the orchestra. I don’t want you to lose that, and I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”
    Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes, and that only annoyed me further. “Why do you assume he’ll break my heart?”
    JT was silent for a moment. When he finally did speak, he avoided my question.