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Dead Is a Killer Tune Page 5
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I didn’t spend too much friend time with Andy. She was intensely competitive and a total thrill-seeker. She’d also known forever that she was a virago, so she always acted like she knew more than everyone else.
And Selena Silvertongue was her best friend. Or at least she used to be.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Andy said. “She’s just been caught up with this new band she’s in. They’re playing today, you know. The first round of the Battle of the Bands is taking place right here at the mall.”
My stomach did a little flip. I wondered if Dominic would be there too.
“Cool,” Eva said. “But why are they playing at the mall?”
“It’s good exposure for the merchants who are sponsoring the contest,” Andy said. “Plus, the acoustics are great in there.”
There were plenty of parking spots at the mall. Andy found one right up front. We hit the food court for lemonades and then strolled along, window-shopping.
Andy seemed a little sulky after we spotted Selena in a store with Harmony.
“Do you want to say hi?” I asked.
“No,” Andy said. “Let them have their band bonding or whatever. Besides, it looks like Selena’s helping Harmony pick out new clothes. She’s been losing weight lately so she probably needs some.”
Now that Andy mentioned it, I did notice that Harmony had lost some weight. I wondered if her makeover had to do with the band or something else.
“Those two are practically attached at the hip these days,” Eva said. “Remember when we saw them at the estate sale, Jess?”
“Estate sale?” Andy said. “What were they doing there?”
“Buying music stuff,” Eva said. “Did you hear about the theft?”
“Theft?” Andy repeated. After Eva filled her in, Andy said, “Jessica, why didn’t you tell me? We should be investigating.”
I shrugged. “My tattoo didn’t even get warm.”
“Maybe it’s having an off day,” Andy suggested. “You know the whirlwinds aren’t a hundred percent accurate.”
“They’re not?” I was surprised by the information.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Andy replied. “They help, but you can’t always count on it.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing the viragos need to worry about,” I said to her. “I told Flo all about it, and she didn’t seem to be worried.”
“Yeah, well, Flo’s a little preoccupied these days,” Andy said.
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you noticed?” Andy shook her head and her blond curls bounced. “Flo’s in love.”
“With Vinnie?” Eva asked.
“Of course with Vinnie,” I said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she retired from virago duty soon,” Andy said.
I stopped walking. “Flo wouldn’t do that.”
“She and Vinnie are talking about getting married,” Andy pointed out.
“So?”
“So that changes things,” Andy said.
“I don’t believe it,” I said. “Even if they do get married, Flo isn’t going to retire.”
“Believe it,” Andy said. “It’s going to happen. We should be ready for it.”
My stomach hurt at the thought. I changed the subject. “Aren’t those cute?” I pointed to a random pair of jeans in a store window.
Andy snorted. “Yeah, if you’re into mom jeans.”
“I think they’re cute,” I replied.
She thought I wasn’t looking and mouthed “Denial” to Eva.
They were honestly hideous, but I wasn’t going to back down and let her know she was right.
“I have a gift card to Nordstrom’s,” I said. “And I have to take these back. Let’s go in here.”
We returned the shoes with no problem, but I couldn’t find anything I wanted to buy with my gift card. Maybe because Andy had a comment for every single thing I tried on.
Pink sweats: “Clashes with your hair.” Long black skirt: “Makes you look washed out.”
Purple mini: “Not with your legs, I wouldn’t.” The last one was just mean because I knew that my legs were a plus. In fact, they were the one thing I really liked about my body.
“Andy, Jessica has the best legs in the freshman class,” Eva said angrily.
“Who says?” Andy asked derisively.
“The entire freshman class,” Eva snapped. “Plus, she’s gone out with two hot guys this year. How many have you dated?”
That shut Andy up. But I felt bad when I caught a miserable expression cross her face at the mention of hot guys. Did she have a crush on someone? And if so, who was it?
I changed the subject. “Is anybody else hungry? Let’s get smoothies. My treat.”
“Let me guess,” Andy said. “You have a gift card.”
“I certainly do.” We all laughed and the tension lifted.
We took the escalator up to the food court, where we ran into Dominic, Raven, and their Aunt Katrina.
“I’m so glad you guys made it,” Raven said.
“We’re checking out the competition before we perform,” Katrina explained. “We’re the fourth band today.”
On the second floor, near the food court, there were neat rows of folding chairs set up in front of a stage adorned with a NIGHTSHADE BATTLE OF THE BANDS banner.
“Let’s sit in the back,” Dominic said.
The seats gradually filled up. I waved to Rose Giordano and her boyfriend, Nicholas Bone, who were sitting with Nicholas’s dad.
Ms. Johns took the stage and announced the judges. There was a polite smattering of applause. The Battle of the Bands would be judged by three celebrity judges: Flo’s songwriter friend Hunter Verrat; Talulah Crank, who owned the indie label Cranky Kitten; and Teddie Myles, the owner of the Black Opal and a famous former rock star.
They were going to have to judge more than fifty bands over the course of the month. I didn’t envy them.
“Why isn’t Mitch Peverell one of the judges?” I asked idly while we waited for the first band to take the stage.
“He represents one of the bands,” Dominic said. “It’d be a conflict of interest.”
Ms. Johns announced the first band. “And now, give a round of applause for Hamlin!”
The band took the stage and started to tune up. I realized I’d seen the guitar player before, getting out of the town car at Mr. Lindquist’s estate sale. Hamlin launched into a deafeningly loud song. I fought the urge to clasp my hands over my ears and we were in the last row.
The band played three songs, and then, thankfully, their set was over, and we stood up to leave. Ms. Johns came out again and announced another band, Moonlight and Magic, so we sat back down. I’d never heard of the band before, but I certainly recognized the members when they walked onstage: Connor, Harmony, and Selena.
Selena played drums, Connor played guitar, and Harmony sang. It was amazing how much she’d improved. It was like she was a completely different person. I was happy to hear enthusiastic applause for them.
Then Ms. Johns announced Drew Barrymore’s Boyfriends. There was a roar of applause from the audience. The Hamlin fans had sour looks on their faces as DBBF took the stage.
Scotty Turntable’s performance was the hit of the show.
“He’s got a ton of charisma,” Raven commented. She wasn’t kidding. Scotty was practically causing girls to faint. After their performance, DBBF were surrounded by squealing fans.
They announced a ten-minute break, and we stood up to stretch our legs. A couple of girls went up to Connor and asked him for his autograph. I noticed he spent a lot of time talking to a pretty brunette. I had to suppress a twinge of jealousy. What was wrong with me? I didn’t know what I wanted. Or who.
Eva and I went over to say hi to Rose, who was Daisy’s older sister.
“Hi, Rose,” I said. “I haven’t seen you around lately.”
“So much homework,” she said. “And I’ve been busy in the lab, too.�
�� Rose was a science major at UC Nightshade.
We joined a group of girls from school. Mitch Peverell, the talent agent, was talking to them. “Who is your favorite member of Drew Barrymore’s Boyfriends?”
“I like Trevor,” a tall brunette said.
“Not me,” her friend, a blond girl with a purple streak in her hair, said. “Scotty Turntable is the heart and soul of DBBF.”
“And why is that?” Mr. Peverell asked intently.
“He writes all the songs,” the blonde stated. “And he started the band.”
Nicholas’s dad, Mr. Bone, came up and shook Mr. Peverell’s hand.
“Fine show,” Mr. Bone pronounced. “I really enjoyed Hamlin.” He wore his customary loud Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. “Fine show, indeed.”
Eva gave me a look, but we both nodded politely. We said our goodbyes, but we were barely out of earshot when Eva said, “Maybe the fumes finally got to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I hear formaldehyde rots the brain,” she replied darkly. Mr. Bone was the town undertaker.
Then I remembered that Rose was psychic, a telepath, which meant she’d probably read Eva’s mind and heard what she’d said even before she said it aloud. And we were talking about her boyfriend’s father.
“People have different tastes in music,” I said.
Dominic, Raven, and their Aunt Katrina still sat in the back row. Katrina was staring at the now empty stage. “I’m going over to talk to him,” she said. She twirled her hair when she talked.
When she came back, Katrina’s eyes were strangely dilated. “Wasn’t he just the best?” she breathed. “His name is Brett.”
“You mean Scotty Turntable?” I asked. “I liked their new song, but the guitar player in Hamlin—”
“I know,” she said. I thought she was agreeing how terrible he was, but her next words cleared that up. “Brett was the best thing about Hamlin.”
Dominic stared at his aunt. “He was?”
She nodded fervently.
I had assumed she was talking about Drew Barrymore’s Boyfriends. Eva and I exchanged puzzled looks behind her back. Hamlin’s guitarist, Brett, could barely hold his guitar.
“You liked his playing, then?” Dominic asked carefully.
“Liked it?” she asked. “I didn’t like it, I loved it! Look what I have!” She held out a Hamlin tee.
Katrina was a killer bass player. There was no way she could admire an amateur performance like that. But apparently she did. She lost interest in our conversation and gravitated back to Brett, who wore a Hamlin trucker hat and satin jacket.
Dominic finally had to drag her away so they could get ready for their set.
Side Effects May Vary were fabulous, as usual, but I noticed Mitch Peverell at the back, watching them with a frown on his face.
When Katrina took the stage, she wasn’t wearing her naughty nurse’s outfit or even her leopard print thigh-high boots and black micro mini. She wasn’t even wearing a wig. Instead, she came out with her hair in pigtails and plain old jeans and a T-shirt.
“That’s a new look for her,” Eva commented.
“It’s a Hamlin tee,” I said. I pointed to the band’s name in enormous letters on the front of her shirt.
“She’s got it bad for that singer,” Eva said.
“Katrina wouldn’t change her entire look just to please some guy,” I said firmly. “And besides, they just met.”
Eva shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”
“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” I said. But as I looked at Dominic up on the stage, I couldn’t help but remember how head over heels I had felt the first time I had heard him sing.
After the set ended and we were saying our goodbyes, Jeff Cool grabbed a skateboard from one of the kids in the crowd and hopped on it. He wobbled at first, but then whizzed past us through the food court, dodging frazzled diners.
“Jeff, quit clowning around,” Dominic yelled, but Jeff ignored him.
He turned and then gathered speed as he headed for the escalator.
“I’ve never seen him on a board,” Dominic said nervously. “I doubt he’s ever skated in his life.”
“He doesn’t have a helmet or pads on,” Raven commented. “If he falls, he’s going to get hurt.”
The skateboard clattered down a few steps of the escalator—but Jeff wasn’t on it. We ran to the railing and watched in horror as he flew. As he landed in the fountain on the first floor, he put his arms out to catch himself. There was a loud snapping sound when he went down.
“Someone call an ambulance!” Katrina ordered.
“On it!” Rose said. She was talking to the dispatcher on her cell, but ran down the escalator steps.
We followed her. She bent down next to Jeff. “Hang on.”
“Should we move him?” I asked. The water in the fountain had to be cold. Fortunately, someone from mall security turned off the water.
Paramedics arrived and tended to Jeff’s injuries. It looked like both of his arms were broken.
“How did this happen?” Dominic said. “How are we going to perform without a guitarist?”
After they’d taken Jeff out in a gurney, the crowd dispersed.
“Let’s go home,” Andy said. “I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
Jeff was a showoff most of the time, but what had possessed him to hop on a skateboard?
Chapter Eight
There was no school on Monday because of a teachers’ in-service day, which meant it was time to tackle cleaning the dollhouse. Katie and Kellie would be up and nagging me before too long. I carried the dollhouse castle into the backyard and tried not to make any noise. Everyone else in my family was still sleeping.
The outside of the castle was covered in a layer of dust. I took a damp rag and sponged it off. While I worked, I heard a squeaking noise, but when I looked around, I couldn’t find anything to account for such an odd sound.
“I wish I could figure out what that sound was,” I muttered. The sound grew louder until I realized it came from the inside of the dollhouse.
I opened it carefully and prayed that it wasn’t a rat. Instead of a rodent, a doll stared up at me with wide, unblinking eyes. She wore a cornflower blue silk dress and a tiny crown upon her head. “Are you a simpleton?” she squeaked.
I stared at her slack-jawed.
“A peasant, then? You are quite as filthy as one,” she said. Her delicate nose turned up as if she smelled something bad.
“Hey, no call for insults!” My long white T-shirt nightie and fuzzy socks were covered in dust and grime. “Have some manners, Blondie!” I couldn’t believe I was arguing with a doll.
I dialed Eva’s cell phone number and waited for her to answer. “You’ve got to get over here now,” I said in a low voice. “You’re not going to believe it! Come straight to my backyard.” I wanted Eva there to reassure me that I hadn’t let the attic dust get into my brain or something.
I peeked over at the princess. She ignored me as she sat down at a vanity in front of a gilt mirror, took off her crown, and brushed her long golden locks.
Her bedroom was all white and gold, with the bed in the shape of a swan. Another bedroom, painted azure blue, had an elaborately carved bed and a bearskin rug on the floor. It looked masculine, but I didn’t see a prince anywhere.
Eva rushed into my backyard about fifteen minutes later. Her face was red from running. “What could possibly be so important that I had to tear over here at”—she stopped to catch her breath—“eight o’clock in the morning?”
“This,” I said.
I pointed to the dollhouse.
“You want to play dolls?” she asked. The look of confusion on her face made me laugh.
“No,” I said. “Check this out.” The princess doll continued to brush her hair with her tiny gold brush. “That’s . . . that’s . . . amazing!” she replied.
We stared at the dollhouse. A suit of armor walked
down the great stone hall. A black mastiff followed behind him.
In the kitchen, a rosy-cheeked cook opened the door of a copper stove and put in a pie.
Eva produced her handheld camcorder from the pocket of her hoodie. “I’ve got to shoot this,” she said.
The princess barked out an order and the tiny figures froze. No matter how much Eva tried coaxing them, the castle occupants would not move.
“Stop motion will work,” Eva said. She picked up the princess and placed her in her swan bed. A sulky expression crossed the princess’s face. Eva muttered to herself as she put the other dolls in various poses.
“What’s your name, anyway?” I asked the doll.
“Shoot,” Eva said. “I’m almost out of memory. I can’t wait until I can afford a decent camcorder.”
As soon as Eva stopped recording, the princess spoke. “I am Princess Antonia,” she said. “But you may call me Your Royal Highness.”
I decided to try killing her with kindness. “How may I be of assistance, Your Highness?”
“My prince is missing,” she said. “We are supposed to live happily ever after, and how are we to do that when I cannot even find him?”
I couldn’t manage my own love life. I wasn’t sure I could help a six-inch animated doll find true happiness.
“Maybe he’s still in Natalie’s attic,” Eva commented.
Princess Antonia smothered a sob. “I am bereft without him.”
Eva and I exchanged a glance. The princess was a little over the top. “When did you see him last?” I finally asked. I didn’t really have time to look for her pint-sized prince, but I still felt sorry for her.
Princess Antonia wore the smile of someone who was used to getting her own way. “Yesterday,” she said. “He has been looking upon my pleasing visage for an eternity. Your wish craft allowed him to move about the castle.”
“Wish craft?” I asked.
“You do not even know the kind of magic you have wrought?” she said scornfully. “The powder is very powerful. A beginning sorceress should not attempt to use it.”
“And then what happened to the prince?”
“He made his bows and pledged his love and then simply vanished,” she said.