Requiem Murder [Book 2 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] Read Free Page B

him failed. He gave equal attention to every committee member.
    "When can you come?” Ralph asked.
    "August,” Roger said. “It wouldn't be fair to break my contract here."
    Ralph frowned. “We need an organist for Passion Sunday and Easter."
    I glared. “You know that's impossible.” I turned to Roger. “Could you come to St. Stephen's as a guest organist, say in two weeks?"
    "I'll see if one of my students is available to take over here."
    I gave him my phone number. Before the waitress brought the check, Ralph pushed his chair back. “I have to get back. This is my busy season. I have two clients coming this evening.” He strode to the door.
    Judith made a face. Martin covered her hand with his. “Let's go. Do you want to hear Ralph complain for the entire ride home?"
    Beth, Roger and I lingered over coffee and dessert. After the bill was paid, he walked us to Beth's car. “It's been a pleasure,” he said.
    "For me as well,” Beth said.
    "I could listen to you forever.” As far as I was concerned, Roger had the job at St. Stephen's.
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    Chapter 2
    ~
    Kyrie
    -
    On the Wednesday after Easter, I stood in the kitchen and stared at the gloomy sky. The threat of rain had kept me from the garden and the spring clean up. I gathered the knickknacks I'd collected over the years and dusted or washed wooden or porcelain figures, some musical and some whimsical. There was little for me to do around my apartment. Last year when I'd broken my leg, my son had hired a woman to help me. She still came in once a week to clean.
    The phone rang. I sat in the window seat and reached for the receiver. Robespierre shifted to make room. When he wants, he can curl in a small space, but most of the time, he sprawls.
    "Mrs. Miller, Roger Brandon here."
    "What can I do for you?"
    When he'd come to St. Stephen's to play, he'd created quite a sensation. Edward had been so impressed by the music he'd offered Roger the job even though the other candidates hadn't auditioned. I'd heard about the flap this caused with the Vestry, but Edward had prevailed. He usually does.
    Roger laughed and the phone vibrated. Robespierre purred. I sighed.
    "Maybe it's what I can do for you,” he said.
    "And what would that be?"
    "The Vestry here voted to buy out the rest of my contract. I finish the end of May. It seems the job is wanted for the niece of the largest contributor when she graduates."
    "How do you feel about that?"
    He coughed. “It will give me time to settle in and organize music for the coming year. The program at St. Stephen's is larger than here. I called to see if you know a real estate agent I could contact."
    "I know several."
    He laughed again. “I knew you were the right person to call."
    "Do you want an apartment or a house?"
    "An apartment will be fine."
    "Let me make some calls and get back to you. Do you have a price range? Apartments are few and expensive around here."
    He named a figure that made me think he wasn't completely dependent on his salary.
    "It's a shame I have a good tenant. I could have rented you the first floor of my house."
    "That would have been great."
    "When do you want to come?"
    "I'm free most days."
    "One problem. My apartment is a one bedroom so I can't put you up overnight. I can call Judith Simpson. She has a guest room.” Though I knew she would be glad to have first dibs on him, I didn't want her to scare him off. Still, I didn't want him to stay in a motel.
    "Don't bother. I can drive down in the morning and back in the afternoon.” He gave me his phone number. “I'll be waiting for your call."
    I scratched Robespierre's head and chewed on an errant thought. Was there some reason other than church politics behind the contract buyout? Don't borrow trouble. The warning didn't comfort me.
    My first call was to Tracey Stanton, a member of St. Stephen's. She had a thriving real estate business.
    "Apartments,” she said. “A rare commodity."
    "It's for Roger Brandon, our