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service a chance.”
    I groaned. “Not that advice.” Aunt Millie had been happily unmarried all of her life, but that didn’t dampen her enthusiasm for matchmaking.
    “Oh. You’re getting highlights.”
    “No. My student, Eric Metz, asked me to tell his girlfriend that he was okay. I did and decided to ask her some questions about the murdered director.”
    “Did you learn anything?”
    “Turns out Greg Lucas had an affair and got divorced.” I took a swig of coffee to fortify myself and added, “My star performer also thinks my presence sabotages any chance the team has at winning this year.”
    Millie put her cup on the counter with a thud. “Your student clearly doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.”
    “She might be right,” I admitted. I’d come to that conclusion before falling asleep. “Greg Lucas was a decent director, but his real skill was networking with the show choir judges.”
    Networking was not one of my strengths, something my agent constantly pointed out to me. Talent was a great thing, but only if someone in a position of authority noticed it. I didn’t want to be noticed because of who I knew. I wanted to make it to the top because of my talent, which was probably part of the reason I was directing show choir instead of touring Europe.
    Aunt Millie shrugged off my concern. “You’re new. The judges won’t expect you to know their kids’ names and take them to dinner. I bet they’ll be watching your team more closely because a director they don’t know is in charge. In my book, that’s an advantage.”
    “I hope you’re right.”
    “It’s my experience that people who make lots of friends also make lots of enemies.” Millie gulped down the rest of her coffee and straightened her glasses. “An angry ex-wife is probably the tip of the iceberg. I have to run to a meeting. See you at dinner. I saw a new recipe on television that I’m dying to try.”
    Oh goody. Something to look forward to.
    My phone rang as I popped the last of the bagel into my mouth. Larry. I chewed, swallowed, and answered the phone just as it went to voice mail. Damn. I hit redial.
    “Paige. Good, I’m glad I caught you.” Larry sounded a bit tired but upbeat. “Some of us are getting together to plot strategy. Greg’s death is a tragedy, but it does open up the field for this year’s competitions. We don’t want to miss that opportunity.”
    I assured Larry I would meet them at ten. Hanging up, I couldn’t help but wonder if the murderer had just that opportunity in mind while hitting Greg on the head with a microphone and wrapping the cord around his neck.

    An hour later I parallel parked my blue Cobalt in front of Armanti’s Bakery and Coffee shop. The place was located on the corner of Lake and Main, right in the heart of the recently refurbished downtown Prospect Glen. The shops, eateries, and public buildings were all a combination of red brick and white paint with large oak wood signs. Except for Armanti’s. Its door was green, the shutters were painted red, and the sign blinked a combination of red, green, and white.
    The inside was a lot like the outside—all Italian. Statues, paintings, Italian flags, and maps covered every inch of wall space. A large fountain that looked a lot like a converted birdbath sat in the middle of the café. Larry waved at me from a table in the back. I waved and headed over to join him and a beaming Felicia.
    “Paige, I’m so glad you could make it,” she gushed as I sat down. “Larry told me you spent some time in Italy, so I suggested we come here. I thought the atmosphere would make you feel more at ease.”
    How anyone could feel at ease with naked stone cherub butts pointed at them was beyond me. Still, I appreciated the gesture if not the décor.
    “Why don’t you get yourself some coffee or a snack whilewe wait for our fourth to arrive? The raspberry scones are worth the extra round at the gym. Trust me.”
    “Someone else is coming?” I