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asked. The three of us were the only ones who had represented Prospect Glen High at show choir camp.
    “Our drama teacher, Devlyn O’Shea.” Larry leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted. “He choreographs all the musicals. We thought he might be able to help with the show choir this year.”
    I tried not to take that as a knock on my choreographing abilities and failed. Plastering a smile on my face, I excused myself from the table and got a large latte with extra whipped cream and a cinnamon roll. I was bolstering my bruised ego with sugar and fat. Sue me.
    Taking a hit of coffee, I headed back across the room. Larry was gesturing wildly. Felicia’s eyes flashed as she said something back. Larry’s neck turned bright red. This was not a happy conversation. Felicia opened her mouth to say something else and spotted me. “The cinnamon rolls here are fabulous. Good choice.”
    I sat down and looked from Larry to Felicia. He was looking like someone had drop-kicked his puppy. She was giving me a cheesy smile. Something was up.
    “What’s the problem?” I asked.
    Felicia looked down at her hands. Larry’s ears turned redder than his neck. “I was just telling Felicia about Eric. She was upset we couldn’t do more to help him.”
    “Did you get in touch with his parents?”
    “They’re driving back.”
    Maine had to be at least twelve hundred miles away from our small Chicago suburb. I did the mental math. With stops for food and gas, Eric’s parents might be here by tomorrow. “Is Eric still in jail?”
    “Ithink the detective was going to let him go home.” Larry shrugged, then smiled as he spotted someone behind me. I turned to see a dark-haired man walking through the front door. The man was dressed in gray slacks, a powder-blue-and-violet-striped shirt, and white suspenders. Despite the plethora of pastel, he managed to ooze sex appeal. The guy looked around the room, smiled, and walked over to our table. Wow. Maybe allowing the drama teacher to help me choreograph wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
    “Sorry I’m late, kids,” he said, standing to my left. I looked up at him and smiled. His features were too angular to be called traditionally handsome, and his nose was slanted a bit to the left. He also had a bruise over his left eye. Yet, something about the way the pieces fit together made him the most attractive guy I’d met in years.
    “Hi. I’m Paige.” Was I witty or what?
    “Devlyn.” The man walked around the table to take the seat opposite mine. “How are you holding up? I heard you were the unfortunate soul who found Greg’s body.”
    Finding a dead body wasn’t the claim to fame I was looking for, so I just nodded and asked, “Did you know Greg?”
    “I choreographed North Shore High School’s musical last year. Greg was the music director.”
    “Devlyn did an amazing job.” Felicia put her hand on Devlyn’s arm and giggled. “I have no idea how you taught those kids to dance like that in only seven weeks.”
    Damn. Devlyn had to be the guy Felicia was dating.
    Or maybe not. He gently shrugged off her hand and leaned back in his chair. “It’s easy to teach kids who are willing to put in the work. I’m excited to work with our show choir. Music in Motion is a great group.”
    I blinked, then remembered. Music in Motion was the name of the top show choir. My show choir.
    “And this year we have a real chance at taking first,” Larry declared. “Which is why we’re all here. Let’s talk strategy.”
    An hour later, we had a list of songs—all songs I’d already decided on—ready to go. Devlyn proved to be an unexpected ally. Whenever Larry or Felicia suggested a song, he’d take one look at my face and launch into a reason why it was (a) overdone, (b) not quite right, or (c) a surefire audience killer. I ate my cinnamon bun, ordered another cup of coffee, and let Devlyn fight my battles for me.
    “This is the first time in years we have a