The Philharmonic was off from Memorial Day through mid-July, when rehearsals resumed. Usually during the summer Scott would attend a festival, but this year he’d decided not to. He was going to attend a week of master classes, led by the principal cellist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, in San Francisco during the first week of July. Until then, for the rest of June, he was going to catch up on his reading and enjoy being single. He was playing - even when the Philharmonic was on break, he played three hours a day - when, from a distance, he heard his phone ring. He never let a phone call disturb his playing, so he’d left the phone in the kitchen. When he finished the piece, he went downstairs and listened to the message. His stomach fell when he heard the voice. It was Jamie. “Hey, Scott, it’s Jamie. Sorry to hear you’ve gotten tangled up in that wedding murder. But I’m calling about something different.
