Page 13 of Symphony for Lies (Tangled Truths #2)

The weekend was peaceful.

I spent most of it with my grandmother, and I managed to meet up with my friends to take my mind off the stress of the past few weeks. It mostly worked. That is until the main topic of conversation turned to the men in my life. Which was totally unnecessary.

When the new week started, things became hectic again. Even though the number of poisoning cases had declined, mainly because pet owners were being more cautious, some incidents still couldn’t be prevented. The police were doing their best, but they hadn’t been able to catch a suspect.

Jacob’s funeral took place on that Friday, and a huge crowd had gathered to say goodbye. It was heart-wrenching, especially when his mother gave him her final farewell.

The fact that the killer was still out there left a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth.

Days passed, and things seemed to settle down a little, at least on the surface.

My tutoring sessions had become more exhausting. The kids were preparing for their exams, which made things even more intense.

In a strange turn of events, Zane showed up more often to pick up his younger brother, and he tried to start a conversation with me each time, but I kept my distance.

It wasn’t just because he made me uncomfortable. It was his family. The Cole household had become a place I wanted to avoid. Whenever I tutored Simon at his home, I got caught up in his parents’ arguments.

His mother was still against him attending the group tutoring and wanted me to confirm her beliefs.

But I couldn’t do that.

Simon had transformed. He was making friends and looked happier, more like a child.I refused to take that away from him. Of course, I tried not to get too involved with the family drama, but I still did what I could for Simon.

Three weeks after the funeral, on a quiet Thursday, I took my lunch break in the clinic’s staff room.

I was alone, sipping my hot coffee, when a knock at the door interrupted my peace.

“Yeah?” I called out.

The door opened. I expected one of my colleagues to walk in, but my stomach dropped when I saw Officer Wilson.

He was in uniform. A dark blue-black uniform, crisp and intimidating, and his duty belt was strapped around his waist. In one hand, he held a black briefcase.

Wilson’s expression was tired as he said, “Sorry to interrupt your break.” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.“Can I sit?”

I nodded.

His aftershave hit me immediately. It was a sharp, clean scent mixed with something masculine and dark.

“I hate to bother you at work, but I have something important to discuss.”

My entire body tensed. Something about his tone made me uneasy.“Officer Wilson, did something happen…? Did I do something wrong?”

He lifted a brow, then shook his head. “Let’s just go with Spencer.

And no, you haven’t done anything wrong, Amelia.

” He placed the briefcase on the table, unlocking it with a soft click.

But before he opened it, his eyes flicked back to me.

“I was going to call you first to give you a heads-up… But I decided this was better in person.”

My fingers curled around my mug as my pulse picked up speed. The way he was dragging the whole thing out was making it worse.

But then he finally opened the case and pulled out several sheets of paper.“This might be an uncomfortable subject for you.”

I pushed my food aside and braced myself.“Spencer, please. Just tell me.”

“You mentioned before that the sheet music at the crime scene… might contain a hidden message, right? ”

“Oh… yeah… I thought so… though I didn’t see what was on it.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

Spencer let me gather my thoughts.And when I was sure my voice wouldn’t shake, I spoke carefully, “But, yes. I did say that.”

“Yesterday, we found another body. A new victim.”

My stomach dropped.

“This time, the body was found at an intersection.”

A lump formed in my throat as Spencer placed a single page on the table between us.“There were more sheet music pages left at the scene.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“And wind chimes.”

I flinched.

“The same pattern as the last crime scene.”

For a short moment, my vision blurred as images from the pavilion flashed through my mind.

Spencer gave me the time to process before he continued, “We consulted a few experts about the notes. But none of them found anything unusual.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

Nothing unusual? The notes weren’t a message? Or maybe… Maybe it wasn’t the sheet music at all...

“Honestly, we’re out of ideas. But I remembered your words. So, I’m trusting your instincts here.” He handed me the sheets of paper.“These are copies of the sheet music found at the crime scenes.”

I swallowed thickly.

The papers had dark stains that blotted out parts of the notes.

A wave of nausea rolled through me.

“The second victim had no connection to the first,” Spencer disclosed with a tight jaw. “That’s what makes this much harder.”

My fingers trembled slightly as I traced the notes with my eyes.

Beethoven. More specifically, Moonlight Sonata. The first two movements.

I could almost hear the melody as I scanned the paper. The first movement is calm yet tragic, a silent despair washing over the listener like gentle waves.

The second movement is slightly brighter but still hesitant, as if fighting against an invisible storm.

The third movement was missing.

It was hectic, uncontrollable—a complete explosion of emotions.

Were these sheets a message? Was the missing movement a warning of what was to come? Or was the real message hidden in the wind chimes?

I wasn’t sure anymore.

“The experts were right,” I whispered. “There’s no hidden message in the sheet music.”

“So?”

“I think the real message might be in the wind chime sounds. I tried to recall the melodies and figure out if they formed a message, but I didn’t know the exact order.”

Spencer’s brows lifted in surprise.A flicker of shock crossed his face.

“Did… I say something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No. I just didn’t expect you to remember that much detail.”

I lowered my gaze to my lap, my fingers twisting together in a nervous gesture as shame coiled in my chest.

Spencer must have noticed because he reached out and gave my shoulder a light tap.“That was a compliment, Amelia.”

I sighed nervously.

“My teacher once taught us something that might be relevant.” My words became hesitant. “It’s not common to hide messages in music, but it is possible. And there are different methods to do it. ”

“Tell me everything.”

I swallowed hard and hurriedly reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out my notepad and pen. My movements were rushed as I tried to explain my thoughts before I lost them.

“The first method is subtle,” I began, flipping open the notebook.

“Some composers hide tiny mistakes or slight variations in well-known melodies. They’re so minute that only someone who knows the original peace inside out would notice.

” I paused briefly, my pen scurrying across the paper.

“The second method is more direct. They use the notes as an alphabet; D stands for D, A for A, and so on. You can spell out all the messages if you figure out the right sequence.”

I glanced at Spencer. He was listening intently, and that made it easier to focus.

“The third method I know of is the hardest. It’s all about the arrangement. The real message could be hidden in the pauses, the emphasis on certain notes, or even the choice of instruments. It’s like a puzzle… and only the one who knows the rules can solve it.”

Spencer didn’t say a word, but the way he leaned slightly forward made it clear he was taking this seriously.

Encouraged, I flipped out a new page and began writing out the eerie melody I had heard when I found the body.

“I remember the pavilion had numbered columns, and each wind chime had a different tone. The sequence could be important.” My fingers tightened around my pen.“I don’t remember the exact order… but I tried to reconstruct the sounds.” I turned my notebook toward him.“This is what I came up with.”

Spencer’s eyes darkened as he scanned my notes.“This is just the beginning.”

“I don’t know if I’m right,” I admitted quietly. “This is just a theory. If I’m wrong— ”

“Amelia. You might not be wrong. And even if you are… this is still more than we had before.”

His words should have comforted me, but they didn’t.

Still, I nodded slowly. “But to figure that out, I’d have to hear them myself. And check if there are numbers.”

He nodded, exhaling deeply.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, pushing the sheets back toward him. “I’m not much help…”

At least that’s how it felt.

Spencer gave me a small approximation of a smile. “You don’t need to apologize. If anything, I should be thanking you.”

I wasn’t sure I had done anything worth thanking.

“I’ll go back to the scene and document the tones and numbers,” Spencer promised, tucking the papers back into the briefcase.

A sharp pang of anxiety twisted in my stomach.“I’m not an expert.”

“You don’t have to be. You’re helping me. And I believe you might be onto something.”

I nodded reluctantly, and he took that as a good sign.

“Sorry for ruining your break.”

I waved him off. I no longer had an appetite. That was the least of my concerns.

“I get the feeling. That this won’t be the last time I come to you.”

A shiver ran down my spine.“That’s possible. Especially considering Moonlight Sonata has three movements.”

The first two had already appeared.

A heavy silence hung between us.

Spencer tilted his head back. His tired eyes darkened under the dim light, and he suddenly looked older, as if the weight of the case was physically dragging him down.

“Seems like it,” he muttered under his breath.“Be careful, Amelia. Stay alert. And try not to be out alone too much.”

His words were gentle and meant to be comforting, but they only made my stomach twist.

That was impossible. Not with my job, not with my life.

Still, I forced a slight nod.“I’ll be careful.”

For a long moment, our gazes held, and even though we didn’t say anything, there was something quietly reassuring in that silence.

Something unspoken.

Eventually, Spencer cleared his throat and stood up.“Thanks for your time. I’ll reach out to you again if that’s alright.”

“You already have my number.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head.“That’s true.” He glanced at his watch.“Alright, I gotta go. Still have a ton of work to do. Also, this is all off the record. You’re not officially involved. But thanks for helping me out anyway.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind. I’m glad to help. Take care, Spencer.”

He gave a short nod and walked toward the door. As soon as it clicked shut, I collapsed.

Another murder.

Another message.

How many more victims would there be?

And why did it feel like this wasn’t just about the music?

As much as I appreciated Spencer’s trust in me, the thought of leading him in the wrong direction gnawed at my conscience. It was a huge responsibility.

I ran my fingers through my hair, frustration tangling in my nerves. I could only hope that this would all come to a good end.