False Notes Read Online Free Page A

trying to fit that bit of information in with what I already knew.
    George was clicking on another link. A second later a colorful site loaded on the screen. The headline read, “River Heights Music Conservatory.” Just under that, it said, “Coming Soon: Check this page for results of the High School Talent Search scholarship competition.”
    The name of the competition was in a different color from the other words. “Is that a link?” I asked George, pointing to it.
    She clicked on it. Another page came up. This one included a list of alphabetized names and audition times.
    “Scroll down and see if Leslie Simmons is on the list,” I told George.
    Bess gave me a perplexed look. “Of course she is,” she said. “Everyone knows she’s trying out for the scholarship.”
    “Here it is,” George said, peering at the screen. “‘Simmons, L.: eight fifteen A.M. ’ It’s right here below—oops!” She giggled.
    “What’s so funny?” I asked, leaning over her shoulder for a better look.
    George pointed to a name on the list. “Check it out. The name above Leslie Simmons is ‘Sharon, D.’ But when I first looked at it, I thought it said, ‘Shannon, D.’”
    Bess and I both laughed, realizing immediatelywhy George had found that funny. The three of us had gone through school with a girl named Deirdre Shannon, and she was just about the last person we would expect to see trying out for a music scholarship. Deirdre was pretty and rich, and she figured that was enough. She rarely put much effort into anything other than her hair, makeup, and wardrobe. Oh, and guys, of course—she was always turning up with a new date on her arm, not to mention flirting her head off with Ned every chance she got.
    “Didn’t Deirdre play the flute in elementary school?” Bess said.
    “Yes,” I recalled. “For about ten seconds!”
    As my friends continued to joke around at Deirdre’s expense, I returned my attention to the computer screen. Simmons, L. I stared at the name thoughtfully, remembering how strongly Dad had reacted to my mention of Leslie’s name.
    “Hey, George,” I said, interrupting whatever she was saying to Bess. “Can you check out one more site?”
    “Sure. What?”
    “River Heights High School,” I said. “I want to see if we can find out anything more about Leslie Simmons.”
    Bess cocked her head at me as George went to work. “Why?” she asked. “Even if she has somethingto do with this so-called mystery, what’s the high school home page going to tell you? It’s summer, remember? School’s out.”
    George glanced up at her as the home page loaded. “Yeah, but the school bulletin board is still active all summer,” she reminded Bess. “A lot of kids keep in touch that way, remember?”
    Bess wrinkled her nose. She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Yeah, the geeks, maybe.”
    I swallowed a laugh as George shot her cousin a dirty look. Then I leaned over and pointed to a link. “Look, there’s the bulletin board,” I said. “Let’s see if Leslie has checked in lately.”
    It turned out that she had—quite a lot, actually. There were all kinds of entries from her. Some were just chitchat, while others had to do with her music studies.
    “Look, she’s been going to music camp over at the university’s performing arts building,” Bess said, pointing to one entry.
    George nodded. “I knew that already,” she said. “My mom wants to go to their recital—I think it’s this week. She loves to hear Leslie Simmons play.”
    “Interesting,” I said. “And look, here’s something even more interesting. Leslie’s most recent bulletinboard entry was at two thirty-eight P.M. on Saturday—two days ago. There’s nothing since then, even though she was posting several times per day up until then.”
    George shrugged. “So?” she said. “She’s got a big week coming up—first the recital, then the audition on Thursday. She’s probably