Leave Tomorrow Behind (Stella Crown Series) (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-one

I didn’t get a whole night’s sleep, but what I got was heavy, so I felt pretty good when I woke up at five-thirty to milk the herd. The smells, the sounds, the feel of their leathery udders, all of it reminded me what was important in my life, what was real. The dust sent up from the grain, the scrape of my boots, the sight of contented cows chewing their cuds, it was all good. And thanks to my generous fiancé, I didn’t have to worry about losing it anytime soon.

Once milking was done, but before I let the cows loose, I took a moment to wrap my arms around Tinkerbell’s neck and breathe in her oily, musky scent. She turned her huge head toward me, and I nuzzled her. Life was sweet.

“Miss us?” Lucy stood in the aisle, smiling.

“Don’t get any ideas, Luce. I’m not going to hug you, too.”

She laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I gave Tinkerbell a pat and walked around to unhook the girls from their chains. Lucy took the other side. I spoke over the sounds of departing cows. “You’re early today.”

“Wasn’t sure how things turned out for you last night, or how late you got home. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

She was quiet for a few seconds. “Want to tell me about it?”

No question. “Yes.”

So while we scraped the stalls, limed the walkways, and got the place ready for evening milking, I went over everything that had happened since I’d seen her the morning before. There had been no time to talk at the parade, and it felt good to put some order to it all. I told her about Watts accusing Carla of having something to do with Rikki Raines’ death, the anonymous theory about what might have killed her, and how the official results weren’t even back yet. I talked about Miranda, and how I didn’t think I could survive a lifetime of having her as a sister-in-law. I even told her about Austin, and how guilty I felt for not turning him in.

“He’s a kid,” Lucy said, when we’d finished, and were sitting on some straw bales, drinking some water. “He made a mistake.”

“A criminal one.”

“Yeah. But you do believe him, right? That he wouldn’t harm any more animals? That he didn’t do the Greggs’ dairy cows?”

“I do. But still—”

“You made the decision, Stella. You need to stand by it, or go to the authorities today, no matter the consequences. I guess you need to decide which way you can live with it.”

I wiped my forehead, already sweating at eight o’clock in the morning. “I know. I don’t want to destroy his future. And I really don’t think he’ll do anything that stupid again.”

“Then let it go. You’ve got other things to worry about.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Sure thing. What are your plans for today?”

“Stay here till after lunch. Then I want to go in for dairy judging. Claire Kaufmann’s cow is gorgeous, and I want to see how she does. If I had to guess, she’s got judging wrapped up now that the Greggs’ cows are out of the running.”

Oh, God. She wouldn’t have done anything to those cows, would she? Not Claire.
I thought back to the night before. Had she been in the crowd of people in the barn? I couldn’t remember seeing her, or Bobby, or even their mom. But then, she wouldn’t want to be hanging around looking guilty, would she, if she’d done anything? And I’d been preoccupied. I might not have noticed her presence.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy said. “You look like you just swallowed a frog.”

I told her my worries.

Lucy frowned. “Now you’re just seeing conspiracies.”

“If Austin could do it…”

“It doesn’t mean that another good kid would stoop to the same thing. Or a worse thing. And Claire is a good kid, right?”

“The best. But then, I thought Austin was, too.”

Lucy shook her head, and got up. “You’re here for the morning?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Then come on, I’ve got some two-person jobs you can help with. You need to get your mind off all this stuff for awhile, and rejoin us normal people.”

So for the next several hours Lucy and I made repairs, went over inventory, trimmed some hooves, and basically worked side-by-side. And I was happy. Or at least content.

Queenie was part of the morning, too, and I made a fuss over her, feeling guilty at how absent I’d been the past two days.

“She doesn’t hold it against you,” Lucy assured me. “It’s been so hot she’s just been shacked up in the barn, panting a lot.”

I knew she was right. But I felt bad, anyway.

At noon we left Queenie in her shaded nest, and joined Nick and Miranda for an Italian hoagie lunch. Then, unfortunately, it was time to head back to the fair.

Chapter Thirty-two

The closer we got to the fairgrounds, the more my anxiety came back about whether Claire had been the one to poison the Greggs’ cows. Would she really go to such lengths, in order for her animal to come out as the champion? I didn’t know. And I hated even thinking about it.

Miranda had tagged along again, claiming to want to “get to know you better,” but I really think she wanted to make sure Nick wouldn’t commit any more money to me or my farm. Because Miranda just didn’t like me enough for anything else. She sat in the back seat, texting away—to how many people, I had no idea. The way she was going, she might have been texting her entire town. Or state.

We got to the arena in time to have our pick of seats. Claire and Bobby’s mom were already there, sitting with Daniella, who I remembered was her sister. Amy’s stiff posture spoke of nerves. I knew from talking to her before how high her hopes were that Claire would do well. Bobby’s cow was okay, too, but not of champion quality. Not like Breezy.

Zach and his posse were sitting in the front row of the bleachers. Taylor had the seat right beside him, of course. At least she wasn’t sitting in his lap, like the Gregg girl had been doing with that guy yesterday. Taylor talked to the other kids, as well as Zach, and smiled, and laughed, and Zach gazed at her like an adoring, half-brained puppy.

A voice came over the microphone announcing the start of the dairy judging, and my stomach turned flips.
What would I do if Claire won? Would I confront her about her possible crime? Let it go? Ask her mom? Pretend it never happened?

Nick bumped my shoulder with his. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, not wanting to voice my fears. I’d hoped the Guernsey class would go first, to get it over with, but the Holsteins were at the top of the line. Then the Ayrshires. And finally the Guernseys. I gripped my seat, holding my breath as the kids walked their cows in and around. There was no contest. I mean, sure, there were some other nice animals, but Claire’s September Breeze was far and away the nicest. Her color, her frame, her udder…you couldn’t ask for a better example of perfection. Not unless you had the Greggs’ cows in the ring with her.

The judge didn’t take long to pronounce the winners, and Claire walked off with the champion ribbon, leaving me with questions and an acidic stomach. I slid off the bleachers.

Nick’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t want to stay for the rest?”

“Something I need to do. I’ll be back.”

Miranda stood up. “I don’t want to stay.”

I caught Nick’s eye, pleading with him to keep her with him.

“Miranda and I will meet you after you’re done. How about in the rabbit building?”

Miranda clapped. “I can see my bunny again?”

I left them, and made my way to the dairy barn. I was waiting at Claire’s stall when she arrived almost a half hour later. Her usually open, pleasant face—except for when she was fighting jealousy over her cousin’s hold on Zach—was closed down. Angry.

“Posing for pictures of the champion?” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “Like it means anything. Or these do.” She threw her champion banner and ribbon onto her storage box.

“They don’t? I can think of a lot of people who would love to have them. Including your brother.”

She snorted. “Like Bobby’s cow could beat Breezy.” She got Breezy settled in the stall and slammed the door. “The two cows—count ’em, two—who could have challenged Breezy, and they’re out of the competition. I mean, I hate those Gregg girls and their stupid champions, but seriously, I wanted to beat them. Not win by default because some stupid person poisoned their cows.”

Something deep inside me relaxed at her words, and I suddenly couldn’t believe I’d ever thought she could harm the Greggs’ cows. “Hey, it still means something. She’s gorgeous, and perfect. She would’ve beat them.”

“Yeah, well, now we’ll never know.”

“You’ll go on to State, right? You’ll face some good competition there.”

“I guess.” She patted Breezy’s neck. “You’re a good girl. None of it is your fault. I’m not mad at you.”

“She is a good girl,” I said, “and not just because she has good genes. You’ve put a lot of work into raising her. It shows. It matters.”

She leaned her forehead on Breezy’s. “Does it?”

“You know it does. Don’t trash this accomplishment. I mean it.”

She turned her face, so her cheek rested on Breezy’s head. “I sound like a jerk, don’t I?”

I smiled. “I wasn’t going to say it in those words. But, yeah.”

Amy ran up and grabbed Claire in a huge hug. “I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you!”

“It wasn’t—” Claire’s eyes flicked up to mine, and she gave a little smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

Daniella came next, moving at a more dignified pace, as befitted her gorgeousness, and offered Claire a hug, as well. Claire took it with good grace.

“Taylor wanted me to pass on her congratulations,” Daniella said. “She’ll tell you herself, later.”

I looked around, spotting Zach and Bobby at the end of the aisle, making their way toward us, sans Taylor. “Where is she? I saw her at the arena.”

“The Lovely Miss pageant is today.”

Oh, crap. I’d forgotten all about it. I tried to look non-committal and bland, so no one would ask if I was going.

“She stayed until Claire won,” Daniella continue, “then ran to get ready. She held out as long as she could. I hope she made it on time, but she wanted to be there to see her cousin win.”

Claire considered this, then shrugged. “That was nice.”

Amy checked her watch. “The pageant is in about an hour. You’re going, right?”

For a horrible second, I thought she was talking to me, then realized she was asking her daughter. I inched away, finally far enough from the others that I turned and ran.

That had been too close.

Way, way too close.

Chapter Thirty-three

“It’s not fair,” Miranda said. “All week we’ve been doing everything you want to do, and nothing I want to do.”

“Then why didn’t you want to just stay home? I could’ve gladly done that, and then we both would’ve been happy.”

She glowered at me.

“It can’t be that bad,” Nick said. “Can it? How bad can a pageant for teenagers be?”

“Nick, Summer is going to be there.”

He winced. “Right.”

“You two are the biggest babies,” Miranda said. “You can’t spend an hour or two supporting Taylor and Daniella, and all of the other accomplished young women, because you’re afraid of one teenage girl?”

“She’s half silicone,” I said.

“And the other half, air,” Nick added.

“With a smidge of chemicals in places I don’t want to think about.”

“So?” Miranda frowned. “It’s not like she’s a killer robot or anything.”

Nick made a face. “Are you sure? I think she’s a Stepford daughter. Except scarier.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled. “We. Are. Going. I promised Daniella.”

He looked back at me pleadingly. “You’re not letting her kidnap me?”

I wanted to. I was chicken that way.

“He’ll be surrounded by beautiful young women,” Miranda said. “You want to risk that?”

“They’re just girls,” I reminded her.

“But their mothers aren’t. And they’re also…beautiful.”

That was stretching it. Summer’s mom was certainly not in that category. I would assume most of the other pageant moms were all about artificial enhancement, as well. But Taylor’s mother, well, she
was
the category if you were talking about beautiful and nice and perfect. And who knew how many others of those there might be?

“Fine. I’ll go, just to protect Nick’s honor. But I’m not going to watch.”

Miranda smiled and strode ahead.

“My honor?” Nick said.

“Sorry. It was the first thing that came to mind.”

“I’m not sorry. I’d like to see you protect my honor. Could be entertaining.”

I slugged his shoulder, and we trudged after Miranda.

The pageant was being held on the smaller stage rather than the main grandstand. I guess they weren’t expecting a huge crowd, especially since they were competing against the lawn-mower race, and, well, you can imagine how popular that would be. We got seats about halfway back, on the aisle, which was great, so I could make a run for it, if I had to. The stage was set up with deep red curtains, and a huge chandelier hung from the rafters. I hoped it was fake, because if it was really made of glass and fell, it would kill whoever it landed on.

Daniella was already there, seated in the second row with Amy, Claire—who made no secret that she’d rather be anywhere else, Bobby, Randy, and, of course, Zach. That poor guy had been kicked so hard by Cupid, his ass was going to be one gigantic bruise when he fell back to Earth. Or, wait. Cupid shoots people, right? Whatever. Daniella saw us arrive and waved. Miranda about fell over returning the greeting, so I kept my response minimal.

“You sure they’re sisters?” Nick murmured.

I could see his confusion. Where Daniella was fashionable, classy, and perfect, Amy was merely…sweet. Amy looked absolutely fine, of course, but Daniella, next to her sister, was like a full-fledged chocolate-fudge milk shake compared to a non-fat, lactose-free, vanilla smoothie. Edible, but not something you’d walk a hot mile for. I would have felt sorry for Amy, but she didn’t look like she did. She was smiling and laughing and sharing secrets with Daniella. A farmer comfortable in her own skin, rather than pining after her sister’s. I liked that.

All around us were more people who seemed like they belonged there, rather than in the dairy barn. Parents of the contestants. Sponsors. Lots of people in clothes too clean to have been worn around the fair. Who knew if they’d even been on any other part of the grounds, or if they’d shot in solely for this one event? I couldn’t exactly see women in tight, shiny dresses and high heels taking advantage of the pony rides. Or daring to eat something that might have a fraction of grease involved.

My eyes snagged on Summer’s mom, and I whipped my head back around so fast I about gave myself whiplash.

Nick followed my line of sight. “Ah. The lovely Ms. Moss.”

“Sherry,” I reminded him. “She wants you to call her by her first name because you’re so close.”

I took a chance and looked again. Today Sherry wore a dress that should have been on an eighteen-year-old—if anyone—and her hair looked freshly colored, now so bright it was a toss-up whether it was supposed to be blond or that white old people grow into if they’re lucky. Her lipstick was at war with the hair in the brightness contest, and I averted my gaze before my retinas went bad.

“Know who took Rikki’s place?” Nick indicated the young woman at what I presumed was the judge’s table.

“No idea.” She looked the part, though. Gorgeous. Young. Fashionable. All smiles.

Beside her were two other judges, one a tall, black-haired woman with skin so pale I thought maybe someone had drained her blood without telling her. The other was a man, African-American, gorgeous in that way Lenny Kravitz was in the
Hunger
Games
movies. Almost unreal. In a sparkly way.

Music began playing, the crowd hushed, and yet another well put together woman strode onto the stage. She wore a shiny black dress, off the shoulder, ending just above her knee. Wait…was she competing? She looked a little old.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Miranda exhaled.

Yup. It was official. I really didn’t belong in that crowd.

“Welcome to today’s pageant, ladies and gentlemen,” the woman said, revealing two rows of impossibly perfect teeth. “My name is Madison Wilkins, from the local NBC affiliate, and I am honored to be with you all for this very exciting day.”

Polite applause. I checked around the room and discovered a cameraman in the back corner.

“We’ve all been waiting for this event for a long time. Today will decide which young woman will have the amazing opportunity to represent this county in the Lovely Miss Pennsylvania pageant, spreading her goodwill and virtue throughout our glorious state. What an honor. What an experience.”

What a load of crap.

“Before we get to our main event—”

Uh-oh.

“—I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of those who have given so much of their time in support of this wonderful organization. But especially I would like to recognize our judges, who by the end of the summer will have spent at least fifteen days judging the contestants in our region, and who will move on to judge at the final event. Mr. Terence Williams, CEO of TW Designs, stand, please, will you Terence?”

The audience clapped politely.

“Mrs. Bridget Trapp, former Lovely Miss Pennsylvania.”

The tall, deathly pale woman rose, and the audience clapped some more.

“And, finally, our newest judge, Valerie Springfield, who was kind enough to step up to fill dear Rikki Raines’ shoes. Valerie is another up-and-coming vocal artist from Lancaster, and we are so glad she can be here with us.”

An awkward silence, followed by even more awkward applause.

Valerie Springfield? Wait. Austin had told me about her. She was the one who had been in the papers as having a war with Rikki over some actor. The war that had ultimately convinced Rikki to keep her relationship with Austin a secret. She allegedly also thought Rikki was keeping her from becoming a star. Can you say, “motivation for murder”?

“Of course we are so sad to be missing our friend and sweet judge, Rikki Raines,” the emcee continued, “and we pray that her killer will be brought to justice in record time. Let us please observe a moment of silence in honor of our fallen friend.”

A deathly quiet, during which only two children screamed or said, “What’s happening, Mommy?” and “Pretty lights!”

“And now,” the woman said, “for a pre-pageant surprise! Please welcome the finalists of our region’s Junior Lovely Miss Pennsylvania pageant!”

Wild applause.

“Junior?” I choked.

“Sure,” Miranda said. “They’ll show off the younger girls first. It’ll be adorable.”

Ho. Ly. Crap.

A parade of little kids, all primped and dressed up and made up like they were twenty-five, trounced across the stage, singing and dancing and generally making me want to heave. What was wrong with parents who would do this to their children? They should be doing Tess-type things, wrestling with Queenie, playing with kittens, and running barefoot in the grass, with their hair in tangles. Not prancing around like little prom queens.

To keep myself sane, I glanced around the room. Lots of parents and grandparents, a few teens, organizers, and…Gregg. What was he doing here? He stood in the back, flanked by the same two goons I’d seen with him the other night, before Nick and I found Rikki. He was wearing his suit again, instead of the farmer clothes. His arms were crossed, and he was scowling. Until the emcee lady approached him. Then he was all smiles. They shook hands, and she gestured toward the judges’ table. Of course. Gregg had supplied Rikki’s replacement. The other “up-and-coming” vocal artist. I wondered just what she’d done to catch his eye, since according to Austin she recorded under a different label.

I took a better look at her. Valerie Springfield. Not as homegrown-looking as Rikki had been. Her face looked almost sculpted, with perfect skin that could only come from a bottle. Her clothes fit a little too snugly, and her eyes held a hard shine not present in Rikki Raines’ photos. She sat back in her chair, legs crossed, expression unreadable as she watched the eight-year-olds pretend they were more worldly than they were. Or, at least, than they should have been.

How much of a rival had she been for Rikki? Enough that she would kill Rikki to take her place? Not at the pageant, nobody cared that much about these things, did they? But at the record label. Or in the life of that zombie actor.

I glanced at Gregg again, hoping to get another clue from him. But he wasn’t paying attention to Valerie, or the goings-on up on the stage. Instead, when the emcee’s focus left him, his eyes darted around the room, until they landed on Daniella. She didn’t see him, or the way his eyes burned as they rested on her. I was glad Mrs. Gregg wasn’t there to see the display. His attention eventually shifted to the stage, and finally to the judge’s table, where he watched Valerie watching the girls.

The juniors finally finished with a group song and dance number, and the audience responded enthusiastically. Valerie responded by shifting in her seat and pulling out her phone. After viewing it, she glanced up and back, locking eyes with Gregg. He gave her a blank look, and she nodded, so subtly I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been watching so closely. She turned back toward the stage, gripping her pen so tightly I thought it might break and spurt ink all over her too-tight shirt.

“Wasn’t that lovely?” The emcee was back up on the stage. “Let’s have another round of applause for our region’s Junior Lovely Miss Pennsylvania finalists!”

Gregg took the opportunity to duck out of the building, which didn’t go unnoticed by Valerie. Her shoulders relaxed, and the pen became no longer in danger of its plastic life.

“We will take just a short break now to get ready for our Lovely Miss Pennsylvania pageant. Feel free to stand up and stretch, but don’t go far! Our distinguished young women will be ready for your attention in five minutes!”

The other two judges stood, and the tall woman strode away, while the man’s attention was captured by a round and well-dressed woman who shook his hand vigorously. Valerie stayed in her seat, her mouth tight as she doodled on a paper in front of her.

Her phone lay on the table. What had Gregg texted to her? Was he giving her judging instructions? How could I get a look?

A mother behind us tapped Nick on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but are you here as a scout? You just have to be in the modeling business.”

He smiled. “Thank you, but no, I’m just here for a friend.”

Her face fell. “You mean one of the girls?”

“Yes, ma’am. Is your daughter in the pageant?”

“Oh, yes, she is. You’ll see her. She’ll be the second one. But you won’t need me to tell you. She’s the prettiest, and her talent with the baton is simply amazing, so I hope you—”