Leave Tomorrow Behind (Stella Crown Series) (20 page)

“Excuse me,” I said, wrapping my hand around Nick’s arm. “But he needs a minute.” The pushy lady had given me an idea. I pulled him into the aisle, away from the woman’s ears. “You want to help me with something?”

“Sure. What can I do?”

I smiled and patted his rump. “Just be your gorgeous self, Babe. I want you at your most distracting.”

He glanced down at his jeans and T-shirt. “Not exactly model material.”

“Monster Mom thought you were. And I’m sure the lovely up-and-coming Valerie Springfield will think the same. Miranda? Hey.”

She dragged her eyes from the stage, where pedestals were being lined up, for the finalists, I presumed. “What?”

“Can we get your help?”

She sighed. “As long as I don’t have to leave.”

“Nope. In fact you can sit right there.”

“Okay. I guess. What do you want me to do?”

Chapter Thirty-four

“Pardon me.” Nick approached Valerie while I scooted around behind her. I could tell the instant she saw him, because her posture became suddenly straighter. It was like attraction vibes were going off like fireworks. Or bombs.

“Hi,” she said. I guess even up-and-coming stars get speechless when faced with utter perfection.

He smiled, which wasn’t exactly fair, putting that much wattage into it. “Hi. My name’s Nick. I was wondering…my sister’s a fan. Would you be willing to come say hello? She’s kind of shy, and I can’t convince her to come over and talk to you herself.”

I know, it was a stretch. But why else would Miranda not have come along with her brother?

“I’d be happy to.” Valerie oozed up from her seat—Nick had the jelly-legs effect—and took his arm. I didn’t attack her, for the good of the cause.

Nick glanced back at me as they left, and I eased over to the table and slid her phone right off, into my hand. No one noticed. I hid myself in the corner, my back to the room, and touched the phone’s screen. The phone hadn’t gone back to sleep yet, so I was able to get right to the icons without inputting a password, which was a huge relief. I would have been totally screwed if I’d had to deal with that. But the icons. Holy crap, there were so many of them. What they all meant was a mystery. My phone is as basic as they come, no touch screen or fancy apps, so I had no idea which picture to push. I tried several before touching what should have been the obvious envelope icon, which I only then noticed, and the recent texts lined up on the screen. There had been several in the past few minutes—ah, the thrilling life of a young person—but Gregg’s wasn’t there, at least not by name. I scanned the list: Ashley, Marco, Mom, Sunny, Silver, Bee, and the list went on. Had she already erased it?

I looked at the first text, which was a mishmash of misspelled words and punctuation. I wasn’t even sure what it meant. This Ashley person had to be one of her friends. Marco’s text was a plea to meet him that night at a club called the Roxxy, which I recognized as the name of a Philadelphia dance club I wouldn’t be caught dead in. Mom wanted to know if Valerie was coming home that weekend. Sunny said—Wait. Sunny. As in Sunburst Studios? I’d found him. The text, which had been sent four minutes earlier and completely fit our timeline, said simply, “Do your job.”

Her job? Other than being a country star? It seemed he’d stopped in at the pageant solely to give Valerie this message, because he hadn’t even stayed for the event itself. What was Valerie’s job? To rig the judging? To make sure a certain person won? Could she have that much sway, especially without making it completely obvious what she’d done?

The microphone squealed, and the emcee said, “If you could please find your seats, ladies and gentlemen.”

With a start, I realized Valerie would be coming back to the table. In fact, she already was back, and searching for her phone. Nick still stood next to her, watching me with wide eyes. Crap. I closed out the text screen, hoping she wouldn’t notice the phone had been used. I crept back toward her, the phone in my hand. The phone buzzing in my hand. Another text. I glanced at it, but the message was not from Sunny, so I didn’t bother reading it.

When I got close, Nick touched Valerie’s shoulder. She looked up at him, her concern over her phone vanishing for a moment as she gazed with adoration into his beautiful eyes, and I slid the phone back onto the table and walked away. Seconds after I returned to my seat, Nick was beside me.

“Too close,” he said.“You get what you need?”

“Did it work?” Miranda said, before I could respond.

“I got something. Not sure what it was.”

“Shh!” The lady in front of us turned around and glared.

“Sorry,” Nick said, and gave me a mock afraid face when she wasn’t looking.

Peppy music started, and the Lovely Miss contestants took their pre-arranged places on the risers, all looking young and energetic and unrealistically beautiful in their “casual dress,” which ranged from sundresses to designer jeans and frilly shirts to bermuda shorts and tank tops. Well, they all looked beautiful except Summer, who should have been in a freak show instead of with that group, with her tight and revealing off-the-shoulder translucent yellow shirt. If you could call it a shirt with that little material. I wasn’t sure whether to take cover, in case those silicone basketballs broke loose, or to shield Nick’s eyes with opaque safety goggles. No need for that, actually, since he was looking at his knees.

Taylor didn’t look like the rest of the others, either, most of whom wore more makeup than an international Cover Girl convention. Out of all of them, Taylor looked like a real, naturally attractive teenage girl. Which of course meant she wouldn’t win. Not if the rest of the lineup was any indication of what judges looked for. Unless…

What stake did Gregg have in this pageant? What was his connection, other than Rikki, and now Valerie? It would be Taylor. Or, if not her, Daniella. I had no way of knowing if anyone else had anything to do with him, or Sunburst Studios, or even his cheating cows. Not that the cows were cheating. I don’t think they were smart enough. Anyway, assuming Taylor was the connection here, what if Valerie’s “job” was to make sure she won? Or didn’t win?

I glanced over at Daniella, but there was no indication of whether or not she had a clue of a cheating conspiracy. It was hard to believe she did. She didn’t seem to have much invested in this pageant—other than the investment of raising a daughter—so I couldn’t imagine she would break rules to have Taylor win. She’d said the whole idea was Taylor’s, so she was supporting it for that reason only. But with mothers and daughters came loyalty, and that whole helicopter, hovering, want-my-child-to-be-happy thing. Lucy had somehow seemed to avoid that with Tess, so far, but I figured she was the exception. And look at Daniella. She was gorgeous. Nice. Perfect. Who did that? Nobody was like that for real.

Everything in the room went quiet as the emcee raised her hands. “Welcome again to our pageant. We are thrilled to introduce you to our contestants. Please make them feel welcome.”

One by one the girls said their name, school, age, parents’ names, and something they enjoyed. One girl liked horseback riding, another cooking, and yet another playing golf. I would have expected Summer to say she enjoyed cosmetic surgery, but she only admitted to “beach vacations.” Taylor said simply that she enjoyed spending time with friends. They stayed on their spots as they spoke, microphones picking up their voices from somewhere else, until all were introduced.

“Thank you, girls,” the emcee said. As if this were a cue—which it probably was—the girls filed off the stage and behind into a small room at the back.

The emcee smiled. “While the girls change into their formal wear, I would like to take this opportunity to thank our sponsors. She named several big name companies who donated money, none of which were Sunburst Studios. So that wasn’t the connection.

“And here they are again, after that quick change. Our Lovely Miss Pennsylvania contestants!”

The audience clapped as the girls came back onstage, this time to different spots and poses. I was about blinded by the colors and sparkles. Summer again defied tradition—and safety—with her skintight, silver tube of a dress. Taylor had chosen a much more tasteful dark green number, which fit her well, without being obnoxious.

The emcee called one of the girls forward, and the contestant stepped forward to answer an interview question. The process went down the line, each girl asked something different, and we heard all sorts of answers—most of which were fairly intelligent—until we got to Summer. She joined the emcee and batted those horrid tarantulas pasted on her eyes, and simpered and posed and generally scared the room. At least I was terrified. It was like she’d been taken over by some unknown entity and would soon explode into lots of little pieces, or else just eat us all.

“What is of daily importance to me, making my life worth living?” she said, repeating the emcee’s question. “Oh, so many things, it’s hard to choose. Helping the homeless, feeding the poor, working for world peace, finding homes for abandoned pets, how can I pick one?”

The emcee’s smile was like the barnyard in winter. “Try.”

Summer paused, as if thinking, then smiled, searing us with artificial brightness. “The most important thing in my daily life is my dog, Sally. She is so full of fluffiness and is about the happiest person I know. She likes other people, too, and is so nice to the kids who live next door. I just love her so much, and so I have to say she’s the best. So, so important to me.”

The room was so deadly silent, it was like we’d been hit with a stun bomb. The question came back to me—
Who got this girl/creature into this pageant, anyway?
Wasn’t there any kind of “normal” quota she had to pass first?

Eventually, the emcee regained consciousness and said, “Well, that’s interesting, Summer. Thank you for sharing.”

Summer blinked some more, causing shudders to reverberate around the fair, and shared another one of those hideous smiles. Somehow, no one fainted.

“You may take your place again, Summer,” the emcee said. “
Summer
.”

“Oh, sure! Bye!” She flounced back to her spot.

Next in line was a sweet girl from Lansdale, who spoke about the best book she ever read (
Pride and Prejudice
. Yawn. Everyone knew she had to read it for school) and finally it was Taylor’s turn. She was like a breath of country air, and not the kind after someone spread manure. She was fresh and smart and real.

“Hello, Taylor,” the emcee said. “Would you please describe for us an accomplishment of which you’re very proud?”

“Thank you, I would be pleased to talk about that.” She took a moment, and looked into the audience, ending at her mother and keeping her gaze there. “When I was nine years old, my father died. It was a very hard time for me, but also for my mom. She was suddenly a single mother, and besides the trauma of losing her husband, she was faced with how to survive financially. With the help of family—” she smiled at her Aunt Amy “—my mom went back to school, received her cosmetology degree, and got a job at Serenity Salon. She worked hard and now she is the manager. She has begun all kinds of programs and special events there, and she works hard to make health and beauty a possibility for all people, not just those with a lot of money. I’m very proud to call her my mom, and very proud of all she has accomplished.”

There was an awkward pause before a smattering of applause. Mothers of the other contestants glanced around at each other, like “What the heck was that?” and the other girls on stage seemed confused. It seemed nobody was used to someone talking about someone other than themselves. Nick and Miranda clapped hard, and Zach looked like…good grief, like a proud boyfriend. He’d known her two days. Daniella and Amy both had tears running down their cheeks, and Claire, well, she just looked sad. Perfect cousin strikes again.

I checked out the judges’ table. The tall lady and the guy were busy scribbling on their sheets. Valerie sat back in her seat, mouth partly open, eyes wide. After a few seconds her mouth snapped shut, and she smiled. After a glance at her judging partners, she began writing, too.

So, she was glad with Taylor’s performance. Interesting. I guess that meant her “job” might not be so hard, after all, if what she had to do was make sure Taylor won. Unless that selfless answer meant she wouldn’t win. I was so confused. But assuming Taylor had just scored well, that still left the question of “Why?” Why did Gregg want Taylor to win? Did he think it would give him an “in” with Daniella? And how would Mrs. Gregg feel about that? And what, if anything, did that have to do with Rikki’s death? Too many things to think about.

Another girl answered the emcee’s question, and then the interviews were over. Time for individual talent. The girls left the stage again, and after a short break, during which last year’s Lovely Miss PA winner talked about her “amazing” time as the winner, they came back one by one. We were subjected to bad karaoke, a decent flute performance, tap dancing, a recited Joan of Arc monologue, and—most disturbingly—Summer’s baton routine. Batons in themselves aren’t disturbing, of course, but when they’re in constant danger of being snagged on elephant boobs, it’s a bit distracting. Finally, we got to Taylor’s talent, which, as her mother had described before, was a lovely sign language performance, set to a song describing how we need to look outside ourselves and see the greater good. Again, the other mothers seemed a bit confused by the whole “talent with meaning” thing, and Valerie Springfield looked smug, while the guy judge clapped and the tall lady nodded.

Hmm. Maybe good girls do win once in a while.

After all of the contestants had demonstrated their talent, the emcee took her spot up front. “The judges need just a few minutes to confer, ladies and gentlemen, and then we will be thrilled to announce our finalists, and this county’s Lovely Miss Pennsylvania representative!”