“Where is DeeDee?” Lacy asked.
“No idea. I haven’t seen her since I got here.” I bit my lip. “I talked to her last night. Do you think she’s okay?”
Lacy’s eyes scanned the room. “She’s fine. She must be.”
“I’ll go and find out which room she’s in,” I offered.
Lacy checked the schedule. “No, don’t go. The judges are already watching from that corner.” She nodded to three peopleon the periphery of the room, one of whom was the elderly woman who’d been taking note of me. “I’ll ask someone on security detail to find her.”
“Okay…” I hesitated, torn between my role as a contestant and my concern for my aunt. “But let me know as soon as you hear anything.”
I told myself not to worry, but it wasn’t like her to disappear, especially not when ladies in poufy dresses needed her help. Not that we were poufed yet, but we would be soon enough.
Just then another man in uniform entered the door to the ballroom, and I froze for a second. He was one of the finest men I’d ever laid eyes on. He was solid without being entirely made of muscle, like a sexy, impenetrable wall. He had a cleft chin covered in day-old stubble, a uniform that hugged him in all the right places, and he’d nestled a hat beneath his arm. But it wasn’t just his appearance that drew my eyes. He had a quiet intensity about him, as if his real strength resided deep inside a place that he rarely revealed.
“We can ask the sheriff if he’s seen DeeDee,” Lacy said, pointing in the man’s direction.
I closed my lips and forced my eyes to the floor. I hadn’t had this kind of reaction to a man in…ever. I couldn’t start now.
“What?” Lacy noticed my weirdness. “Oh, so youdolike the look of him?”
I ignored her and forced myself to take the necessary steps toward him as if his presence didn’t bother me.
“Hi, hello, um, sir,” I started, almost tripping over those simple words. I swallowed and started again. “We’re… we are looking for the MC who’s supposed to be running this event. Her name is Deanna—DeeDee—Green. Have you or your… your officers spoken with her this evening?”
The man’s face barely moved as his eyes scanned the assembled crowd, practically ignoring my presence. “Quite the coincidence. I’m looking for the same person.”
The response was not what I’d expected. My mouth went dry, and Lacy had to step in front of me. “Why are you trying to find DeeDee?”
The man didn’t turn to either of us as he answered, “That information is classified.”
I decided to start again, putting on my brave face. “I’m Dakota Green.”
His eyes flickered to me, widening a fraction before he extended his hand.
I reached out to find a surprisingly soft one that swallowed mine. I thought of what Lacy always said:Soft hands, hard?—
“Charlie. Charlie Strong.”
“You are,” I breathed, before I could stop myself.
The faintest hint of a smile played about his lips. A tuft of hair emerged from the collar of his shirt in a David-Harbour-minus-the-mustache, aka Hopper ofStranger Things, kind of way. I’d always envisioned sheriffs as… well, old. If they were young, then they were trim, close-shaved men who wore polos and loafers when they were off duty.
One of his men approached and addressed him. “Fingerprinting is finished, sir. We got what we needed, including one witness who says she saw an older woman fleeing the scene at about the right time.”
At the officer’s words, a few disparate pieces fell into place. “Wait. Does Aunt DeeDee… Are you thinking that she has something to do with the missing crown?”
The sheriff looked at me—really looked at me—for the first time, and something sparked between us. It almost felt like attraction, but was more likely animosity.
“You might be able to answer that question better than I can,” he said.
I took a step forward, planning to say something super witty like,Now you wait a minute there, partner, when I tripped, stumbling into him chest-first.
Great, Mr. Sexy-Deep-Well-of-Emotion officially knew I was only a B cup.
He righted me, practically with his pinky, and I attempted to reclaim some of my dignity. “My aunt and I… we… neither of us would ever have anything to do with steal?—”
Lacy must’ve sensed that I was moving toward the shaky ground of suspicion if I hadn’t already reached that destination because she tugged at my arm. “Dakota is a contestant—only arrived around, what?” Lacy looked at me. “Four o’clock or so?”
