I turned to take a closer look at the elderly woman as she theorized. Her blue hair had been cut close to her eyebrows andthe edges of her mouth. “I know that Mr. Finch isn’t typically a lush, but I’ve seen him imbibe a time or two, and those stairs are no joke for folks of our generation. Perhaps he poured himself a drink and got stuck down there. I’m not saying it’s happened to me, but I’m also not saying ithasn’thappened.”
“Yes, Doris. We’ve done our due diligence,” Mrs. Finch said vaguely as she continued to oscillate between leaning on my arm and Summer’s shoulder, even though, as far as I could tell, nothing was actually wrong with her own two legs.
“Regardless, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry your head about. He’s bound to show up and surprise us all—a little pre-pageant fun,” Miss 1962 continued as we reached the door to what I took to be the Finch apartment. “Maybe he’s taking time to prepare a grand speech for the hundredth year. You know how he loves attention. He’ll be delighted to get us all worried for nothing.”
As Miss 1962 chattered on, I gave Mrs. Finch back to the care of Savilla, let the others step inside, and excused myself for a brief moment to text Lacy.
Can you come to the residential wing? We’re somewhere in the third-floor hall. Near the Finch apartments
Can’t come now—with security, organizing search and then need to check on setup in the decades tents, sorry!
When I looked up, Summer was in the hallway, watching me. “Who are you texting?” Her words sounded inquisitive rather than accusatory.
“Um… Lacy.”
Summer studied me before glancing from side to side to ensure no one could overhear. “Do you think your aunt had something to do with… with Mr. Finch… with that note he left?”
I found myself appraising her tone and, instead of answering her question, I asked my own. “This is your third year competing now, right?”
Summer nodded.
“Do you know who might have access to every part of the estate?”
“With it being pageant week, I’d assume security staff and housekeeping.” She considered. “But if you mean the entire estate, I guess that would be Mr. and Mrs. Finch, Savilla… DeeDee…” She scrunched her face in a way that let me know she was sorry to have to mention my aunt again.
I lowered my voice and moved toward Summer, encroaching on her personal space. “Listen, I know Aunt DeeDee had nothing to do with whatever’s happened to Mr. Finch… but to confirm that, I need to take a quick peek in her room and I’d rather not go alone.”
“Oh… well. Earlier when I said I would help you, I meant with makeup or… um… how to talk without being so nasally.”
I furrowed my brow. I did not need pageant tips at this moment.
“I’m not sure if I should…” Summer trailed off, obviously torn.
Before she could answer, Miss 1962 appeared, peering around the doorway and calling out in a voice far too loud for her eighty-odd years, “THEY’RE IN THE HALL!” Then, she stomped back into the apartment.
The other judge, Katie Gilman, opened the door wider, her eyes darting from Summer to myself. “Are you two all right?”
“We’re fine,” I said.
Summer took two steps toward Katie. “Ms. Gilman, Dakota needs to get a couple of personal effects for her aunt to have in jail.”
Okay, I was impressed. I loved Summer and her ability to lie when the moment required.
Katie narrowed her eyes. “What kind of personal effects?”
“Her makeup”—Summer was thinking on her feet—“and her wig.”
I widened my eyes. Did my aunt even have a wig? I had no idea, but I didn’t want to spoil whatever Summer was attempting to accomplish here.
“If she could just have five minutes in her room? To gather her… supplies?” Summer’s voice was gaining authority. “You know what it’s like without one’s… one’s creature comforts. Her eye mask, her powder, her perfume… It could make a world of difference for DeeDee.”
I nearly balked at the fact that Summer was right: This was the exact list my aunt would likely request—minus perhaps the wig. I kept my thoughts hidden as best as I could.
Katie seemed to vacillate for a few seconds before she responded. “Give me a minute.” When she re-emerged, she held a key card. “I need to bring this right back to Savilla, and I’m coming with both of you.”
“I don’t know which room she’s staying in,” I admitted.
Katie waved a hand as if it was no matter and led the way to the stairs and up one more floor. “Deanna is always in the same room, the one right next to mine. It’s tradition.”
