Lacy nodded and took another sip. “Yeah. He served from 1999 to 2001.” She seemed to catch the real question in my voice. “Is this about the crown they found in your aunt’s room? It belonged to Miss 2001, right?”
I nodded, adding, “I thought it was weird when I arrived today and Miss 2001’s cutout was the only one missing from the entryway.”
This surprised Jemma and Summer, who must not have noticed.
“Then, Aunt DeeDee is accused of stealing the crown just as Mr. Finch leaves a note mentioning Miss 2001,” I continued. “Ican’t quite put my finger on it, but if the last time Dr. Bellingham served as judge someone else went missing… I don’t know. Seems suspicious.”
“A missing pageant owner and a missing pageant queen are very different kinds of people,” Jemma pointed out. She might have been a bit rude, but she was savvy. “One holds all the power, and one holds none.”
This, I knew. Though Momma had given me the sex talk all the way back in second grade, right before my first high-school dance Aunt DeeDee had sat me down and explained to me in vague language the things that a man could force upon a woman if he so chose. All I remembered from the talk was that I’d wanted her to stop, but she’d insisted I needed to know the reality.I’ve seen too much, she’d said at least three times. I hadn’t thought of that moment in years, but now it rushed back at me.
What had my aunt seen in all of her years in this pageant? What had she personally experienced in her week-long stints here? It hadn’t been enough to drive her away, but it had certainly been enough for her to want to protect me.
I thought of her warning, of Mr. Finch and his odd little family, of my aunt in a jail cell, and of Miss 2001 disappearing more than two decades earlier. All of these details had to be pointing at something I just couldn’t yet see.
“Have you ever seen my aunt’s office?” I asked all of them.
Jemma shook her head, but Summer nodded eagerly, saying, “She let me hang out there last year after I messed up my song during the talent show dress rehearsals. I was blubbing like a baby, and she was so nice.” She drew out the wordsooooin a way that so fit her personality.
Lacy studied me. “What do you have in mind?”
I was embarrassed to admit that I had very little in mind. “I’m not sure.”
“I’d be surprised if it’s locked, but if so, my key might get us in. You want to check things out?” Lacy waved a hand in the general direction of the crowd. “I think we’ve made an appearance.”
I swallowed back one last sip of the Gem and Tonic and immediately regretted it.
“Let’s go then,” Lacy said, setting down both her glasses and leading us out of the party filled with living jewels.
Without being invited, Jemma, likely out of nosiness, and Summer, likely out of concern, readily followed in our wake.
SIXTEEN
The four of us were sneaking out of the party just as Savilla Finch was walking inside.
“Leaving so soon?” she asked, confronting us with a curious glance. Her face no longer sported the mask I’d last seen her wearing, and the rollers had made her hair spring to life. She held a scepter and was dressed as a beauty queen—crown and all—which would have seemed haughty except for the fact that she was merely an honorary contestant.
“Oh… um…” I struggled to find an excuse and realized I could ask a question instead. “Any news of your father?”
“No, nothing yet.” Savilla’s eyebrows turned down, and she watched me carefully. “Where are you going?”
“I need help with… waxing,” Summer said, creating another bulletproof excuse. “It’s so hard to find time during the school year and?—”
Lacy pretended to stifle a yawn, a move that I found unnecessarily dramatic. “Just a few more things to check before turning in for the night.”
Savilla studied us as if she couldn’t quite understand where we could possibly be running off to. “Whatever. Dakota, come with me so I can introduce you to Dr. Bellingham. I knowyou already met Doris”—by which she meant Miss 1962—“and Nanny Kate”— by which she meant Katie Gilman—“but you haven’t had a chance for an intergeneration with Daddy’s old friend.”
Intergeneration?I wasn’t even touching that one.And Daddy’s old friend, huh? I peered around the door at Dr. Bellingham, who was pinching a woman’s cheeks and raising them ever so slightly while the girl attempted to smile at him.
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“Oh, please, please, please, please,” Savilla urged, placing her hands together in the form of a prayer.
Jemma stepped forward. “I’ll talk to him,” she offered, surprising me with this act of self-sacrifice, before I realized that this was more likely an opportunity for her to get face time with one of the judges while other people were around. Jemma was a sly fox.
Savilla accepted Jemma as a conciliatory sacrifice for Dr. Bellingham and then bent forward to give me an air-kiss—because heaven forbid she smudge her makeup or my nonexistent concealer.
As I pulled back from her quick embrace, Savilla grabbed my arm and stopped me. “Thank you.”
