“That’s right. It was… what was it she called herself? Cathy… Cathy P-something. Cathy Pierce?” She tapped a pointer against her chin. “No, that’s not it.” She searched the table as if the name was waiting there for her. “Peabody,” she finally said, snapping a finger. “That’s right. Cathy Peabody won that year, but then she disappeared the next morning.”
Peabody. That was the name in the ledger, a line item going back years in the Rose Palace accounts.
“Anyhoo, judging is fairly easy. We watch and listen in the days leading up to the show and then tally scores on the big day.” Miss 1962 licked her lips before clearing her throat. “Though this year, two of us know what the hell we’re doing, and one of us is only here to drum up business. As per usual.” She gestured pointedly to the right, where Dr. Bellingham sat sketching a new face on a napkin for a contestant. The girl was beaming as if she couldn’t wait for him to get his scalpel in her.
“It must be such a difficult decision with so many great contestants.” Jemma kept her focus on Miss 1962, pushed back her shoulders, and put on a smile as she tried to change the subject. She was a pro, I’d give her that much. “I’m just so glad that I can be here for Dakota while her aunt’s in jail.”
Miss 1962 tilted her head. “I suppose DeeDee did it to herself, getting on the bad side of you-know-who.”
I was surprised by the statement. “Wait… who do you mean? Dr. Bellingham?”
“I’m not saying a word,” Doris said as the bell rang, forcing Miss 1962 back to her shaky feet and to her next table. I caught a glimpse of her scorecard and was shocked to see that I hadreceived all five of the conversation points, while Jemma had four and Summer had only one.
“That was good,” Jemma said, offering the two of us a rare genuine smile. Maybe working together on a common goal was releasing some of her angst. “Just two more to go.”
We sat through three rounds without a judge, and Jemma turned to me and fixed a misplaced strand of my hair. At first I thought she was going to pull it out of my head, but she laughed softly. “I’m not that bad,” she smirked.
Both of us watched Summer re-adjust the neckline of her dress a number of times, and beat a tune on the table with her fingertips.
At last our second judge, Ms. Katie Gilman, strode to our table. “Oh my word, I keep thinking about you,” she said to me as she tucked her ample frame into the chair. Katie’s hands fluttered in front of her as she seemingly remembered the events of the previous evening. “Poor Mr. Finch gone missing, and our very own Deanna Green led away in handcuffs. You know you can count on me as a character witness. Your aunt and I—we go way back. Even before I started selling her pieces at my store, we were friends.”
“I appreciate that,” I told her.
“Your aunt is a great pageant MC,” Jemma admitted. Then she began talking about how many years she’d competed, about how proud her family was, about how close she felt to each of us. The minutes passed quickly as she rambled on, and Katie listened politely until the two-minute warning bell rang, and I jumped in.
“I’m sorry for interrupting, but…” I struggled to determine the most pressing question. I needed to know things about the Finches: what had happened to Miss 2001 and what Miss 1962 had meant when she’d said that my aunt was on someone’s bad side. I inched closer to Katie Gilman. “I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering how well you know Dr. Bellingham.” It wasn’t exactly the question I wanted answered, but I hoped she would volunteer even a speck of information like Miss 1962 had done. The universe was pointing me toward him, and I wanted to ensure I heard correctly.
“Jim, oh… I’ve known him… gosh, forever.” Katie looked around the solarium. “Mostly harmless, but just… watch yourself around him. If he’s not trying to sell you on a ‘beauty-enhancing procedure’ he may be trying to woo you—or worse.”
The bell rang a final time as she said the last two words. I wanted to stop her, to call her back, but Dr. Bellingham was approaching our table.
He gave Jemma a quick rub on the shoulder, and she flinched ever so slightly. I was grateful again for her intervention with him last night, even if she had been selfishly motivated, at least in part.
“I know you,” he said to Jemma with an affectionate grin. “Did you have time to think about the Botox we discussed? Actresses need to keep their youthful vigor for as long as possible.”
Jemma nudged away his hand and put on a smile. “I can’t wait to visit your office in New York to get started.”
I hoped she was lying.
Dr. Bellingham sat and rested his hands on the table. I noticed something strange on his pinky finger. A faint white line.
“Do you wear a ring?” I asked as Jemma and Summer both listened, their faces briefly showing their puzzlement at my train of thought.
“Not married, as you can see,” he said, wiggling his fingers in front of me. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he answered. “But, yes, I left my judge’s ring back in my room in my hurry to get out here with all of you beautiful girls.”
Gross. But… a judge’s ring?
I thought about last night, about what Katie and I had discovered in Aunt DeeDee’s drawer. I’d assumed that the ring we’d found belonged to Mr. Finch, but what if it was Dr. Bellingham’s? The two men were buddies, and he was a long-time friend of the pageant.
“Fred gave it to me as a memento for my years of service here.” He studied me and then reached out to touch the bridge of my nose before I could pull away. “I could fix that bump with a very simple procedure…”
I dodged him with my wit. “And here I thought my cheekbones would compensate for my bumpy nose.”
Dr. Bellingham studied me. “You do have a remarkable bone structure.”
