The three of us women sat quietly, not knowing how to proceed. Even Jemma seemed at a loss.
“Right-o!” Dr. Bellingham took a deep breath and changed the subject. “So, I’d love to hear anything and everything you girls want to share. Your deepest, darkest secrets…” He looked at us with a playful gleam in his eye. “Or your naughtiest fantasies.”
Jemma was the only one of the three of us able to act like he was winning her over. She launched into her childhood pageant days and teen years before going into detail about this year’s show schedule, about how we would all have to undress from our opening costumes in a matter of minutes, how she would need to crawl into her red bikini. She gave him a lot to imagine as Summer and I squirmed uncomfortably.
“I might vacate my judge’s seat and join you all backstage.” He was titillated. “Don’t tempt me.”
Bile rose as I marveled that this man could get away with such comments in this day and age. Summer and I had nothing to contribute to this conversation, and when the bell rang, the two of us scooted as far away from the man as humanly possible.
He reached out a palm to shake my hand, and when I reluctantly took it, he covered it with his other. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, his breath damp. “I wanted to say… I’m so very sorry your aunt has gotten herself caught up in this mess. It really is unfortunate.”
My jaw clenched as I backed away to study his face, to see if his word choice matched his expression.Has gotten herself caught up?What did that mean? Was he blaming Aunt DeeDee for putting herself in jail?
He was at the next table so quickly that I didn’t get to ask him. Instead, I turned to Jemma. “What was that?”
“What?”
“Describing us changing backstage. It was gross.”
“I was doing the job. He gave all three of us the full five points.”
That did not justify the conversation in my mind.
“Don’t you need the money?” Jemma asked, and both Summer and I slumped into our seats because, deep down, we knew she’d done what she thought was necessary. This pageant world was so strange, but also like a mirror to the world in which women found themselves every day.
I studied Jemma more closely and noted the fatigue behind the makeup. She’d been at this for years, and had her own reasons to win.
I couldn’t dwell too long on justifying Jemma’s behavior because just then Savilla Finch ran into the solarium, her eyes wide with concern. She was breathtaking, far more beautiful than any woman in this sunlit room, in a silky ivory halter dress and champagne pumps with an open toe, the soles of which were muddy, marring an otherwise perfect picture of femininity.
Savilla, clenching and unclenching her fingers, searched the room before hurrying to my side. Everyone turned to watch,likely wondering what she could possibly want with someone like me.
In that moment I realized that I was probably the closest friend Savilla had at the pageant.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I… I need you to come with me.” Savilla’s words were tremulous and uncertain. “It’s StepMommy. She’s…” Savilla paused and sniffled. “She won’t wake up.”
NINETEEN
Jemma and Summer didn’t hesitate, nor did they ask whether or not they should follow me and Savilla on the same path I’d taken the day before to the Finch apartment, the walls around us turning from tasteful modernity to ornate gaudiness in a matter of steps.
As the four of us entered the long hallway to the Tickled Pink Apartment we stopped in our tracks. Two medics, one on each side of a gurney, wheeled an unconscious Mrs. Finch toward us, an oxygen mask over her mouth.
“Oh my God,” Savilla said. “She was breathing… she just wouldn’t…”
“She seems stable,” the medic reassured her. I recognized him as a fellow student who’d graduated a few years ahead of us, and I wondered if he’d worked at the hospital with Momma. There was no time to ask. “The oxygen is a precaution. We’ll take care of her, Miss Finch.”
“Can… can I come with her?” Savilla asked, her voice shaky.
“You can follow us there in your own car.”
Summer raised a hand. “I have a rental. I’ll drive you.”
Savilla looked to me. “Will you be okay? I think the sheriff will be at the apartment any minute.”
That must’ve been why Sheriff Strong had been hurried earlier this morning. A pang of guilt rushed through me.
I could see Savilla trying to keep her emotions under control. First her father. Now her stepmother… I also sensed not only the concern for her parents but a deeper fear: a fear that she might be next.
“You go,” Jemma told Savilla and Summer. “I’ll stay with Dakota.”
