My stomach clenched. I was running out of last-minute options. “Are you sure? You couldn’t get Mahmoud to take him or something?”
“He’s working and I don’t have a choice. You know I wouldn’t do it if it weren’t an emergency. Wait, Magic, don’t come in the house!”
I heard her yell and the phone hit when she dropped it. Now we were short a judge. Lyn was going to have to take over that duty.
“What? Judge? I have a kid in the contest. I can’t do that.”
Damn, she was right. Mumsie would have to judge, unless I could talk Reneé into coming down. No, that wouldn’t work, she was catering a party. Lyn could emcee, and I’d corral the kids. She wasn’t any happier with that idea.
“SueAnn needs my help. I can’t be tied up in front when I need to be in the back. You can emcee.”
“I did that already and I have to show Mumsie all the judging criteria. It’s your turn to be in the spotlight. Enjoy. Come with me and I’ll give you all the cheat cards so you can introduce the girls and the acts. Be thankful this isn’t the Princess Contest with twice as many girls. Also, you won’t have to yell over carnival music when you talk.”
“All right, I’ll do it but you’d better watch out. You’ve been pushing it lately. I end up doing everything. It’s not fair. I have my own problems too. You’re not the only single mother around here.”
My head felt as if it were going to split in two. Lyn disappeared.
* * * *
When it was time for Lyn to start, I didn’t see her. More raised voices filtered from behind the stage and I went back.
Kimmie Baker and Lyn stood toe-to-toe. “You know you don’t want to disrespect your mother by performing this close to her death,” Lyn said. “Besides, you know you won’t be at your best. You don’t want to lose.”
“You don’t know anything about it. My mother wanted me to be in the contest and I’m going to be. I promised her, even when I was sick of doing the stupid song. You can’t stop me.”
Problem was, the expression on Lyn’s face made me think she might.
“Lyn. I’ve already said Kimmie was welcome to compete if she chose. I make that decision, not you.”
Kimmie tossed her head and flounced off to get ready.
Lyn’s face radiated hostility—eyebrows knitted together, a frown creasing her forehead. If she could have sent a flash of lightening at me from her eyes, she would have. “Well, Miss High and Mighty, you think you know everything. You don’t, and you’re messing with the wrong person.”
Lyn had been the picture of cooperation, all sweetness and light at first. What was going on? Was I suddenly that unreasonable to work with?
“It’s time for the entertainment to start. Go prod those potential stars. I’m going to make certain the judges have everything they need. Here are the note cards.”
Lyn leaned close and spoke in a soft voice. “The reason I don’t tell you where you can go, and what you can do with these cards, is because of the kids. I’ll do what you say for now. Don’t think I’ll ever work with you again.”
She clacked up the aisle toward the stage. I imagined sparks flying up from her heels as they pounded the floor. I forced my open mouth closed, crossed the auditorium, went up the stairs and backstage to talk to the judges. I didn’t have time for a new mystery, a stage mother tantrum or diva overtones. I had a show to keep organized, get through, and it would be all over by this evening. I concentrated on the tasks at hand: checking on the judges, finding out where the trophies were dumped and counting them.
Cherilyn was in place. The third judge, Missy Harrison, a former pageant winner herself, should be there shortly. She was a Laurel pick. The girls weren’t out for photo shoots with Cover Girl or scholarships, just a small statue and their picture in the local paper.
Missy arrived, dressed as if she were in the old series Dallas, shoulder pads, eighties hair, and all. She was one of the reasons Texas and big hair have become synonymous. I made certain all the judges had water, paper, pencils, score sheets, mints, and their little bag of goodies from local merchants.
Thank God. Someone had finally unloaded my car.
I pulled Mumsie aside to break the judging news to her, ignoring her arguments about not being a judge of teen talent and not wanting to get killed by militant moms.
I finally stopped to take a breath and she quickly burst in.
“Chung Po said to watch out for Lyn. She’s not what she seems.” Out of her clogging costume and in a gold linen pantsuit, Mumsie looked chic and professional.
“I figured that out. Does he have anything more specific, like she’s a voodoo priestess or has a history of multiple personality? She’s acting so strange.” Mumsie opened her mouth to say something more as Lyn’s voice boomed over the microphone.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this year’s Love County Fair Queen Contest competition. To begin the evening’s events, we have last year’s Princess, Sara Sue Bergen, singing her arrangement of “Fancy.”
Eight-year-old Sara Sue pranced out in her red sequined dress and heavy makeup and began belting out the song that told of her descent into prostitution. Just the song you want to hear your grade school child singing. Her delivery was pageant with a capital P, her voice purring and growling as was appropriate for the lyrics.
Cherilyn rolled her eyes. Mumsie’s lips tightened. I knew they were both appalled that this mother would let her child sing that song in such a suggestive way. However, Missy leaned forward, enthralled. And the competition hadn’t begun.
It would be a long night.
I left to go backstage and make certain we had trophies, flowers, banner ribbons to go over the shoulder with Queen Pageant displayed in sparkles that one of the mothers had made for all the girls who placed to wear. I wished she’d made them for everyone but, no.
The trophies and banners had been stuffed into a too-small cardboard carton so I straightened the ribbons as best I could. So far, I saw no sign of flowers. I heard Lyn introduce the next-to-last of the opening acts. I combed back farther behind the stage. I knew those flowers had to be somewhere. I can’t believe the guys would bring the trophies and ribbons and leave the flowers. I moved backstage left toward the dressing rooms and ran into the videographer, Kyle.
“Hey guy, how are you? How’s the taping going?”
“Great.” Sarcasm dripped off his words. He did irony well for such a young kid. “There is no good angle, no light, and the sound quality is the pits. I can’t believe we had to move indoors. I won’t be able to get one single good tape. I hate it.”
I sucked a breath in through my teeth. “Sorry, Kyle. Hard to have a talent competition at a crime scene. I think the yellow tape would have gotten in your way, too.”
“I know. I know. I just don’t like change when I have everything set up right.”
He was such a good-looking kid. Dark hair, fair skin. Reminded me of Aiden, and the thought of Aiden drove out pageant thoughts as I pictured him and remembered the effect he had on me.
“Um, Mrs. Cates, can you move so I can run this cable to that plug?” He pointed toward the back of the stage.
I tore my mind back to the business at hand.
“Kyle. Have you seen any flowers anywhere back here?”
“Not back here, but I saw some by the entrance when I came in, that big door right in the center of the little lobby out front.”
“Yay, thanks. You’re my best friend forever.”
He looked somewhat alarmed at that prospect.
I raced back to the door leading to the stairs by the stage. I didn’t hear anything from out front and Lyn should be announcing the first contestant for the modeling portion. Moms loved this part as they could show off how much money they were able to spend on the girl’s dresses, many of them pushing a couple of thousand dollars. The girls, on the other hand, loved to show off their talents, whatever they might be.
I reached the stairs, determined to see what was going on with the c
ontest. After that, I would get the flowers and check to see if they had been completely ruined. It was too late to reorder. As I reached the top of the stairs and took a step forward, I felt a push at my back, not like a hand, more like a hurricane-force wind. I didn’t speed down the stairs. I flew, literally, launched into the air like an awkward bird. I had just enough time to register the fact of my coming doom before I landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
Chapter Thirteen
I barreled into one of the dads who was videotaping, sent his camera flying, and felt my ankle turn under me in the same instant. Burning pain shot up my leg, snatching away my breath, sending nausea surging through my stomach. All I could do was concentrate on deep breathing and not throwing up.
Lyn announced the first contestant. Good, the show must go on. I felt a tug on my arm. Someone wanted me to get up but my vision was fuzzy from the black spots flying across my eyes.
From a distance I heard someone ask, “Are you all right? Can you get up? Tali, answer me, damn it!”
Hell no, I wasn’t all right. My leg felt as if it had been torn off. What the hell had happened? There hadn’t been anyone near me when I fell. Why had I felt a push on my back?
I looked up into JT’s concerned eyes. Great, he gets to see me make a fool of myself as usual.
“I’m fine. Can’t you tell? I’m on my ass, on the floor, in front of the entire town.”
“I see your sarcasm is intact. Do you want me to help you up or call nine-one-one?”
“I’ll be lynched if I distract from modeling and cost someone a trophy, so no ambulances or cute firemen. Maybe you can haul me up and I can hop on one leg or something.”
JT helped me up to a standing position. I bit back yelps and nasty words as searing pain shot up my leg.
“When did you get here?” I said through gritted teeth. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“I arrived just in time to see you fly off the stairs. Quite a launch. We have storm warnings so I thought I’d hang around in case we had to get this crowd into a shelter.” He looked down at my rapidly swelling ankle. “Are you sure you don’t want a trip to the ER, or at least ice and elevation?”
“Not on tonight’s schedule.”
“I’m sure falling wasn’t either, but here you are.”
“Just help me get to the front lobby so I can check the flowers and then we’ll go from there.”
JT steered me to a chair at the end of the front row, next to the wall. “Sit here. I’ll go get the flowers and check on the weather. I’ll be right back.”
I sat, jarred the ankle in spite of being careful. Shooting pains covered the foot and ankle.
This was going to cramp my evening all to hell, not to mention next week’s masquerade ball. I was in charge of decorations and the fair contest winner’s court appearance.
I reached for my cell in my skirt pocket. Cass answered on the first ring as usual.
“Mom, when are you coming home? Sean wants to go to Rusty’s. Can he please go? Chase wants to go back to the carnival.”
“You made up, after all that?” I whispered, unable to keep incredulity out of my voice.
“Yeah. It was no big deal.”
“I really need you to watch Sean at home. I already told him he couldn’t go anywhere and Rusty that he had to go home. I also need a quick favor.”
“Oh for God’s sake, can’t you do something without strings attached?”
“No. I can’t. Remember those crutches Mumsie used last year?”
“You mean the ones she promised to use but only pretended to use because they stretched out the top she was wearing?”
“Those would be the ones.”
“Why? Who needs crutches? Tell me you haven’t gotten hurt again in a fight?”
“Bring the crutches up to the old auditorium. JT or I will meet you in the lobby.”
“Mom, what happened?”
People down the row were giving me dirty looks. “Tell you later, got to get off the phone.” Obviously I wasn’t allowed to interrupt the modeling portion, which to me was the most boring.
I clicked off and put away the phone. JT brought a small trashcan I could turn upside down to rest my foot on and the large box of flowers.
“Bring the flowers closer so I can see,” I whispered. “Then take them backstage for later.”
I looked over the blooms, which didn’t look too bad for having hung around at the fairgrounds and in the lobby.
JT took them up the stairs and through the door.
I sat and tapped my good foot. Where was the kid? Our house isn’t that far. We lived five minutes from here.
A sudden chill raced down my back and made me look up. The modeling was done and entertainment had begun. Lyn glared at me, anger shooting off her like rays from the sun. What was her problem? Hadn’t she seen me fall? I wasn’t just loafing.
I gestured toward my ankle and she focused her gaze lower. I swear she grinned when she saw the discoloration; the expression on her face had turned to concern so maybe I’d imagined it. But for some reason, Teresa’s sudden allergic reaction came to mind. Nah, not connected.
Once Cass came with the crutches and saw the ankle and my eye, she just shook her head and left. JT had found a baggie and ice to tie around it.
“That’s really sweet, JT, but how do I walk with this tied onto me.”
“You don’t, much.”
I didn’t argue. I was pretty sure it wasn’t broken and I had pills left over from my last trip to the dentist.
The audience shifted in their seats, a sure sign they were ready for the random entertainment to end so the talent portion could begin. I was ready for talent to end, the night to end. Thunder rumbled as if to agree with me.
I needed to be backstage. The two-second trip to the stairs at the side of the stage felt like it took at least two hours. Since an act was only midway through, Lyn came down to help me climb.
“What happened, hon? What’s with the crutches?” she whispered.
I explained.
“Gosh, I can’t believe I didn’t see it happen. Of course, the angle would be all wrong from the stage. Still, I feel for you.”
I bit back a groan, determined not to be a wimp.
“You all right? Do you need to go home?” Unsaid was, I can do just fine without you.
“I’m fine,” I managed to get out. “I’m going to check on the kids. I have the trophies all ready to put on the table to hand out once the judges are done.”
Thunder roared, louder this time and closer.
Once backstage, I crept my way toward the dressing rooms, managing not to fall over any of the detritus scattered about such as ropes, miscellaneous paint cans, a cardboard sword. It was quiet, too much so for my taste. Too many girls waited to strut their considerable talents for silence to reign.
I ran into a dead end. Shit, I must have turned in the wrong direction. JT was right, I shouldn’t be walking. I felt my ankle swelling, throbbing. I took a few deep breaths, wished I could have carried the water bottle I had back at the seat.
Louder thunder. Loud crack. Pitch black. Shit, the power was out. I was trapped backstage. I could hear the voices out front. JT evidently took over Lyn’s microphone.
“Stay where you are, everyone. It was only a power surge. We’ll have the power back on shortly and the show will go on. In the meantime there’s a lightning show out the windows. If you stay in your seats, no one will trip and get hurt. All of you in the back, stay where you are. Tali, that means you too.”
Great. How does he know where I am anyway?
I heard panicked voices from the direction of the dressing rooms and crept forward. At this rate, by the time I reached the dressing room, the crisis would be over. Since the contest had been targeted with two murders, the cover of darkness wasn’t comforting. It was a perfect movie moment for some killer to strike again. Gosh, that sounded melodramatic.
Considering the murders, maybe not so overdramatic after a
ll.
When a cold hand touched my arm, my scream echoed through the entire theatre.
“Are you trying to scare me?” Aiden sounded amused.
I took in gulps of air, trying to slow down my breathing and pulse rate. “Why the hell would you sneak up on me in the dark? What are you doing back here anyway?”
“Finding you. I figured the sheriff knew you were back here from his reaction out front. I have great vision in the dark. Where were you going and why are you on crutches?”
“Dressing rooms and sprained ankle. At least I hope it’s nothing more than a sprain.”
“Shouldn’t you be off it?”
“Don’t start. Right now I’d better check on the kids before they start trying to find their way in the dark and get hurt.”
Or the serial killer ups the body count.
Aiden’s voice came out of the darkness. “This is ridiculous. It’ll take us half an hour to navigate the back of the stage at this pace.” I felt him turn toward me even though I couldn’t really see him well.
“Hand me the crutches.” I heard them fall to the floor.
Aiden scooped me up and carried me to the dressing rooms.
“But I need the crutches to walk.” It was nice being held close to his chest. He felt cool through his shirt, and firm. I must be running a fever. Under other circumstances it would have been more than just cozy.
“I’ll go back for them. You go in and calm down the kids.” He deposited me like a sack of grain, placing my hand on the doorknob. “Go in and talk to them, reassure them that the boogie man isn’t coming.”
Several yelps went through the room when I opened the door. “Sorry, sorry. It’s me, Tali. Everyone okay?”
“No, we’re not,” Kimmie Baker’s tearful voice answered. “We all need to put on our makeup and costumes and it’s dark and no one has flashlights or candles. What are we going to do?” Her voice wailed up at the end.
“What’s going on anyway?” another girl asked. “Why are the lights all out? What if someone wants to do something bad? We wouldn’t be able to stop them or see them in the dark.”
Carol Shenold - Tali Cates 02 - Bloody Murder Page 10