“I’ll be careful.”
“See that you are. As for me, I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on. I have a feeling this one is going to be a mess to sort out.”
Ivy had a feeling he was right.
Six
Jack met Brian at the police station, delivering his partner a mug of coffee and doughnut from the diner before settling at his desk.
“I thought we would probably go straight to the hospital today,” Jack started.
“There’s no need.” Brian nodded in thanks for the special delivery. “I talked to Aubrey’s father on the phone. She’s still alive, still fighting, but she’s not awake. I asked him about antifreeze in the house, but he says he doesn’t have anything like that because he always takes his vehicle in to get serviced. He gave us permission to search so I sent one of the uniforms over. I don’t think this was an accident.”
“Which means the perpetrator is probably here,” Jack mused. “Do you think it’s one of the other girls?”
“I think that antifreeze is a common poison,” Brian replied. “It’s one of the few things that are easy for people to get their hands on. All of the instructions are right out there on the internet.”
“Ivy said that Aubrey was one of the pageant frontrunners, although I’m not sure how she knows that. Simone told me the same thing.”
“Talk is cheap in this town and the pageant is always a source of local amusement,” Brian explained. “Most people don’t care about it other than the drama it provides. And, yes, before you ask the obvious question, there’s always some form of drama associated with the pageant.
“Most people find the whole thing funny,” he continued. “The only ones who take it seriously are the participants.”
“I asked Ivy about the pageant,” Jack said. “She swears up and down that she didn’t care about the girly aspects of it. She just wanted to win.”
“Do you not believe her?”
Jack shrugged, noncommittal. “She’s never been overly girly before. Still, I can see how that might appeal to someone who was somewhat ostracized as a teenager. She doesn’t talk about it much. I want to go back in time and save her from the torment, but that’s not really an option.”
“She wasn’t tormented,” Brian clarified. “I won’t say things were easy for her, but Ivy always gave as good as she got.”
“But Max was her only friend,” Jack argued. “Even now, Max is her best friend. I’m glad she has him – he’s a great source of protection for all the trouble she seems to find – but she doesn’t have anyone else besides Max to hang out with when I’m busy.”
“Do you have friends?” Brian challenged.
“I have Max and you.”
Brian snorted. “I don’t think you should be casting aspersions on Ivy’s friend-making abilities given your lack of friends.”
“I’m new in town,” Jack reminded him. “Besides, I had friends. We went camping with them last summer. Sure, one of them turned out to be a killer and the rest kind of cut ties with me after the investigation, but it’s not as if I’ve never had friends. Ivy worries me because she’s so insulated.”
“She’s not insulated and she opens herself up to other people,” Brian argued. “Personally, I think you just like worrying about Ivy because it gives you a little rush.”
“Whatever.” Jack rolled his neck. “She’s volunteering to help with the pageant, by the way. Simone Graham asked her yesterday and Ivy was dead set against it. Now, all of a sudden, she’s for it.”
“Because she wants to dig into what happened,” Brian deduced. “She wants to figure out who poisoned Aubrey. I hate to say it, but it’s not a bad idea. She will be able to get deeper than we will.”
“I know. That’s what I told her. I also told her to be very careful about what she drinks. If someone suspects she’s there investigating … .”
“Then they might try to do to her what they did to Aubrey,” Brian finished. “I’m sure Ivy will be careful.”
“I’m sure she will, too. She suggested we check out someone named Peyton Miller, by the way.”
“Peyton?” Brian’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Why her?”
“Ivy said she wants to win the pageants, but Aubrey was the frontrunner. I’m not quite sure what she was getting at, but Ivy was adamant we check out Peyton because she finished second last year.”
“Hmm.” Brian rubbed his chin. “It kind of makes sense. Peyton had a meltdown when she lost last year. She stole the crown from the winner’s head and tried to run away with it and everything. Then she got tangled in one of those sash things and tripped. It was a circus.”
Jack widened his eyes, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? This pageant sounds like a freak show.”
“Stay tuned,” Brian said. “Now that the frontrunner is apparently gone from this year’s pageant, it’s going to be a free-for-all. Let’s go talk to Peyton Miller. It can’t possibly hurt, and she’s a livewire.”
“Let’s do it.”
“I’M SORRY, NOW YOU want to volunteer your time?”
Simone was less than solicitous when Ivy showed up at the barn and offered to help shortly before eleven. Ivy knew that would happen and forced herself to remain calm even though she wanted to wrestle Simone to the ground and poke her eyes until she agreed to stop being a snobby pain.
“I thought about what you said and I agree you need help,” Ivy said. “I have time to help so … here I am.”
Simone blinked slowly, her expression reminding Ivy of a snake right before it attacked. “Fine,” she said after a beat. “You were in the pageant once. You didn’t do well, but whatever. You can be something of a mentor.”
Ivy bit back a nasty retort and forced a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.” She watched Simone shuffle off in the direction of the dressing room, indulging in a bit of a sneer now that the woman wasn’t watching her. She almost didn’t see Max as he sidled up to her until he was already at her side.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.” Ivy took a moment to look Max up and down. He was dressed in simple jeans and a white T-shirt, an open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders to ward off potential chill. He was also wearing aftershave. Suspicious, Ivy leaned forward and sniffed. “That’s new. Who are you trying to impress?”
“Oh, geez.” Max made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “I put on aftershave every morning. It’s part of my ritual.”
Ivy wasn’t convinced. “You’d better not be going after one of these girls. They’re illegal.”
“Do I look like the type of guy who needs to swim in the kiddie pool?” Max was understandably offended. “Give me a little credit here.”
“I’m sorry.” Ivy honestly was. “I’m just … irritated. Simone brings out the worst in me.”
“She’s not that bad,” Max argued. “She’s a bit shallow and intense about the pageant, but you guys simply don’t focus on the same things in life. That doesn’t mean Simone is a bad person.”
“I don’t think Simone is a bad person because she likes the pageant,” Ivy clarified.
“Good.”
“I think she’s a bad person because I’ve met her and she’s an idiot most of the time.”
“Oh, geez. Why are you even here if you have this attitude? I know why I’m here. I volunteered to do the sets because it garners free advertising for the lumberyard. Why are you here, though?”
Ivy averted her gaze. “Maybe I’m interested in community theater. Did you ever consider that?”
“Not for a second.” Max folded his arms over his chest and tapped his chin as he regarded her, things finally clicking into place. “You’re here to watch the girls because someone purposely poisoned Aubrey. You think one of the girls is guilty.”
“I’m here to donate my time,” Ivy corrected, leaning forward. “Also, keep that theory to yourself. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious of me.”
“Because you’re
here to spy on them?”
“Because I don’t want them on edge,” Ivy countered. “Now … go make some sets. I’m here to be a mentor so … I need to start mentoring.”
“Uh-huh.” Max watched her with amused eyes. “Do you even know where the girls are?”
“I know where they are.” She didn’t have a clue. “They’re … in the dressing room.” She played a hunch because Simone disappeared in that direction.
“Well, you should probably get over there and start your mentoring then,” Max teased. “I’m sure the wisdom you impart on those girls will be nothing short of amazing.”
“Don’t make me kick you, Max,” Ivy warned.
“Your head is in a great place for mentoring,” Max said. “Those girls won’t know what hit them.”
“That’s the idea.”
“WE PROMISE NOT TO take up too much of your time, but we have some questions regarding the incident at pageant rehearsals yesterday,” Brian started once Poppy Miller, Peyton’s mother, ushered the partners into the house.
“No, I understand.” Poppy was somber. “This is a big deal.”
“It totally is,” Peyton agreed, sitting on the couch next to her mother. “Now that Aubrey is down and out, there will be an opening in the pageant ranks. Have you heard who they’re going to pick to fill her place?”
Jack was caught off guard by the question. “We’re not here to talk about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it looks like someone tried to poison Aubrey Daniels and we’re trying to figure out who,” Jack replied, his patience wearing thin.
Brian took a more conciliatory approach. “Aubrey is still in the hospital and will be for some time,” he said. “This is a very serious issue.”
“It was probably an accident,” Poppy said pragmatically.
“Not likely,” Brian countered. “My understanding is that there was some … static … between Peyton and Aubrey regarding the pageant. We’re here to make sure that things didn’t accidentally spiral out of control.”
“What do you mean?” Poppy asked blankly.
“They think I poisoned Aubrey, Mom,” Peyton volunteered, rolling her eyes. “They think I wanted to murder her to get back in the pageant.”
“Get back in the pageant?” Jack furrowed his brow. “I thought you were already involved in the pageant.”
“If I were would I be here now?” Peyton challenged. “Everyone else is at practice. I’m here. Shouldn’t that have been your first clue that things might not be what you think they are?”
Jack was seriously starting to get agitated with the entire pageant ordeal and he’d barely started. “I was under the impression that Aubrey was the frontrunner.”
“She was,” Peyton agreed.
“I was also under the impression that you wanted to win,” Jack added.
“I do, but I didn’t make the final cut to be able to compete.”
“I don’t understand what that means,” Jack hedged, looking to Brian for help.
“I don’t understand what that means either,” Brian said, his face unreadable. “What cut?”
“It’s something new they started this year,” Poppy explained. “There were so many girls interested in competing, they had to cull the number. They cut about half the girls and only fifteen made the final cut.”
“Who decided on the final cut?” Brian asked.
“Simone Graham. She’s the pageant coordinator.”
Brian briefly locked gazes with Jack before licking his lips and continuing. “I guess we didn’t realize they were cutting out girls before the pageant even started. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s definitely not fair,” Peyton said. “Simone thinks she’s the queen of the world and she does whatever she wants. We’re considering suing because of what she did. Isn’t that right, Mom?”
“I don’t know that we’re going to sue,” Poppy clarified. “We’re definitely going to give her a good talking to, though.”
“No, we’re going to sue.” Peyton was firm. “I want to make that woman pay.”
“Yes, well, it sounds like you have good reason.” Jack forced a smile. “Just for the record, where were you yesterday afternoon?”
“I was at the school hanging out with the other girls who were cut,” Peyton replied. “We were talking about starting our own pageant to compete with the old one.”
“I see.” Jack rolled his neck. “I don’t suppose you could give me a list of names for whom you were with, could you?”
“Sure. That’s no problem.”
“Great. As for the pageant … um … we’ll talk to Ms. Graham and get back to you. We’re not sure exactly what’s going on there.”
“Definitely,” Brian agreed. “We’ll get to the bottom of the new … rules … and keep you updated. It’s the least we can do.”
“UGH. I DIDN’T LIKE being around teenage girls when I was one of them,” Ivy groused, sinking to the floor next to Max as he painted a set and cracking the seal on a bottle of water she purchased from the vending machine. “Now that I’m an adult, they seem especially obnoxious.”
Max smirked as he slid her a sidelong look. “Let me have a drink of that.” He grabbed the bottle of water from Ivy’s hand before she had a chance to hand it over and stared at it a moment before drinking. “No one gave this to you, right?”
Ivy snorted. “You sound like Jack. No, I bought it from the vending machine. He gave me strict instructions to drink the water in its entirety in one sitting and not leave it around so someone can poison it.”
“He’s a smart guy.” Max took a long swig and followed Ivy’s gaze toward the girls. They were giggling and screeching, snarky comments flying in every direction as they practiced for the opening number. “I can’t believe you ever wanted to be part of this.”
“I didn’t want to be part of this,” Ivy argued. “If you remember correctly, Mom made me be part of it because they didn’t have enough contestants.”
“I remember. You complained for three days straight.”
“See.”
“Once those three days were over, though, you got as crazy as the other girls because you wanted to win,” Max added. “Now, I get you didn’t care about the frilly stuff and only cared about winning, but you still got manic about it.”
Ivy tilted her head to the side as she considered the statement. “I’m embarrassed about how I acted.”
“I’m embarrassed about how you acted, too.”
Ivy elbowed Max in the stomach, causing him to bark out a laugh. “Jack asked me about it and I was mortified. That pageant is one of those things I wish I could travel back in time to eradicate from my memory.”
“It’s long over with, Ivy,” Max said. “You’re an adult now. Last time I checked, you were a pretty high-functioning adult. You even have a new fiancé and house renovations in front of you. Why would you want to fixate on the past when you have so much going on in the present?”
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to help myself. I think it’s a mental defect.”
Max’s chuckle was loud enough that his shoulders shook. “You’re here to watch the girls to see if they try to poison one another. You’re not here because you felt a yearning to go back to that point in time. It’s okay.”
“I know.”
“Have you seen anything nefarious?”
Ivy shrugged as she reclaimed the water bottle. “They’re all horrible to each other. I don’t know if time tweaks memories or something, but I don’t remember being quite this terrible when I was a teenager.”
“I think time does alter perception, but I agree that these girls are particularly annoying,” Max said. “They seem to be … fake, for lack of a better word. It’s as if they’re all putting on a performance.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like,” Ivy agreed. “Jack told me to watch them to see if anyone stood out as a potential suspect. So far, they all stand out as potential suspects. Not one of them has expres
sed any worry or remorse over Aubrey. Instead, they’re all giddy that she’s not competing and they have a chance at winning.”
Max cocked an eyebrow. “Have you considered that maybe several of them are working together?”
Ivy pursed her lips. “No, but that’s an interesting theory.”
“Just be careful,” Max said. “I’m not sure I trust any of those kids. They all seem manipulative.”
Ivy took another drink from the bottle and then handed it to Max. “Finish this up. Don’t leave it around.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Max accepted the bottle and drained it. “You be careful, too. They’re all going to be suspicious of you because you’re engaged to Jack and this isn’t your regular scene.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Do better than that,” Max instructed. “Be very careful. I don’t like any of this right now.”
“That makes two of us.”
Seven
“I need to practice for my talent.”
Miley Winthrop, dressed in a sparkly leotard, fixed Ivy with a pointed look as Ivy sat with her back against the barn wall.
“Why are you telling me?” Ivy was beyond bored with pageant shenanigans. Jack texted twenty minutes before and informed her he was on his way to take her to lunch. She was biding her time until then, trying to stay out of the line of fire.
“Because I need you to watch me and tell me what I’m doing wrong.” Miley firmly gripped a baton with ribbons attached to the end. “Talent is the second most important part of the pageant.”
“What’s the most important part?”
Miley offered up a “well, duh” eye roll. “Being pretty.”
“At least you have your priorities straight,” Ivy drawled. “Go ahead and practice. I’m leaving for lunch in a few minutes, but I can watch you until then.”
“You’d better watch the whole thing,” Miley groused, tossing her blonde ponytail over her shoulder and scurrying to the middle of the floor. She cued up a music selection Ivy didn’t recognize and began gyrating her hips in such a manner that Ivy was surprised she didn’t have herself wrapped around a pole while delivering the dance.
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