“Of course.” She stopped. Looked up at him. “Are you?”
His answer mattered to her. Cooking mattered. Packing mattered. And Pierce mattered.
“Yes.” He nodded again.
And she was satisfied.
* * *
THERE WAS NO gathering of contestants in the hotel Friday evening. Eliza was the only contestant staying there. As far as they knew, none of the others were flying in for the final round. Still, Pierce was glad to know that the hotel staff had been alerted by police to report anyone asking anything about her. They weren’t to give out her room number for any reason. And nothing was to be delivered to her without either her or Pierce personally requesting it. If they requested by phone, the order would be delivered only after a call back to the room to verify that it was they who’d ordered.
They were proceeding with more caution than might be necessary.
He fully approved of the plan.
He’d approved the police escort that drove them to the studio the next day, and insisted, with Eliza’s permission, that Eliza be on the premises in a room of her own an hour before the doors opened to the public.
He just wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with his beautiful wife for the almost two hours they were going to be sitting there, staring at each other, before her call.
“I’ve got hair and makeup artists coming in half an hour,” she said after several minutes of silence.
She’d been playing a game on her tablet. He’d been watching her.
She’d need to feel beautiful, she’d said when she’d chosen the short red dress two nights before. He hadn’t felt like he had a right to argue. Hadn’t wanted to test the waters on that one.
“You look beautiful just as you are,” he said. And knew before the words left his mouth how inane he sounded. She wasn’t wearing any makeup at all. And even he knew that the bright lights on stage would make her bare skin look washed out.
She was wearing her hair down but was having it lifted on top and curled around her shoulders. He knew because he’d heard her talking to someone from the studio about it on the phone that morning.
She went back to her game. He went back to watching her.
She’d had him wear black dress pants, a white shirt and a red tie to match her dress. If she won, he’d be called up on stage with her. He’d shaved twice.
“You can turn on the television,” she said.
He had his tablet, too.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Who knew how much longer he’d have times like this, alone with her?
“You want something to eat?” he asked, getting up to see what snacks had been provided for them.
“No, thanks.”
“A drink?”
“No.”
He nodded. Sat back down.
“You think Officer Ryan’s here yet?” she asked.
“No.”
And so it continued. Stilted conversation. Criminal that it had come to this between the two of them.
But, esteemed cop that he was, Pierce couldn’t seem to find a way to solve the problem.
* * *
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES before call, Tamera came to the room to tell Pierce that Ryan wanted to speak with him. Something had come up.
“I’m going out to meet Ryan for last-minute checks,” he told Eliza, who was sitting in a chair with her hair done, waiting on makeup. “I’m going to be stationed with him during the show.” She already knew that second part, but he told her anyway, so it would sound like everything was going as planned. He didn’t want her worried about anything except cooking. This was her moment. Her time.
She looked at him. Needing more than he could give her.
So he gave her what he could. He leaned over. Kissed her deep and long. “I love you.”
He didn’t wait to hear if she could return the sentiment. He had to get to work.
* * *
ERNIE RYAN HAD a grim expression as he met Pierce outside the green room and led him down that hall to the soundproof room they’d used the previous week for questioning.
He opened the door and stood back for Pierce to enter.
He wasn’t surprised to see Daniel Trevino sitting there, a manila folder on the table. The high school senior looked like a kid anyone would be proud of. Neat blond hair. Short-sleeved Family Secrets shirt tucked into clean jeans. Socks and deck shoes. A cell phone sticking out of the pocket of his shirt. He sat up straight, his hands on the table.
Looks were often deceiving. Especially with boys.
Pierce knew that Eliza didn’t trust him to know what he was doing where Daniel was concerned.
But his instincts had kept a lot of people from dying in the Middle Eastern desert. They’d told him that another boy was lying to him.
“What’s up?” Pierce asked, choosing to stand rather than take the seat that Ryan indicated.
Ryan pushed the folder toward Pierce and, directing his comment to the boy, said, “Tell him what you told me.”
“I found those this morning under the passenger seat of my car,” Daniel said.
Pierce studied the boy and then opened the folder.
There wasn’t much inside. A couple of index cards. And some sheets containing small black stick-on letters...with pertinent letters missing.
Pierce spelled “You’ve been warned” and “Don’t come back” with the empty spaces. And stared at the boy.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Are you somehow associated with Grace?” he asked. Why couldn’t he nail the boy? He’d bet his life on the fact that Daniel was hiding the truth.
“I didn’t do it,” the boy said, his tone even. “But I think I know who did, and I have no idea what else she might do.”
“The girl,” Ryan said. “Camille. She rode with him to the studio last week.”
“And you didn’t notice her carrying these out to your car?” Pierce tossed the folder back down on the table. Eliza was due on stage in less than an hour. If there was going to be a problem, they needed to find out what it was and stop it from happening.
“She was already in the car by the time I got there. You questioned her first, and I gave her my keys so she could go out to the car to wait for me while I was being questioned.”
Which would have given her time to stick the note in the locker. He was a smart kid. The questions the previous week must have made him nervous.
No decent guy hung his crime on a girl.
“Where’s Camille now?” Pierce asked Ryan, still watching Daniel.
“We don’t know,” Ryan said.
“I stopped by to pick her up this morning, but her foster mom told me she hadn’t come home last night.”
“And you didn’t hear from her?”
“Only a text this morning.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed them the text.
See you at the studio.
“She plans to be here,” Daniel said, wearing a worried frown as he glanced between Pierce and Ryan. “I’m afraid of what she could have planned...”
Pierce had more questions for the boy. A lot of them.
But first, they had to find the girl.
“What happens if we don’t find her before it’s time to go on the air?” Pierce asked after Ryan told Daniel to stay put and they left the room.
Ryan shook his head. “We have an audience full of people, a live nationally televised show and what amounts to some concerning pranks.”
And a warning. With no real threat attached, other than the fact that it was issued. Don’t come back. No real threat of harm.
And yet...an implied threat.
“The studio’s been checked,” Ryan continued. “Natasha Stevens says the sho
w goes on. The studio backs her decision. You have any idea how much money is riding on this? Advertising dollars alone are more than I make in a lifetime.”
Pierce figured the guy was exaggerating a bit, but he got the point.
So, did he try to convince Eliza to back out?
Or did he go find the girl?
He opted to find the girl.
* * *
ELIZA HAD A rare moment alone in the room she’d been in all morning in a hallway she’d never been down before. Tamera had excused herself to the adjoining bathroom, and Eliza had been glad to see her go. She liked the woman; she just needed a second to compose herself.
To let her mind rattle off her recipe. To check herself on every detail of the day’s dish. She ran through what-ifs. What if the meat didn’t sear quickly enough? What if they had goose instead of duck? What if the baguette wasn’t a day old?
What if Pierce left her when they got back to Shelby Island the next day?
No.
She couldn’t go there. Not then. She was a professional chef. Her job was to cook.
The outer door opened and she looked up, hoping to see Pierce, hoping that he’d come back to wish her luck. Just to check to see that she was okay.
It was the girl, Camille, instead. In her Family Secrets shirt and jeans, her short brown hair perky as usual, she smiled. “Just checking to see if there’s anything I can get you,” she said, looking down the hall behind her and then back into the room. “Some water? Anything to eat?”
The last thing she wanted to do was eat.
And she didn’t want to have to pee while she was on stage. “Thank you, but no,” she said. “I really appreciate you thinking of me, though.”
“Where’s Tamera?” Camille asked.
Eliza nodded toward the bathroom door, expecting the guard to be out any second.
Camille got a funny look on her face, like she was unsure of herself, and then came fully inside, closing the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AS SOON AS Ryan got word out that they were looking for Camille, his radio started to buzz. Several guards had seen her on the premises.
She’d been seen in a back hallway. In the room where employees stored their personal items while they worked. She’d been spotted on the side of the stage, running a headset to one of the cameramen. And had gone to collect a red bulb to replace one that had burned out. As best they could tell, she’d been on the premises for half an hour or more.
One voice stopped and another started. Camille had been seen less than a minute before, at the door of Eliza Westin’s dressing room.
Pierce bolted.
* * *
ELIZA GLANCED UP as Pierce rushed in. Tamera was beside her, talking on her radio, but all Eliza could think about was the young woman who’d slumped to her lap and was clinging to her so tightly it hurt—sobbing uncontrollably.
Camille had spoken a time or two, but the only thing Eliza had been able to make out was the word sorry.
Pierce looked her over. “You okay?”
“Fine.” As in, she could handle the discomfort.
When Pierce spoke, the girl squeezed harder. Eliza could hardly breathe.
And then she was gone, pulled forcibly away.
“No!” Camille cried, still reaching for Eliza. “I’m sorry!”
“What’s...” Stunned, Eliza watched as Pierce handed Camille off to another female officer.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” Tamera was saying to him. “I just went in to use the restroom, and no one was allowed in the hallway unless they’d been screened...”
Eliza would not have wanted to be on the end of the look Pierce gave the woman.
Eliza stood up. “She wasn’t trying to hurt me, Pierce. She’s deeply disturbed by something. She needs her mother. Or professional help, maybe. She’s just distraught...”
While the situation had been alarming, incredibly distressing, Eliza wasn’t afraid. There was no reason for...
“She’s the one who left the note, Eliza.”
Camille? It made no sense. Nothing made sense anymore. “But...why? How did you figure it out?”
“Daniel.”
“He was in on it, too?”
“He says not, but I’m sure he is.”
So she’d been wrong about that, too.
As the police escorted a hysterical Camille down the hall, Angela came in. “You have ten minutes till call. You going to be okay to go on?”
“Of course.” She had no idea if she was okay. But more than ever, she had to get that win.
It was the only way she’d have any control over her life.
“We’re sending makeup and hair back in case you need any touching up,” the stage manager said, shaking her head. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Westin. No one saw it coming from her...”
Eliza nodded. Maybe someday she’d know why the girl had picked her, in particular, to target.
Maybe not.
“You think it’s because of Grace?” she asked Pierce after Angela left. Eliza didn’t want Grace to be involved.
“We can’t find any connection between her and Daniel. Maybe once we look at Camille’s past...who knows.”
“You think it’s guilt that set her off? Or fear of being caught because of all the questions last week?”
He shrugged. “We don’t know, Liza. But you can rest assured we’re going to find out.”
A knock on the still-open door signaled the arrival of someone from the wardrobe department. Thankfully her dress was fine.
In the flurry of activity that followed, Pierce left.
He waved. Smiled.
He didn’t tell her good luck.
* * *
“YOU KNOW MORE than you’re saying.” Ryan, seated directly across from Daniel Trevino, gave him a direct stare. Pierce, feeling somewhat detective-like in his dress clothes, stood off to the side, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.
Camille’s foster mother had been called, and the girl was going to be taken to the police station for questioning once she’d calmed down. From what Pierce had heard, child services was involved since Camille was in foster care. He’d also heard that the girl had sworn that she hadn’t done anything else after she constructed that note.
What wasn’t yet clear was whether or not she’d been responsible for the earlier incidents. And whether or not she’d worked alone.
The other big question was why? Why these kids? Why Eliza?
Or was it just Family Secrets they were after for some reason, and Eliza had been a random target?
“I swear.” Daniel shook his head. “I don’t have any idea why she did this.”
As it stood, they had no reason to hold Daniel. But Ryan was a good guy—he was giving Pierce a chance to go at the kid.
“You’re sure you didn’t help? Maybe just with the mushrooms? The vinegar?”
“No. I did not. I would not. Listen, Camille’s a little...she’s been through some tough stuff. She kind of leaned on me, and I wanted to be there for her if I could, but I’d never condone sabotage. I can hardly believe she did it. She’s not a bad kid. She’s just...off right now. Ask her foster mother. She’ll tell you.”
“You know her foster mother, then?”
“Just from, you know, picking her up and stuff.”
“Have you ever heard Camille say anything about Mrs. Westin?”
“Never.”
“She didn’t have it in for her for some reason?”
“Not that I ever heard.”
Pierce got an internal nudge, but it wasn’t strong enough to act on.
“How about Family Secrets?” Ryan asked. “Could Mrs. Westin just have been a means to an end? Did Camille think she was getting a
raw deal from Ms. Stevens? Or the studio?”
“No, she was pumped when she got the internship. She’s the one who told me about it.”
“How well do you know her?” Pierce asked.
Daniel shrugged. “Kinda well.”
“How do you know her?”
“From school. And...around.”
There. Pierce got that stab in his gut that told him something more was up.
“You two date?”
“What?” For the first time the kid showed a hint of losing his cool. “No way, man! She’s a kid. And...no!”
Ryan looked at Pierce and asked, “Did she want to date you?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think so. She’s like...a kid sister.”
“So, you met her in drama class?” From Ryan again.
“No, sir.” The teenager looked over at Pierce and added, “Sirs.”
Coming forward, Pierce pulled out the chair at the end of the table. Sat down and folded his hands.
“How did you meet?”
“I dated her older sister.” Now they were getting somewhere. Whether or not it would lead to the attacks against Eliza, he didn’t know. But he didn’t want this kid out of his sight until he was certain that he hadn’t been involved in targeting his wife.
And by then, someone should be getting a report from Camille.
“Dated. You broke up?”
Daniel’s lower lip started to tremble, but the young man looked him in the eye as he said, “No, sir, she passed away. Six weeks ago. She was in a car accident. That’s why Camille’s so out of it and kind of hanging on to me. Her sister was all she had in the world.”
The kid was too smart to lie about such a thing. It was too easily verifiable.
Pierce sat back.
They were done here.
* * *
ELIZA BROWNED HER MEAT. She talked to Natasha, explaining what she was doing. She moved quickly. Efficiently. Remembering to smile at the audience. She concentrated on her recipe and spoke to Grace, encouraging her as she went to the big refrigerator between the two kitchen pods.
During the regular competition Eliza and Grace were in the same pod. But Natasha had wanted each finalist to have her own pod, and since Eliza had more wins, she’d gotten first choice.
Her Soldier's Baby Page 18