by Geri Krotow
“You make it sound so dire.” She was trying to be casual, to appear as though she could take whatever pageant involvement threw at her. But she couldn’t ignore the quivering in her belly, the wobbly feel to her knees. Bella was scared.
“It is. Or will be, soon enough.”
“How can you be so certain? You don’t even know if the man who attacked me is the same person who murdered those other women. Or if those victims were killed by the same person.”
“Actually, we’ve had DNA evidence begin to trickle in.” It’d been a month since the last murder, in Tucson, and they had some evidence being revealed. “There was matching DNA at both murder sites.”
“One a poisoning and one gunshot, right?” She recalled reading the initial reports of each murder as they came across the local online paper’s front page.
“You’re informed.”
“It’s my job. Plus I’ve been paying attention to the pageant scene over the last several months.”
“When did your friend pass?”
He remembered their conversation in the staff room. It meant he hadn’t been treading water, using the time to win her over to his point of view, or reveal what she knew only for his benefit. It might even mean he cared.
Scratch that—it’s his job to remember. To observe.
“Almost a year ago.” It felt like yesterday and ten years ago at the same time. “She was very sick for the last year, and dragging for the previous five. I can honestly say I haven’t seen her as the Gio I once knew for at least seven years or so.”
“All from malnutrition, due to her eating disorder?”
“Mostly, yes.” Bella didn’t want to discuss Gio’s long battle with mental illness, the struggles to get her friend in to the right professionals, from psychiatrists to therapists, all trained to expertly treat a young woman for the severity of her eating disorders, anxiety and depression. By the time Gio found a treatment center that worked well for her, it was too late. She’d starved herself so much that the nutritional depletion to her brain had destroyed her ability to see herself as she really was and not through the lens of body dysmorphia.
“You must have seen a lot with your friend, while she suffered like that.” His compassion brought tears to her eyes.
“You speak as if you understand what Gio went through.”
“No, I don’t have any experience with eating disorders, but my grandfather had cancer and after over ten years of fighting it, died last year.”
“I’m sorry, Holden.”
“Thanks. It’s always hard losing our loved ones.”
“Yes.”
They sat in peaceful silence and it didn’t escape her that this was what she’d always thought other people had, what they deserved, when they found that one person to go through life with. Quiet and a simple acceptance of one another’s presence.
But she had done little in her life to earn a whole lot of quiet moments, and rest wasn’t something she wanted. Not until she got to the bottom of what had triggered Gio’s life-ending issues.
“You get that there’s a killer who’s most likely involved in this pageant, and sees you as their next victim, right?” Holden’s words underscored the frivolity of her imagination. So much for quiet respite free of worry.
“I do, but frankly, I don’t have a lot of memory of being attacked.” Her hand went to her throat. “I heard his weird voice, then yours, and then it’s a blank spot until I was in the ER.”
“It’s normal for your mind to block out unpleasant memories. And being attacked is traumatic.”
“True.” She put her hand on his. “I’ve got this, Holden. I know you’re the security and law enforcement expert. I trust you and I’ll do whatever you tell me I need to, to stay safe and help you keep everyone else safe.” She removed her hand. “Is that what you wanted to hear from me?”
“Do you mean it? Because I need you to know that it’s paramount that you don’t go anywhere alone with anyone until we catch the killer.”
“I do.”
“But?”
But she wasn’t going to let anything keep her from getting this piece filed with her boss. She smiled at the man across the table from her. The man who’d spent a night in her home, something few besides her brothers had. A tug of regret deep in her gut reminded her that she’d been neglectful of her romantic life as of late. Time enough for that later.
“No buts.” She stood. “I’ll tell Jarvis we’re leaving, get my bags and then we have ten minutes to drive to the high school.”
Holden took her mug from her and walked to the sink, turned on the faucet and rinsed both cups. Bella didn’t stay to watch him perform the morning ritual. The last thing she needed was to imprint the image of Holden moving about her kitchen as if he belonged there.
As if they were more than a reporter and FBI agent, both undercover.
* * *
This was always the most exciting part of any chase. Well, except for when the victim realized they were going to die and had no way to prevent it.
The grin was impossible to hide, but if anyone from the pageant board noticed, it’d be easy to pass it off as being happy to be involved in the thirtieth Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant.
Yesterday had been scary—it all could have ended because of one stupid move. Fortunately Bella Colton was fine and from all indications it looked like she’d be back today. Bella had made the final cut and was going to be pitted against the twenty-three other beauties, but none as pretty or enticing as the green-eyed woman with fiery red streaks in her hair. It’d be better if she had her whole head of hair in a bright red. Maybe that was something they could remedy as part of her preparation to be sacrificed.
“Ten minutes.” The announcement came over the school’s antiquated public address system and the voice sounded tinny in the space behind the stage where so far, no one had ventured since yesterday.
It was the perfect vantage point.
* * *
“We can’t have you walking back and forth on the stage while we’re trying to take the girls through their choreography.” The woman leading the contestants through their opening-group-number dance steps left nothing to interpretation in her angry voice. Holden had completed his sixth circle of the large room, from the back of the auditorium seats to onstage, behind the several rows of curtains that could hide anyone all too easily.
Holden stopped in his tracks, turned and faced the tall, attractive woman who’d so far as he could tell done nothing but agitate her other pageant board members. Selina Barnes Colton was the ex-wife of Payne Colton, an oil tycoon in charge of the billion-dollar Colton Oil corporation who basically owned Mustang Valley. Selina was still on the Colton Oil Board of Directors as its VP and director of PR, and had zero problem throwing her weight around town according to Spencer, who’d filled him in on every pageant board member and judge.
“Just doing my job, ma’am.” He kept to his security dude persona, not wanting to give her the tiniest hint that he had more right to be here than she realized. “I’ll stay out of sight as much as I can, and be quiet.”
“Not good enough. The girls need to feel safe in this space—am I right, ladies?” Selina tossed her hair over a bared shoulder, her figure model thin in tight-fitting clothes. Two dozen women stood in a group onstage, in various types of dance outfits. He’d memorized all of them, and constantly counted heads to make sure no one had crept off or worse, disappeared. A pair of emerald eyes flashed at him and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to not respond to Bella’s wide grin. She was enjoying watching him take on a Colton Titan. But while the other contestants vocally supported Selina with calls of “Yeah, that’s right,” and “Listen to Ms. Colton,” Bella remained silent.
“I’m here at the request of the state pageant director, ma’am.”
“You’re telling me that Bud Langston hired you directly
and you’re not here as part of Mustang Valley High School’s staff?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Holden had no problem playing whatever role he had to in order to get his job done. But Bella’s glances communicated her impatience with Selina’s trauma-drama tactics. He needed her to remain passive to Selina’s theatrics, so that they could both gather as much information and evidence as possible.
“I think having the security guard where we can see him is a good idea. There are a lot of crazies around these days who prey on pretty women.” Bella wasn’t a mind reader. Or if she was, she’d ignored him.
Selina spun on her too-high heels and faced down Bella. Holden’s hand clenched and he forcefully kept himself from stepping forward. He was going to have to handle this protective instinct toward Bella better. His drive to serve and protect was a part of him, but this sense of needing to know that Bella was in no way in any type of danger went deeper. To a place inside himself he didn’t want to journey to, not now, maybe not ever.
To the place where he could get his heart broken again.
“That’s enough, Ms. Colton.” Selina’s head swiveled as she addressed the rest of the crowd. “No worries, we are zero relation.”
“Distant,” Bella contradicted her and Holden wanted to whoop. His stomach constricted. Where was his agent self? He was here to catch a murderer, not cheer a potential victim on as she verbally sparred with a not-so-nice woman who seemed to think the world revolved on an axis named Selina.
“Wait a minute, you’re related to one of the judges?” a contestant piped up, clearly annoyed. Her brunette hair was in two ridiculously juvenile pigtails and she wore an incredibly revealing leotard whose V-neck cut to her navel. Holden had thought this pageant was on the more conservative side but not for this contestant. “That’s absolutely not fair. I demand that this woman be disqualified. No one related to the pageant board, judges or director is allowed to compete.”
“We are not related at all, trust me.” Bella spoke with authority, but it was clear to Holden that the belligerent woman wasn’t going to let it go.
“What, do you spell Colton differently? Because from what I’m reading on both of your name tags, you have the same last name. And everyone knows that if you’re a Colton in Mustang Valley or anywhere in Arizona, you get what you want.” The overdone-leotard woman was on a roll, and several of the contestants murmured their agreement, nodding their heads and folding their arms in front of them. Holden knew the moment could prove an opportune distraction to detract from a killer, so he kept vigilant, walking slowly around the perimeter of the theater, never letting Bella out of his peripheral sight.
“Puuullleeeze, we’re from completely different branches of the family, and we’re not even blood relatives.” Selina didn’t want to be associated with a lowly blogger like Bella, it seemed. Holden stopped fighting his emotions and settled for keeping them hidden from the pageant contestants. At least the focus was off him and his job.
Except, he couldn’t keep his focus off Bella and it wasn’t for pageant reasons. Suddenly she wasn’t a potential victim; she was Bella, the woman he was getting too close to, too quickly.
Chapter 10
“Selina’s correct—we’re not related. The man she used to be married to, Payne Colton, is very distantly related to me on my father’s side, but from a different branch of the Coltons. Trust me, I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. Isn’t that right, Selina?”
Bella looked at the woman she’d only seen in tabloid stories and at the most prestigious social functions in Arizona. Selina Barnes Colton didn’t limit herself to what she’d once called the hick town of Mustang Valley any more than she had to. As the second and former wife of the Colton patriarch, she somehow had maintained her pull on the board of Colton Oil and was known for her take-no-prisoners methods with the press. Bella had tried to score an interview with her for the Lifestyle section of the Mustang Valley Gabber but Selina’s assistant had turned her down flat, stating that Selina only talks to national syndicates. Whatever.
“If that doesn’t convince everyone here that I’m not going to give any favorite points to Isabella, I don’t know what else will.” Selina’s gaze was hard as coal on Bella but her smile was wide, her expression catering to the other contestants. “I’ve been involved with the pageant for the last decade, and I assure you my integrity is impeccable.”
Several of the contestants mumbled around Bella but she ignored them. All she cared about was the ability to stay in the pageant. She’d barely gotten here and now was threatened with removal because Holden had walked around the stage one too many times. He really needed to chill out with the security-guard routine. She’d talk to him later about it.
“Let’s keep the rehearsal going. If any decisions need to be made about our judges or contestants, we’ll take care of it at the pageant board level. And from my perspective, there is no conflict of interest here. Let’s begin again. Selina, from the top.” Señora Rosenstein, whom Bella still saw as her Spanish teacher and not a member of the Ms. Mustang Valley board, tapped her phone and the auditorium was filled with the sounds of seventies disco. The group re-formed into place and for the next hour went through step after step, turn after turn, working the opening number to look like a dance routine from that era. Bella thought it was a lame way to open a pageant but her expertise was reporting, not gyrating the way Selina suggested they all do.
She noticed one of the lighting techs, Ben, off to the side, watching them. He was always sure with a smile, a quick hello. Nothing to concern her, but she made a mental note to mention it to Holden later. Maybe they needed to add Ben to her short list of Señora Rosenstein and Selina Barnes Colton. Everyone was a suspect until the killer was caught.
The music and routine soon became rote and Bella was able to observe each contestant around her, as well as the judges and board members who were present, watching every lift and spin. Somewhere among them was the person or persons who had conjured up the requirements that the winner of Ms. Mustang Valley be impossibly thin, and able to wear a size Bella last saw in middle school, if ever.
“Remember to make eye contact with the judges and smile!” Selina’s raspy voice sounded over the music, the microphone taped to her cheek a bit overdone as far as Bella was concerned. Who was the star of the show, the contestants or this demanding woman known for her willingness to shove whomever she had to out of her way to maintain the spotlight?
“Watch it, Colton.” It was Bella’s only warning before her knees slammed to the floor, thanks to a well-placed leg that tripped her forward. Bella scrambled back up and looked at her bully, whose face was straight ahead as if nothing had happened. Recognition washed over her. Becky Hoskins, her high school nemesis.
“Hey, I’m in the same place as you, Becky. Just trying to win the scholarship.” Her mental list of suspects grew to four with Becky’s nasty attitude. The woman had bullied both her and Gio in high school. What did they say about bullies—that they rarely changed? But did it mean they became killers?
“Sure you are. We heard your pity story yesterday but give me a break. I’ve never heard of a poor Colton.” Becky’s mean-girl attitude hadn’t improved since tenth grade. Even her physical appearance was the same; she was a slim brunette with her hair tied up in a high ponytail and exaggerated eyeliner.
The music abruptly ended and the stage was filled with the sound of labored breathing and shuffling feet.
“Hey, in the back, do you two want out of the pageant? Because we can arrange that, pronto.”
“Selina’s such a—”
“We’re fine, Selina. Just making sure we get the steps right.” Bella spoke up, knowing that Selina wasn’t paying attention to anyone but herself as Bella danced through the number like a pro. Holden stood at the back of the stage and she risked a look back at him. He didn’t move a muscle but the sparkle in his eyes conveyed that he was enjoying the show. Heat
that had nothing to do with the physical exertion of the last hour crept up her throat, her cheeks; and her backside warmed where she imagined Holden’s gaze.
This was not the ideal way to conduct an investigation, or to stay focused on being safe as she’d promised Holden. Not to mention the pact she had with her brothers to always pay attention and be aware of her surroundings. They’d made the promise to one another after their parents died because of their father’s reckless driving. Their dad hadn’t been known as a great guy; in fact, he’d not made much of himself and had made their mother’s life miserable. And theirs. No way was Bella ever going to let her brothers down. Their bond had gotten them all a long way from sad days living under Aunt Amelia’s thumb.
“Don’t make us stop again. Everyone, take ten and be back here ready to go another hour.” Selina’s order broke through her conscience inventory and the other Colton woman walked off the stage as if she’d completed a solo dance routine on Broadway, but when she was on the floor in front of Bella she waggled her finger. “Isabella, come with me.”
Don’t go anywhere alone with anyone.
Holden’s words echoed in her mind as she slowly walked to exit the stage. What was she going to do if Selina wanted a private talk elsewhere? It would be too obvious for Holden to follow them. Maybe he was right and she should have carried her weapon. But where would she holster it? There wasn’t a concealing place on her as she wore yoga tights and tank top.
Selina stopped a few rows into the theater seats and faced Bella. Relief relaxed Bella’s muscles but she tried to at least look halfway interested in what her distant, nonblood relative was about to say.
“What do you need, Selina?”
“I’ll tell you what I need, Izzy.” Selina’s disdainful use of a childish name might have been unintentional, but it sounded mean. “I need you to back off and be quiet. There’s no way I’m ever going to show any favoritism toward you. Got it?”