by Geri Krotow
Bella got it, all right. But she couldn’t say anything, not outright, not as a contestant, and certainly not while so many pageant personnel were listening.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression of expecting anything other than impartiality, Selina. Trust me, I’d never expect special treatment from you. I’m from the other side of the Coltons, remember?”
“How dare you question how I got where I am.” Selina’s nostrils flared and it wasn’t particularly attractive on her already overly made-up face. No amount of contour cream could erase her ugly expression, stamped with anger. “I’ve earned every bit of my current status. Check the Colton Oil stock value. It’s quadrupled since I was appointed to the board, and my PR skills are second to none in Arizona. You know how I got here? Hard work and brains. You should try it yourself, Ms. Mustang Valley Gabber.”
Bella bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out that she wasn’t here as just another contestant and that Payne had given Selina an in at Colton Oil. “Reporting is a noble and important job, whether it’s for the New York Times or the Mustang Valley Gabber. I’m not going to justify my career to you.”
“Just see that you don’t make the other girls think you have a leg up. Hmmph.” Selina walked away as if Bella was no more than a speck of dust she’d had to flick off her shoulder. It would have been satisfying to inform her that none of the contestants were girls, but full-grown, adult women. But she couldn’t risk getting kicked out of the pageant before she’d even begun to do her research.
Bella waited until the older woman was out of the auditorium before she headed for the staff room, where many of the contestants were sucking down water.
“What did she say to you, Colton?” One of the contestants sneered at her and Bella pasted the same smile she’d used with Selina on her face.
“She reminded me that this is a fair process and my last name has no effect on my scores.”
“Here you go, Bella.” Another, kinder contestant with dark hair offered her a water bottle from the refrigerator.
“Thanks.” The cold bottle felt great against her forehead, her nape.
“I’m Marcie.” She smiled, her patience and kindness a welcome respite from the cattiness of the morning.
“Bella.”
“Don’t let them get to you.” Marcie unscrewed her water top.
“Who do you mean by them?”
“The ones who never make it to the top, but manage to ruin every pageant experience they possibly can. Like Selina. She used to compete, years ago, but never got any farther than Mustang Valley.”
“How do you handle it, all the criticism?”
“I remember why I’m here. I need the scholarship.” She was beautiful, with cornflower-blue eyes. “It’s unlikely I’ll get it this year, or even next, but my dance routine for the talent portion keeps improving and I get more confident with each try.”
Bella wondered if this woman knew Gio, but she’d met most of Gio’s pageant friends over the years, all of whom had dropped out by age twenty-five or so. Marcie appeared too young to have run with that crowd.
“How long have you been in pageants?” Bella worked at sounding casual, as if she needed a friend in this tough competition. What she really needed was a good source on the inside.
Marcie’s gaze shifted up and to the left as she thought. “Mmm, about three years now. I started right after high school. I’ve got a great job with Mustang Valley Health First, the insurance company. But I want to do more. Like you, I’d like to become a nurse, or even a physician’s assistant.”
“Couldn’t you apply for a scholarship through your workplace?” As soon as she asked, Bella bit the inside of her cheek. Marcie could throw the question back at her.
You’re a contestant. How did Holden do undercover work all the time? It was one thing to pose as a pageant competitor for this piece, where everyone knew she was also a blogger. But Holden had to pretend to be something he absolutely wasn’t. And he’d had to take guff from Selina Colton, the wicked witch of Arizona from all accounts.
Marcie shook her head. “My company only pays fifty percent of tuition. I need to support my mom and younger siblings. My father died two years ago and my mom has MS. She just had a flare so it’s been a rough year. I can’t afford to lose the hours at work right now.” Bella reminded herself that she’d give the scholarship to the runner-up if she found herself in the unlikely position of being crowned Ms. Mustang Valley.
“How are you managing work with the pageant?”
“We’re lucky that all the rehearsals and practices are on the weekends and evenings.”
Still, doing the mental math and comparing her own heavy work schedule to Marcie’s, Bella knew it was a major effort to handle both.
“Don’t look now, but you’ve got a sexy guy heading your way.” Before she could reply, Marcie slinked off and Bella turned.
“Can I have a word with you?” Holden’s presence filled up the room, or maybe it was her impression only. The rest of the women continued chatting and comparing notes on the day’s routine.
“Sure.” Was he going to say something about the obvious chemistry between them? She’d felt his gaze on her through the entire morning routine, and now, this close to him her skin tingled with his nearness.
This all had to be due to the high school building. It was saturated with the hormones and pheromones of students past and present, affecting her reaction to Holden.
She followed him out of the staff room and onto the stage, but in the far back, behind the heavy black curtains.
“It’s stuffy back here.” She made a show of tugging at her tank top, and immediately hated herself for it. Now was not the time to go all girly on Holden.
“What did Selina say to you?”
Sadly, her instinct was on-target. Holden hadn’t drawn her away for a quick romantic rendezvous. She ignored the rush of disappointment and let her arms drop to her sides.
“I’m surprised you weren’t able to hear the show she put on for everyone. She made it clear that I’m not getting any special favors for being a Colton.” She snorted. “I never have, for the record.”
“We’ll talk about that later. The next time someone asks to speak to you privately, make sure I’m within earshot.”
“You’re saying you weren’t?”
“I couldn’t get there soon enough without blowing my cover, or looking like a stalker. I saw you talking, though, and trust me, if I had to get in a shot, I would have.”
A chill ran up her spine and it was hard to ascertain if it was fear, awe of his ability to talk about something so deadly with ease, or her unrelenting sexual attraction to him. Bella didn’t like mixed romantic signals, even from herself.
“Good to know.” She looked at him and his eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I’ve added two people to my suspect list. Becky, one of the contestants, bullied both Gio and me in tenth grade. Her attitude hasn’t changed. Selina’s insistence on running the practices, even though there’s a professional choreographer assigned to the numbers seems odd to me. And then, another person caught my attention. It’s probably nothing, but one of the lighting techs, Ben, is always smiling at all the women, and he watches us from the side of the stage. I thought lighting techs were supposed to be up on the scaffolding, or in the tech booth?”
“I’ve noticed him, too. I’m keeping an eye on him, and the other techs, as well. Trust me, Bella. Trust me enough to do as I ask.”
“Okay.” A warm sense of belonging filled her. But to what? Holden? She hardly knew him.
You know him better than a lot of people.
A series of claps sounded from the other side of the curtain.
“Break time is over, ladies. Back at it now, please.” The announcement sounded far off, as the speakers for the school’s address system hun
g facing the theater seats, away from the stage.
“I need to go.” She turned away from him, toward stage right.
“Bella, wait.” His hands grasped her forearms and she sighed.
“What?” Exasperation tinged her voice and she didn’t care. “I’ve got to get back without anyone seeing me near you.”
“Which is why you need to circle back the other way.” He tugged and she expected him to move to the side and let her pass through the curtained tunnel, toward the waiting group. Instead he allowed her momentum to bring their bodies against one another.
Shock of the best kind reverberated from where her breasts flattened against his chest, down to her belly, which settled on his pelvis. He let go of her arms and waited, let her decide the next move.
Bella had experienced her fair share of relationships, had enjoyed the occasional surprise kiss with an attractive man. But no other man made her heartbeat do the tango before he’d ever touched her. She did the next practical thing and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her lips to his.
With zero hesitation she was immediately in the embrace of a man whose passion ran deep, if his kiss was any indication. His lips were firm and decisive, his tongue’s masterful strokes leaving no question about his intent.
Holden wanted her.
His hands were on her buttocks, lifting her up and to him, and Bella couldn’t get close enough to his hard arousal. She pulled back from the most delicious kiss of her life but before she could speak Holden’s cheek was against hers, his moist breath against her ear.
“It’s not one-way, Bella. We both want it. But it can’t happen, not now, not here.” A quick soft kiss to her cheek and he turned her around and gently nudged her toward her destination.
* * *
The kiss was his best mistake to date, one he couldn’t do the postmortem on until the case was over, the killer behind bars. Holden was grateful for the backstage darkness as he’d needed a few minutes to settle himself after that scorching thirty seconds in Bella’s arms.
He agreed with Bella that the suspect pool was widening. But he knew from experience they could still be on the wrong scent. Was Bella’s attacker someone they hadn’t considered yet, someone protecting the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant?
He couldn’t call in to headquarters while he was monitoring the pageant practice. Frustrating, but a reality of his job.
When he got back to the stage area he counted the contestants and came up one short.
Leotard lady.
He immediately swung back around toward the restrooms, thinking she’d taken a quick run before Selina began her drill-sergeant tactics again. But seeing a blonde woman speaking intently to Bella stopped him. It was Leigh, a known member of the Affirmation Alliance, a local group Spencer suspected of shady practices—maybe even a cult. His pulse hammered at his temples as his protective instinct surged. Bella was vulnerable at the moment, having been attacked only yesterday and then having her home invaded by him, Spencer and Jarvis last night. Add MVPD’s forensics team working outside, and it could only add to her stress. He took a couple of steps toward the group, then stopped. It would be too obvious to interrupt their conversation now. He’d have to catch Bella at lunch and warn her.
As he kept an eye on Bella and Leigh, he understood how people were attracted to the Affirmation Alliance. Their motto of “be your best you” and the promise of no more worries about anything but success would be tempting to anyone, but especially someone who was in a slump, whether it was due to work, health, or a combination of both. But it was too perfect, offering life satisfaction simply by joining the group. It had all the makings of a cult. Leigh might appear sincere, and maybe she was, but her repeated vacuous statements gave him the creeps. It didn’t hurt that Leigh was the perfect image of a blonde bombshell with her platinum hair in curvy lengths around her porcelain, doll-like face, and her curvaceous figure would turn any guy’s head.
Except Holden’s. He seemed to only have eyes for a certain redhead these days, and worse, she was a reporter.
Chapter 11
“Okay, that’s a wrap for the morning.” Selina spoke with suffocating authority. She held up her hand. “Hang on a minute, though. I have an announcement from the pageant board. The judges have agreed to allow Bella Colton to remain in the contest since she and I are not related at all, and you all can no doubt already ascertain that I’d never give anyone an unfair advantage. You’re all on the same level playing field here.”
Several murmurs and a snide glance from Becky played out. Bella remained still, refusing to give in to Becky’s emotional immaturity.
Selina clapped her hands together as if applauding herself. “That’s that. You have forty-five minutes for lunch, ladies. May I remind you that there are only two weeks until you walk across this stage for the last time, with one of you garnering the crown of Ms. Mustang Valley. Ask yourself if the extra carbs are worth it, my friends.”
If Bella had a coconut cream pie in hand she’d plant it on Selina’s face. Bella could ignore that the woman was bossing her way around, shoving the choreographer to the side so that she could run the show, so to speak. But the admonishment to basically starve themselves was over the top. Was this how it all started, with a committee member basically telling the pageant contestants not to eat?
“I’m hungry. How about you, Marcie?”
Marcie blinked. “I’m always hungry. But you heard Selina. No pain, there will be a lot of gain.” The petite woman looked down woefully at her rounded figure. “If I even look at a slice of bread I gain weight.”
“That’s not true, Marcie. We all need good nutrition. We’re burning a ton of calories with all of this prancing around. C’mon.”
Marcie’s shorter legs hurried to keep up with Bella, who headed for the staff room. She had her heart set on devouring the turkey on rye she’d packed at zero-dark-thirty this morning.
“Mind if I join you?” Delilah, a willowy platinum blonde, fell into step behind them. “There are some scary ladies in this crowd, let me tell you.”
“How do you know we’re not two of them?” Bella couldn’t help but wonder why the stunning woman who’d given the best reason for needing the scholarship would be intimidated by any other contestant.
“Trust me—I’ve competed against almost everyone here at one time or another. The nicest people can become ugly when so much money is at stake.” Bella admired Delilah’s composure and pragmatism. She’d given a heartrending speech about having survived cancer as a child, and needing the scholarship so that she could become a pediatric oncology nurse, her dream job. She’d not been able to attend college right after high school as her family needed her to go to work right away when her father became one-hundred-percent disabled in a mining accident.
“Tell me something, ladies. Does this pageant always encourage its contestants to starve?” Bella had to take this chance to get some answers.
Marcie shook her head. “I don’t think they’re telling us to starve.”
“All pageants suggest eating healthy food, getting rid of the processed.” Delilah shrugged. “It’s not unique to Ms. Mustang Valley.”
“Huh.” Bella tried to appear mollified but her mind was doing cartwheels. This added credence to her thoughts that while she was certain Ms. Mustang Valley hadn’t helped Gio in anyway, it might not be factual to state that this particular pageant had caused Gio’s illness. As with all investigative reporting, she had to accept what appeared to be truth, not bend the facts to her opinion. It didn’t make it easy, for sure. Not when Gio had suffered so much.
The other two women took Bella’s silence as a sign the conversation was over and they all agreed to take their lunches to the school cafeteria and eat together at one of the long metal tables. A few of the other contestants were there, too, but sat separately and far enough away that conversations couldn’t be overheard.
/> Bella saw Holden from the corner of her eye as he first walked around the cafeteria, checked the exterior doors to make sure they were locked and then lingered in the kitchen area which was visible through the various windows for different food services. It made her feel safe but also concerned her. What if the killer went after someone else while Holden’s attention was on her?
“We know one another and have been through what, Marcie, five or six pageants together?” Delilah opened her bag to reveal a huge bowl of lettuce and not a lot else. Looking at the rabbit feast made Bella’s stomach rumble.
“Seven if you count the Ms. Mustang Valley Holiday short pageant last year.”
Delilah laughed. “When you decorated sugar cookies as your talent.”
Marcie groaned and looked at Bella. “It was a total disaster. I thought it’d be easy-peasy. I bought several premade, plain cookies that were shaped like cacti. My plan was to paint them green for Christmas and blue and white for Chanukah, then add appropriately colored sprinkles.”
“And?” Bella sipped her water.
“And she didn’t realize that someone had put her frosting in the freezer the night before.”
“Why would they do that?”
“So that I couldn’t spread the frosting quickly, as you can imagine I needed to when we only have three minutes for our talent portion. It was awful. The cookies crumbled under the globs of sticky frosting that behaved more like a big, marshmallowy mess.” Marcie’s distress was still evident in the downturn of her mouth.
“I’m sorry, Marcie. It’s hard doing the talent, I take it.”
“It’s not about the talent part, or that I failed miserably. What still makes my blood boil is that someone sabotaged me. I’ve never done anything to keep another contestant from doing her best. It’s not my style.” Marcie’s cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled. “If I ever figure out who it was, they’ll be sorry.”
Bella’s hand froze over the bag of potato chips she’d brought as a side dish to her sandwich. “What do you mean?”