by Geri Krotow
“She means she’ll give them the Marcie dressing-down.” Delilah sprinkled more vinegar on her greens and mixed it all with her plastic fork. “When Marcie gets going, no one’s immune.”
Marcie giggled and Bella discreetly expelled a breath. Still, she’d have to mention it to Holden. She knew a serial killer could come across as normal. Charming, even.
“I hope it doesn’t come down to you telling someone off.” Marcie’s story had also been touching, about how she wanted to go to the community college to earn a business degree so that she could expand her hair styling job into her own salon.
“It won’t. What I didn’t say when we were giving our reasons for running for Ms. Mustang Valley is that I escaped an abusive marriage five years ago. I’d planned to go to school and had saved the money, in fact, from taking every extra wedding and prom appointment possible for over three years. My ex took the money and blew it in the casino, and on drugs.”
“I’m so sorry, Marcie, that’s awful.” Bella reached across the table and grasped her hand.
“Delilah helped me get out of my house when my ex was at work.”
So that explained the friendly bond she sensed between Delilah and Marcie.
“And you helped me when I was sick.”
Guilt sucker punched Bella. “I knew you both in high school but never took the time to get to know you better. I wish I had.”
“You didn’t need anyone—you had your brothers, and you were always with Gio. We were all in awe of how protective your brothers were of you.”
“I never saw it that way, but it makes sense now. I could have used more girlfriends, as my aunt was difficult at best. But you’re right, I was tight with Gio.” Darn it if her voice didn’t hitch.
“I was so sad when she passed, Bella.” Marcie’s eyes moistened and reflected compassion. “She was such a sweet soul.”
Delilah nodded. “Gio talked me off the ledge more than once. I get stage fright and if not for her I wouldn’t still be competing. She was a doll.”
“You mentioned earlier that you think Ms. Mustang Valley is like other pageants as far as encouraging the contestants to stay ‘healthy.’ As in, skinny. Has any other pageant ever suggested to you or someone you competed with that you need to lose weight? I’m trying to keep my mouth shut but I have to admit, with this being my first pageant, it’s annoying to have Selina tell me to watch my carbs.”
Marcie and Delilah exchanged knowing glances. Bella interpreted it as an understanding that she was clueless as to how the industry worked.
“Honey, when don’t pageants tell you how you need to look?” Delilah motioned at her lunch. “Do you think I really like this much arugula?”
Marcie giggled. “I ignore it, as you can see.” She nodded at her almost empty bowl of cold pasta salad. “The truth is that most local pageants aren’t about physical beauty as much as they are about talent and aspirations.”
“Except for Ms. Mustang Valley.” Delilah’s voice lowered dramatically. Bella’s stomach tightened and the hair on her nape rose. She recognized it as her reporter’s intuition.
“What do you mean?” She tried to make light of cleaning up her lunch refuse, not wanting either woman to hold back.
Delilah’s brow rose. “It’s known in Arizona pageant circles to be the worst as far as physical judging goes. And for some insane reason, the women who began their pageant careers with Ms. Mustang Valley hold it up as the holy grail, the one pageant that will make the biggest difference in their lives.”
Interesting, but not enough to frame her article. “That makes sense since it’s the only one that offers a full four-year scholarship to MVCC.” MVCC was the largest community college in the area and boasted almost two dozen four-year career degree programs, while most just offered associate’s degrees for two years of study. She’d discovered how much the college had expanded since she’d graduated from high school when she’d done her preliminary research for the Ms. Mustang Valley contest. And almost wished she had a chance of winning, so that she could have the thrill of giving the scholarship to the runner-up.
“It’s more than that.” Marcie’s expression was grave. “It’s almost as if they sign some kind of contract when they compete in this pageant.”
“We all do.” Bella had grimaced at some of the language, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared.
“No, not the contract you signed for this year’s Ms. Mustang Valley. They used to have to sign a lot more away, including any proceeds from commercial deals that came their way as a result of Ms. Mustang Valley, even if they didn’t win.”
“Isn’t that standard?”
“Not at all, not anymore.” Delilah kept her voice low. “There was a contestant one year in the same contest as Gio, Marcie and me, at the Ms. Saguaro Cactus pageant. She didn’t win the crown but did receive a contract to appear in a national ad campaign for toothpaste—she had the brightest smile! At first she was so excited that she’d be making enough to not only put herself through college but her two sisters. Until—”
“Until the Ms. Mustang Valley contacted her and reminded her that she’d signed away rights to any monies when she’d entered her first contest, the Ms. Mustang Valley the year before.” Marcie hadn’t been able to contain herself, apparently, as she interrupted Delilah.
“How long ago was this?”
“Almost ten years now, I’d say.”
Bella did the mental math. She wasn’t positive but she was pretty certain Gio’s first pageant had been Ms. Mustang Valley. And the way Gio had emphasized that the evidence of misdeeds was in the paperwork to this particular contest was interesting, but again, not enough to form a true exposé.
“You don’t look like you believe us,” Delilah spoke up.
“I absolutely believe you. I’m trying to match it with what Gio told me.” On this, at least, she could be totally up-front with the women.
“You mean Gio signed one of those first contracts?” Marcie’s face scrunched with puzzlement. “I don’t remember her ever getting a contract related to the pageant.”
“I’m not talking about that, but there was one advertising deal that Gio landed years ago. I’m wondering if something at the Ms. Mustang Valley Pageant, or someone, forced Gio to begin an unhealthy pattern of behavior that led to her eating disorder.”
“If you’re looking for that, just look around, Bella.” Delilah seemed frustrated. “As much as Marcie said the pageants don’t care about that impossible beach-body look, Ms. Mustang Valley winners are always very thin and fit a certain profile.”
“Like what?”
Marcie nodded. “Yeah, Delilah’s right. I’ve never known anyone with an ounce of extra weight to win this pageant.”
“Yet they might win other Arizona pageants, but owe this pageant any financial gains?” Anger surged, making Bella hot and cold all at once. Was this why Gio had never treated herself after landing a lucrative contract that included her face on the bottle of a popular beach-hair-care product? Gio had won the contract from the Ms. Mustang Valley pageant the year she’d been a runner-up for the crown, before the MVCC scholarship had become the sole award. Had she not seen any of the proceeds? As her best friend, Bella felt she should know, but she and Gio didn’t talk about their finances much, if at all. Would Gio’s parents know?
The implication that Ms. Mustang Valley had contributed much to Gio’s pain was clear to Bella, but it still wasn’t enough for her report.
“If you’re trying to find out why Gio had an eating disorder, that’s complicated, honey.” Delilah spoke with authority. “I’ve been there myself, and trust me, it’s not a black-and-white situation. Sure, the pageant might encourage a smaller physique, but it always boils down to personal choice.”
“Does it, though?” Bella wasn’t going to let this sit. “Just as someone with cancer doesn’t have a choice about gettin
g it, the person with the eating disorder doesn’t have a choice in how their brain chemistry works. If they’re encouraged to lose weight in an unhealthy manner, it can trigger a latent tendency.” Bella agreed, and saw that combined with not receiving all the money due her from the hair product ad, Gio had myriad reasons to fall into a depression.
“Right. So how can you prove that the pageant caused anyone’s body dysmorphia or bulimia or anorexia?” Marcie stood. “We have to get back to the stage.”
Bella threw her napkin into her paper bag. “It just sounds odd to me, is all. That the contestants of Ms. Mustang Valley have a higher rate of reported eating disorders than any other pageant in the state.”
As soon as she spoke, she realized she’d gone too far. Either woman or both could easily see that she was investigating the pageant. Yet neither so much as batted a false eyelash as they made their way through the wide, dark high school corridors lined with lockers, back to the staff room and attached backstage. Bella supposed they were back in their mental game, rehearsing the dance steps and thinking about what they had to do next to secure the top spot.
They were near the last turn toward the staff room when a locker door burst open and a huge boom sounded with a bright white flash, reverberating through the floor and Bella’s feet, landing her on her bottom next to Delilah and Marcie, who had also been blown back.
Marcie’s scream sounded far away, more like a squeal, but with her ears ringing and almost blinded by the flash, all Bella could think about was getting away from the explosion.
“This way!” Delilah grabbed both of their arms, tugged them back, away from what Bella now saw was a large cloud. Too late, she realized it was more than an explosion—there was a cloud of something hanging in the air and her eyes began to sting. They’d been gassed.
* * *
Holden heard the explosion at the same moment he saw the locker spring open. He’d been trailing the women on their way back from the cafeteria, annoyed that Bella had gone so far away from the main group all for the sake of her story. Nothing was worth her safety, not when she was the target of a serial killer.
He saw the filmy cloud appear from the locker and immediately went into biohazard-emergency mode.
“Don’t breathe—hold your breath!” He did the same as he raced toward them, reaching the three just as Marcie’s body hit the deck. Bella had scrambled to her feet and begun to run away, along with Delilah, and he pointed toward the end of the hallway as he held his breath and threw Marcie over his shoulder. His eyes burned and teared but he had only to get them to the exit doors, approximately one hundred feet away, and out into the fresh air.
His entire focus should be on the safety of everyone but all he felt in the moment was relief that Bella was okay, or at least would be, once clear of the detonation site. He’d never had such a visceral reaction to a citizen he was supposed to be protecting before.
They barreled through the double doors and an alarm immediately sounded, which he knew would summon MVPD.
Marcie began to cough and sputter as he lowered her to the ground, and Bella immediately supported the woman around her shoulders, squatting down to Marcie’s level.
“You’re okay, hon. Let it out.” Bella looked up at Holden and he wanted to take the anxiety, fear and anger from her. But he couldn’t, no one could, until they found the perpetrator. He didn’t even know if this was the same criminal who’d attacked Bella, or if it was also the serial killer.
The case grew more tangled with each incident. Not unlike his feelings for the woman whose beseeching glance tore at his insides.
“Are you okay, Bella? Delilah?” He checked each response, and nodded at Marcie. “I’m pretty sure it was tear gas. You’ll feel better the longer you’re away from it.” As he spoke, he became aware of the hot sun beating down on all of them, the lack of breeze. “Let’s all move to under the stadium seating.” The rest of the pageant contestants and board were pouring out of the staff room. He suspected the gas was tear gas, from all the reactions so far. It’d be difficult for anyone but the US military to obtain anything more toxic. But he wasn’t going to allow anyone near the detonation site until he was certain.
“Over here, under the bleachers.” He called to them and motioned toward where the other three huddled, in the shade. Sirens sounded and he figured he’d have backup in another minute.
As the women headed toward the football arena he called Spencer.
“Talk to me, Holden.”
“Detonation in a hallway locker, right near the staff room. Similar to a flashbang but it shot out of the locker so quickly I couldn’t assess it. Gas, most likely tear gas, followed. Bella and two other contestants were the targets. Marcie was knocked out from the percussion but is coming around. Bella and Delilah are safe, and I’m about to take a head count. Send the EMTs to the football stadium. I’ve directed all evacuees to head under the bleachers for shade.”
“We’re turning into the school now. Talk to you on-site.” Spencer disconnected as Holden spotted the first of the several response vehicles he expected.
Holden counted the personnel as they exited the building. All were accounted for save one. He counted again, matched faces to names, and his stomach sank. While Leotard Lady, real name Debra Juarez, was back, and looking quite shaken, another one of the contestants was missing.
Chapter 12
“Anybody see Becky?” He’d memorized the list and knew the woman who’d given Bella a hard time earlier, about being a Colton, was the missing person. So far, she fit the profile of the killer more than his other suspects, but his training kept him from jumping to any conclusions about anyone.
Selina Colton shook her head, walking over to him. “No, and I haven’t seen her since before our lunch break. She and Bella, Marcie and Delilah are missing.”
“Bella, Delilah and Marcie are under the bleachers. Marcie’s going to need medical attention. Stay with them and wait there for the police and EMTs.”
For once Selina didn’t argue and walked off toward the rest of the group.
Holden called Spencer.
“I’ve got to go back inside to find Becky. She’s the missing person. The rest of the pageant contestants, and the board, are at the football field bleachers.”
“Wait for backup, Holden.”
“I can’t—she could be unconscious.” Or worse, if the serial killer had something to do with this. Spencer knew it, too. “You’re right behind me, anyhow.”
“We are. I’ll send a team into the school, through the doors you exited. You take the stage and staff room, until we get there. Be careful, Holden. This guy’s playing for keeps.”
“Roger.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket and drew his weapon. The side stage exit door was still wide open and he made sure to prop it with a wedge he found just inside the door. The more air that got into the building, the better. He didn’t notice any fire related to the explosion, so that was one stroke of luck in all of this.
It didn’t take long to clear the stage and auditorium, followed by the staff room. He didn’t go back into the hallway where the tear gas could still linger, as the door between the staff room and corridor was closed and had left the staff room behind the stage clear. Whoever had rigged the locker knew enough to enable a remote detonation. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist but this criminal wasn’t unintelligent, either.
Still no sign of Becky, though. There were two spots left, the steps that were used to access below stage for special effects, and the deepest places backstage, where all that normally stood were old props. Holden circled back to them, checking every niche behind the long stage curtains, weapon held in front of him. Satisfied that no one remained on the stage, he crept to the small stairwell nestled at the far right backstage.
And found Becky, her brunette ponytail askew, lying still at the bottom of the seven steps.
* * *
>
“Drink up, everyone.” The EMTs handed out bottles of cold water and Bella gratefully gulped from hers. Marcie was being attended to, and she and Delilah had checked out okay as did the rest of the pageant members.
Except Becky.
“I should have waited until we were all together before we left the stage,” Selina verbally berated herself. Selina faced off with Bella. “Did you push her?”
Her words hit Bella in her gut and it took every ounce of her self-control to not verbally lash out at Selina.
“How dare you accuse me! Was it you?” Selina’s eyes widened and if she had talons, Bella knew the other woman would have dug them into her. Bella waved her hands in a surrender gesture before Selina’s fury erupted.
“Forget I said that. You and I couldn’t have hurt Becky, am I right? None of us could have known what happened to Becky—we were nowhere near the backstage stairs, not one of us, right?” Bella made eye contact with each person in the group, contestants and judges alike, as they stood around in a wide circle, eager to hear the dialogue between her and Selina. One by one, they each looked at the person next to them, and shook their head in confirmation that they’d been together. Within a minute, everyone had been accounted for and determined to be nowhere near the backstage doors at the time of the explosion.
Bella nodded. “Exactly. None of us is to blame. It was more important to get everyone out of the building after the explosion than to go back and search. That had to be left to the professionals.” Bella hoped Selina got the hint. Bella had no time for her drama. The murderer was giving them enough of it. She knew Holden wouldn’t say it was the serial killer for certain, but she had no doubt it was, even though Becky’s hair didn’t fit the profile. Only hers did, with the red highlights. Why would anyone else put the pageant through all of this? And wouldn’t an explosion be the perfect way to distract everyone, especially Holden, enough to kidnap one of the contestants?
