Leave Tomorrow Behind (Stella Crown Series) (21 page)

The room relaxed into excited buzzy chatter while the three judges put their heads together, sharing scorecards and, I assume, their favorite candidates. Valerie seemed to be making a case for someone, with lots of gesturing and serious pointing at scorecards. It was hard to tell what the other judges were thinking, but they were at least listening. I wished I was a fly on that table, and believe me, being at the fair, no one would think twice about a fly hanging around.

Nick bumped me with his shoulder. “Why are you glaring at the judge’s table?”

“I’m not glaring.”

“Are so,” Miranda said.

“Are you a part of this conversation?”

“Well, excuse me. I was part of the deception, or whatever that was with Ms. Springfield before the pageant. I deserve to know what’s going on.”

I hated it when she was right. “I’m studying them, okay? I’m trying to read their minds. Or Valerie’s mind, anyway. From the text I saw, Gregg is expecting her to ‘Do her job.’ ” I explained what I was thinking, and how I wasn’t sure why he would care about a teenage girls’ pageant so much he would resort to cheating. But then, cheating was sort of his thing, wasn’t it?

Before Nick and Miranda could respond, the girls were back, re-dressed in their formal gowns, to stand on their pedestals. I watched the judges, and it seemed like they were giving Taylor special glances, but I could have been reading into it. I supposed they could have been giving other girls looks, too. None of the three judges seemed especially happy about the decision they’d had to make. The tall woman looked hard at Valerie, shared a meaningful glance with the other guy—although I didn’t know what it meant—and marked up a piece of paper, folding it and holding it up toward the emcee.

“The judges are prepared to reveal their decision!” the emcee chirped, as if nothing in the world could be any more exciting. She flounced over to grab the paper, but I wasn’t really watching her. I was watching as the blood drained from Valerie’s face. She was obviously doing her best to keep it together, but her eyes were darting all around, mostly toward the back of the building, where—gee, what a surprise—Gregg had slipped back in, along with his thugs. Why on earth did he care so much about this stupid contest?

“We want to thank all of the contestants who participated today. Our county is blessed with an abundance of beautiful and talented young women, and today proved that once again. Let’s give a hand to everyone up here on the stage.”

The audience applauded, and the girls up front tried to smile and act like the next five minutes weren’t going to change their lives—which is a sad statement, isn’t it? Taylor was the only one who seemed relaxed and natural, but then, that would be natural, wouldn’t it, if she expected to win because the judging was rigged? Wouldn’t she be surprised when it was revealed that she wouldn’t come out the winner? At least, that’s what I suspected from Valerie’s behavior, smiling at Taylor’s performance and now so worried. But why was she arguing with the other judges? Could they really not see how much better Taylor was than all of the others?

I swear, I would never understand this world.

Summer, the medical miracle—or should I say, experiment—smiled her hideous smile and thrust her chest out to the Atlantic. I wondered just how many brain cells made their home in that head of hers. Looking at her next to those other girls, how could she possibly think she had even a ghost of a chance?

The emcee opened the paper and glanced at it, getting her bearings. “Our third runner-up today hails from the town of Westbrook, where she is a junior at the local high-school.”

It was easy to see who that was, because the girl’s shoulders slumped about a mile before manners kicked back in, and she smiled and straightened. The emcee announced her name, and the girl went forward to receive her banner and wave at the audience. Her disappointment at not winning seemed almost more than she could bear, since her lips trembled, and her eyes shone with tears. Good grief. She should be happy she placed. A bunch of the other girls, in a few moments, would do anything to trade places with her rather than be relegated to the losers.

The emcee announced the second runner-up, who was much more gracious, and actually seemed excited, like she hadn’t expected to place at all. She smiled big-time, and waved and blew kisses.

Nick patted my leg, and I realized how tense I’d become. I relaxed, and let my neck droop. What was I so anxious about, anyway?

“And now, for our first runner-up and alternate. She will step into the role of the county’s winner, should the crowned Lovely Miss winner be unable to perform her duties for any reason. What a privilege and honor. To fill this role for her county and the Lovely Miss organization, please congratulate our first runner-up, Summer Moss!”

There was a pregnant pause, which I felt in my own gut, and then the applause began gradually, until most people were clapping. Summer’s mom sat in the front row, mouth gaping, face red. She really had expected Summer to win. She really had thought all that surgery and cosmetic warfare was going to gain her daughter the title. She was apparently so stunned by the turn of events she couldn’t clap.

But then, Summer was apparently so deaf, she couldn’t hear. She still stood on her pedestal, smiling and looking around like her name hadn’t been called.

“Summer?” The emcee waited until Summer turned her way. “Are you coming down?”

Summer blinked, and then her brow furrowed. Or, it would have, if she still had any flexibility in her face. “Are you talking to me?”

The emcee laughed. “Yes, dear, you are our first runner-up! Congratulations!”

“But…” Her mouth puckered into an O, and she looked out at her mother. “What is she saying?”

“Come on, Summer,” the emcee said, a little stronger. “Come receive your banner.”

When she still didn’t move, the emcee glanced offstage, and one of the helpers came up, took Summer’s elbow, and led her to the front of the stage.

“Congratulations, Summer. You represented both your town and your county very well.” Better than expected, was what she should have said, seeing how she was a work of science, not unlike the bionic man. Except she wasn’t, well, a hero.

Summer blinked rapidly, frightening small children in the front row, and stood like a statue as she accepted her banner, which announced she was the First Runner-Up. She looked down at it, where it bulged grotesquely over those pounds of fake flesh, and followed the helper robotically back to her place with the others.

“And now,” the emcee said, “it is time to crown our county’s Lovely Miss Pennsylvania winner. This contestant has proven herself to be everything the judges—and we all—look for in our young women. Strength of character, a desire to make the world a better place, and, of course, a lovely countenance to look upon. Please welcome this year’s winner, Taylor Troth!”

The girls up front simultaneously slumped and cheered, all now plenty aware that they were lacking in some fashion. Taylor herself looked about as stunned as Summer had, although on Taylor it was a lot more attractive. She accepted congratulations from the girls around her, and by the time she arrived at the front of the stage, she was smiling. The emcee placed a banner around her shoulders declaring her the winner, then set a sparkling silver tiara on her head.

Zach, Randy, and Bobby, along with Daniella and Amy and a good bunch of people sitting around them, stood up and hooted and hollered. Claire was the sole family member still in her seat. Her mom looked down and nudged her, and Claire finally got to her feet. Eventually, she clapped. And even smiled.

Taylor waved as music swelled, and television cameras rolled forward down the aisle to capture the moment. I glanced over at Valerie, and caught her giving a triumphant look toward the back of the building. But Gregg was gone, along with his entourage. I guessed there was no point in staying.

Mission accomplished.

For whatever reason.

Chapter Thirty-five

“Results are in,” Carla said. “It was exactly what we expected.”

She found me on the home phone. Nick, Miranda, and I had come back immediately after the pageant to avoid the dramatics, and I got to spend a spectacular evening doing nothing but farm stuff. Heaven. My tired brain struggled now to remember what Carla was talking about.

“The Greggs’ dairy cows,” she said.

Right. “Rotten food?”

“Practically toxic. We’re lucky the cows didn’t get hurt worse. And it was no wonder they acted like drunk old men.”

“They’ll be fine, though?”

“Sure. But they’re out of competition for the week, of course. Seeing how they missed their event today.”

“Well, there goes Gregg’s money down the toilet.”

She laughed. “He’ll probably just sell them. Or try again at next year’s fair.”

“If his girls still care. No, if he still cares. His girls are obviously already way over the whole thing.”

“Whatever, that’s not my concern. I’m just glad the cows are okay. And I’m praying nothing more happens.”

“If it’s about the Greggs, you should be out of it. They have no one else to threaten, if their events are over.”

“True.”

“No idea who did it, though?”

“None. It’s not like the cops could get fingerprints off a wooden stall. And who knows where the feed came from. The feed bin the Greggs were using had only their prints on it, and that feed was perfectly fine, so…” She yawned so loudly I could practically feel it. “A few more hours and I can go to bed, just to do it all again tomorrow. Tell me again why I agreed to this?”

“Because you had to go through it at least once. Now you’ll know to refuse if you ever get asked again.”

“You got it. Thanks again, Stella. I sure appreciate your having my back.”

“Anytime, Sister. And thank that man of yours, too. He’s the one who let me know what was happening.”

She paused. “Is there something wrong with your phone?”

“No, sounds fine on this end.”

“All right. It’s just, I could have sworn you said something nice about Bryan. Must be the phone line.”

“Hardy-har. Goodnight, Carla.”

She laughed, and hung up.

Talking to Carla about those results made me wonder what was happening with Rikki’s toxicology report, so I called Willard.

“Sorry,” I said, when he answered. “Did I wake you up?”

“Just from a sound sleep.”

“Did you hear anything yet?”

“I’m assuming you mean about Rikki Raines?”

“What else would I mean?”

“Stella.” He breathed into the phone. “Didn’t I tell you I’d call as soon as I heard anything?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then good night.” He hung up.

Whoops.

Chapter Thirty-six

Thursday dawned hot and muggy. As if there were any other kind of weather. The only plan I had, other than working around home, was to attend Zach’s showmanship judging in the afternoon. Until then, I puttered around the house, fixing things, mowing, and taking a late morning nap.

After lunch I headed to the fair. Since Nick was keen to stay home and get some work done, and Miranda had done all the bonding with me should could take—thank God—I suited up and took the Harley. When I got to the fair I found a safe spot in a corner where I stripped out of my leather and locked it in my saddlebags. I debated carrying my helmet with me, since it wouldn’t fit in the bags, but really didn’t want to drag it around, so I tucked it under the bike and hoped no one would be dumb enough to touch it. I considered leaving a note threatening bodily harm, but decided that could be taken the wrong way.

I grabbed a drink at the food tent, then settled in at the arena. Taylor, wearing her tiara and banner over a pink, cotton dress, sat in the front row, next to her mom and another woman I recognized as one of the pageant organizers. A very pouty Summer sat down the row next to her mother, who looked not so much pouty as disillusioned. Perhaps the whole thing would serve as a lesson to her, but I didn’t hold out much hope. It seemed a little late for that, since her brain had probably been affected by all of the chemicals shoved into her body.

Zach’s parents had made it to the arena this time, and I waved across at them, and the whole Granger clan, who had shown up. Corn must have been all done. Mallory and Brady were even there, sitting behind Jethro and Belle. Brady wore a t-shirt declaring SMASHMASTER RULES, but it was a little outdated, seeing how his friend had gotten knocked out in the first round of the combine demo. Oh, well. It was nice to know he wasn’t a fairweather friend.

The youngest classes of showmen went first, with the bucket calves, and the kids looked absolutely adorable in their whites. The whites weren’t exactly, well, white on all of them, but then what do you expect from eight-year-olds? I’m sure they kept as clean as they could. By the time Zach’s group came in, everything looked a lot more professional. Zach and Barnabas did terrific, as did Bobby and Laura. Austin was a no-show, which surprised me, but then, I supposed he was so freaked out from everything, it would have been impossible to focus. Plus, he’d as much as said he didn’t really care about winning that ribbon. The Gregg girl was also a no-show, which was only natural. All she could have done would have been to let her calf do its thing, since she didn’t have a clue. Gregg probably didn’t want to take a chance on losing, since she’d already won the ribbon that to him really mattered.

Loser.

One of the kids’ calves acted up during the judging, so the calf was switched out for another, better behaved one, since what was getting judged in this round was the showman, rather than the calf. The kid involved showed real poise as it all happened, so that had to go in her favor.

When the final lineup was announced, Randy and Laura both made the top ten, and Zach stood in the Reserve Champion spot. I was so proud of him, but he didn’t even look for me. Instead, he smiled at Taylor, who clapped and grinned like it was her victory, too. Wow. My little boy really was growing up.

I stayed in my seat for the dairy cow showmanship class, because both Claire and Bobby would be in that one. In this class, it didn’t matter the breed of your cow, but your age, so it was all mixed up with the Holsteins and Ayrshires and Guernseys. A bunch of gorgeous animals. Both Claire’s and Bobby’s cows behaved perfectly, and Claire again won Champion, with Bobby following at third place. This time, Claire gave a gracious smile, and even congratulated the Reserve Champion before breaking formation. I was glad to see her enjoying her win. Taylor stood and clapped as Claire walked out, and Claire smiled at her. Finally.

When judging was over, I made my way to the calf barn. Zach and Taylor were with Barnabas, placing his ribbon prominently on the stall. I held out my fist, and he bumped it.

“Awesome job, Zach. All of your hard work paid off, for sure.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He grinned. “Maybe next year you won’t get on me so much to get my other work done instead of spending time with Barnabas.”

“Oh, you think?”

He laughed, and gave Barnabas a pat. “We’ve gotta go. Taylor needs to make a bunch of appearances today.”

“Heavy weighs the crown.”

They both frowned. “Um, what?” Zach said.

“Nevermind. Have fun.”

They took off, Zach reaching to grab Taylor’s hand. Interesting.

“Where’d he go?” Jethro and Belle made it to the stall.

“Already gone,” I said. “Off with the new girlfriend.”

Belle’s eyebrows rose. “New what?”

“Oh, uh, he hasn’t mentioned her?”

She looked at Jethro, who smiled hugely. “That’s my boy.”

I laughed. “I gotta go talk to some more winners. See ya.”

I found Randy and Laura, who took a few seconds to accept my congratulations, then slipped over to the dairy barn. Bobby had already put up his ribbon, and Claire was in the middle of hanging hers—right next to the other ribbon she won.

“Decided to show them both, huh?” I said.

She looked down at me. “You were right. I should be proud of them. And of Breezy. She deserves for people to know how awesome she is.”

“Good girl.”

She smiled, and I continued across the barn, ending up at the Greggs’ empty stalls. It was a shame, the way the cows had been cut out from the judging. As Claire had just said, it certainly wasn’t the animals’ fault they were seen as cheaters, and they really were impressive to look at. But I couldn’t feel too sorry about the Gregg girls not receiving false rewards.

“They’re going to be okay.”

I started, and realized Mrs. Gregg stood next to me. She was clean again today, and her face had lost its redness, along with the puffy eyes. In fact, she looked much more relaxed than she had all week. I glanced around, ready for battle, but it seemed she was alone. Perhaps her reason for not being anxious and worried.

“The cows?” I said. “I’m glad.”

“Yes. It would have been such a shame if they’d been hurt. As it is…” She shrugged. “Things could have been a lot worse.”

“Yes. I guess they never did figure out who poisoned your cows, did they?”

She stared at the stalls for a few seconds, then closed her eyes, shaking her head, as if she just didn’t want to think about it anymore. “They never did. But it’s done now. The cows are gone, the fair’s almost over. I hope they let it rest.”

“It was a crime.”

“I know. But I’d like to just…move on.”

I guess I couldn’t blame her.

She gave me a pinched smile. “I came back to collect a few things. We’re done with these stalls now. Then we’ll just have Melody’s, over in the calf barn.”

“You think you’ll be back next year?”

She gazed at me, unblinking. “David says we could use these same cows again, but after everything that happened this year, I’ll try to convince him, somehow, that it’s over. Makes me a little sad, but everything needs to end sometime. I wish…” She shook her head.

“What?”

“I’ll make sure that this is our last year. It’s just not worth it anymore.”

I tried not to show my relief. Having the Greggs gone from the fair would be good in more ways than one.

“Goodbye,” Mrs. Gregg said. “I’m sorry about…well, I’m just sorry.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, too.”

I didn’t tell her I was sorry she was married to such a creep, and that she’d gone along with the cheating stuff for so long. I’d just let her interpret it however she wanted. Because when it came down to it, she
was
sorry—a sorry excuse for a 4-H mom.

Before I left the fair, I found Carla, where she was taking a much-deserved break in the corner of the goat barn. Not the least smelly place she could think of, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was nice to see her smiling again, and she told me she’d had no more texts, and no more strange animal behavior to figure out. Just “run of the mill” stuff, she said, in her technical lingo.

I got a message asking me to come by the cops’ building, and since I just so happened to still be at the fair, I stopped by.

“Still no actual toxicology results,” I said to Watts. “What a surprise.”

She had the grace to look embarrassed.

“So what do you want?”

“Finally got your statement typed up. Wanted you to sign it.”

“Really? You called me for that?”

“And to ask if you remembered anything else. Or had any more ideas about who might have killed Rikki Raines.”

I skimmed the statement and signed it. I then held it up in Watts’ face. “Did you read this?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can see that my sole role in this whole sad affair was that I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I heard a girl scream, I went to help, I pulled Rikki’s body from the shit pile. I didn’t know her. I never talked to her. She was a complete stranger to me. What about that statement says to you, ‘Hey, if I keep on asking her the same stupid questions over and over, maybe she’ll remember something that she had no possibility of ever knowing’?” I thrust the paper at her, and she clutched it, looking around as if making sure nobody was watching. “Goodbye, Watts. Don’t call me again unless you have something to tell me that I’d actually care about.”

That concluded any obligation I had at the fair that day, thank the good Lord, so I got back on my bike and went home.