Model Menace 2 (7 page)

Akinyi watched Pandora, her lips slowly forming a skeptical smirk. “Before someone gets hurt?” she asked. “Or before the guy you’re not over marries someone else?”

Pandora looked up, anger flashing in her eyes. It made me realize that, up until that point, I’d never seen Pandora look truly upset. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in a dark, low voice. “Excuse me. I need to meditate.” And she stood up from the table, walked out of the room, and was gone.

Akinyi just watched her go, shaking her head. “I’m so tired of her bringing everyone down,” she explained to the rest of us. “She needs to get over Vic, and fast.”

I didn’t know what to say. My two prime suspects were fighting with each other. Pandora
did
seem awfully obsessed with Vic tonight—but what did that mean? Nothing had happened to either Syd
or
Vic since the dress slashing, and the wedding was almost here.

Bess elbowed me. “Okay, I think I’ve seen enough excitement tonight,” she whispered. “Let’s hurry up and eat before something else happens!”

I dug into my food, although I realized I didn’t have much of an appetite. I was having my own wedding jitters. Not about getting married myself, obviously—but that the night would continue without anything happening, and then I wouldn’t catch the wedding saboteur, and he or she would do something awful at the wedding.

The salad and the entrees were served without incident. It wasn’t until the dessert course was served—a decadent, gooey molten chocolate cake that everyone at our table was enjoying
immensely
, even Pandora—that a loud
clink
could be heard over the din of conversation.

At the sweetheart table, Syd and Vic were frowning as Vic dug into his cake. “What the…?” he asked, carefully pulling the cake apart. He gasped and held something up on his fork.

I leaned in close to see, as the crowd gasped. It was several shards of glass!

I jumped out of my seat. “Vic!” I cried. “Don’t move! Don’t eat that! Let me see!”

I ran over, and Vic handed me his fork. Putting it down and digging into the cake with his knife, I could see several other jagged pieces—small enough to be swallowed without his noticing it, but large enough to do some serious internal damage.

“Oh my gosh,” cried Sydney, her eyes welling up with tears. “Vic, oh no. It’s not over. He’s struck again!”

Just then, we all heard a loud
beep.
I looked at Syd, both of our faces drooping with recognition. Syd reached down and pulled her PDA out of her bag, then wordlessly showed the screen to me.

PREPARE FOR ALL UR DREAMS
2
B SHATTERED
.

S
yd was inconsolable. I tried my best to comfort her—at least Vic hadn’t taken a bite! At least he found the glass before it could do any damage!—but nothing seemed to make her feel any better.

“If this was the wedding saboteur’s plan for the rehearsal dinner, Nancy,” she told me between sobs, “imagine what he has on deck for tomorrow!”

It was true. What worried me most about the glass incident was that it proved to us the wedding saboteur was still at large—and still fundamentally opposed to this wedding. And whoever this person was, he or she had proven that they were willing to see someone get hurt, even killed, just as long as it kept Vic and Syd from becoming husband and wife.

“I’ll catch him, Syd,” I told the very jittery bride-to-be. “I promise you.” But the truth is, I’m not even sure she heard me over her crying.

“What’s up?” asked George as I returned to our table.

“Syd’s pretty upset,” I replied.

George nodded grimly. “Bess and I checked with the kitchen staff,” she told me. “The producers have really been on them to make sure the food they serve is safe. The chef said Vic and Syd’s food was checked and rechecked before it left the kitchen—there’s no way someone inserted the glass back there.”

I nodded grimly. “And they were at the table almost the whole time the desserts were sitting there,” I added. “Except…”

“Except!” Bess cried excitedly. “Right when the chocolate cakes were put down, Syd and Vic were over at my mom’s table, talking to Ellie.”

I nodded. “That’s right,” I said, remembering. After the desserts were put down, I vaguely recalled Syd and Vic rushing back to their table to try them. “They weren’t gone long, though. Maybe a couple of minutes?”

Bess nodded. “Just enough time to for someone to come up and mess with Vic’s cake—right?”

I sighed. It was hard to imagine someone from the rehearsal dinner—someone Vic and Syd loved—trying to hurt them during the happiest time of their lives. But it was hard to argue with reality. Unless it was someone from the
Daredevils
crew? I briefly flashed back to Hans’s phone conversation two days before, and my sudden hunch that the producers themselves might be behind the incidents, but even now it seemed crazy to me. Once the glass had been found, the
Daredevils
crew had sprung into action—every crew member not actively working on the filming was sent to question restaurant staff, talk to the police, and comfort Syd. And they’d been amping up security with every new incident. It really seemed like they had the couple’s best interests at heart.

Suddenly I realized something. “Akinyi was sitting with us at the table the whole time,” I pointed out. “She couldn’t have done it.”

George nodded. “But Pandora has been up several times to ‘meditate,’” she pointed out.

“And Jamal,” Bess added sadly, as though it pained her to say it. “I noticed he got up from the groomsmen’s table right before the dessert course was served. So it could have been him.”

I frowned, looking around the room. Somebody here was the wedding saboteur. But who?

Akinyi and Jamal had gathered around Syd and Vic’s table, and Jamal had his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. He seemed to be shaking his head, trying to soothe the couple. Akinyi, meanwhile, had pulled out a lace handkerchief and was drying Syd’s eyes. She, too, put her hand on Syd’s back, whispering something in her ear and patting. The two certainly looked sincerely concerned for their friends.

I pulled my eyes away. Across the room, at the restaurant entrance, I saw Pandora approaching the glass doors, looking ticked. She slammed her cell phone shut and shoved it in her pocket, shaking her head like she hadn’t liked what the person on the other end of the line had had to say. I watched Pandora look around nervously. Her gaze seemed to fall on something she liked, and a quick smile formed on her lips. But just as quickly, she seemed to panic and look away.

All in all, she was looking very neurotic and not Pandora-like
at all.

I turned back to my friends. “Guys,” I said, “I need your help.”

Ten minutes later, the three of us were back in my Prius, headed for the Hotel Bristol.

“What did you tell Sydney?” Bess asked me.

“I told her I had a stomachache and you two had agreed to give me a ride home,” I replied. “I figure we have about a half-hour window before everyone finishes up and heads back to the hotel. And in that time I’m going to need to check some things out.”

“I can’t wait!” Bess cried, clapping her hands together excitedly. “It’s been too long since I’ve done any real snooping!”

I glanced at her warily in the rearview mirror. “Uh, Bess…”

George smirked, turning to face me from the passenger seat. “Let me guess,” she said. “Bess and I are on lobby watch?”

I could see Bess’s shoulders fall in the backseat. “Yes,” I agreed. “Sorry, Bess. But I need to move superfast, and I’m going to need some warning if any of the rehearsal dinner guests start coming back through the lobby.”

Bess just sighed, looking put-upon. “Okay,” she agreed. “I guess it’s never easy being the best friend of the original supersleuth of River Heights.”

George held up her index finger. “
One
of the best friends!” she corrected her cousin. “And I agree—it’s not easy. But I’ll feel pretty good once we catch the jerk who’s trying to ruin Syd’s wedding.”

Bess smiled. “Agreed,” she said.

The Hotel Bristol seemed pretty quiet with the entire wedding party elsewhere. I led Bess and George in through the back door, and then immediately took a back stairway up to the third floor.

“Where are we going?” Bess demanded, looking confused. “The lobby’s that way.”

“Trust me,” I replied, pulling off my jacket and stashing it behind a potted plant in the hallway. “Now, you guys can head to the lobby with me, but you have to act like you’re not
with
me. Pretend we’re two separate parties.”

George looked doubtful, but she knew enough to trust me on matters like these. “Okay,” she agreed. “Who are you? Never seen you before in my life.”

I led them across the third floor to a set of elevators that I knew led to the lobby. When the elevator arrived, all three of us got on, but Bess and George stood toward the rear of he car, as though we’d never met.

“Once these doors open,” I told them in a low voice, “we don’t know each other, okay? And you know, if you see anyone,
especially
Pandora, you call me.”

Bess nodded, but George furrowed her brows. “Why are you talking to us, stranger?” she asked.

The elevator dinged. “Cute,” I muttered, just before the doors opened. Then, putting on my cutest “girl in distress” look, I marched up to the front desk.

“Hi,” I said a little sheepishly to the young man who was working reception.

“Hi,” he said, smiling warmly. “Can I help you?”

“I sure hope so,” I replied, with a little nervous laugh. “See, I just locked myself out of my room. And, unfortunately, I was kind of in the middle of running myself a bath…”

The man’s face broke out in concern as he realized what I was saying.

“Exactly!” I said, trying to look really embarrassed. “And, unfortunately, I don’t have any ID on me, but I’m sure you can understand I
really
need to get back there…”

“Of course, of course,” the man replied, perking up and typing something into his computer. “We can have one of our security guards bring you up. What is your name?”

I smiled. “Pandora Simmons,” I replied.

“Here you go, ma’am,” a security guard named Hank told me a few minutes later, as he opened the door to room 238. “Hope we got you up here in time! We haven’t heard any complaints of water leaking into the room below…”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine, thanks!” I said with a smile, gently closing the door behind me. The clock on the bedside table said it was 9:12—about fifteen minutes after we’d left the rehearsal dinner. I just hoped everyone was still hanging around and talking, and not running back to the hotel to get a good night’s sleep.

Turning on the overhead light, I glanced around the room. I didn’t immediately see anything unusual. Pandora’s huge vintage suitcase was open on a dresser near the window, and her signature gauzy, brightly-printed clothes spilled out. I could see her bridesmaid dress hanging on a hook on the outside of the closet.

Trying my best to be quiet, I moved to the door to the small hotel bathroom and turned on that light. Glancing around, I gasped—right there, on the vanity, was a broken wine glass! I walked into the bathroom and examined it, not wanting to touch it or get fingerprints on it. But just looking carefully, it seemed that the glass had been shattered and the jagged pieces placed in what remained of the glass bowl. I couldn’t be sure, but it definitely seemed possible to me that a few pieces were missing.

“That could be it,” I murmured to myself, taking a quick glance around the rest of the bathroom, opening and closing some drawers (which all turned out to be empty). “That could be the glass that was pushed into Vic’s dessert.”

Hopeful, but not convinced, I walked back out to the main room. I wanted to look at the rest of Pandora’s things and see if I could find some more evidence that would support Pandora being the culprit. I dug through her suitcase, but didn’t see anything notable. Just a bunch of clothing, crystals, and essential oils.

I looked in the closet, but it was nearly empty. It held only Pandora’s bridesmaid dress (on the front) and a skirt she’d worn to the bachelorette party. Walking over to the bed, I glanced at the nightstand. That was where lots of people kept personal items, like books, journals, even photos of loved ones. Pandora’s nightstand, though, was curiously empty.
That’s odd,
I thought, pulling open the top drawer.

Inside was the standard Bible, put there by the Gideons. But also…I reached my hand in further and felt a small, paperbound volume. I pulled it out.
A journal!
And also—my hand hit something cold and sharp. I fished around, and gasped when I saw what it was: a pair of sharp scissors.

Scissors just like the ones that were probably used to slash Syd’s dress.

I opened the journal to a recent page and cast my eyes over it:

“
Miss him so much it’s driving me crazy…So hard to be this close to him and not able to touch him…But if anyone knew how I really feel, it could ruin everything…”

I bit my lip. She had to be talking about Vic!

Looking across the room, I suddenly spotted something I hadn’t noticed on my first pass, because it was covered by a wild paisley scarf. But there, on the round table where hotel guests could set up a mini-office, was a laptop computer.

I ran over to it, flipping it open and touching the spacebar to take it out of sleep mode. When the screen came to life, I quickly moved the mouse over the Internet browser icon and double clicked….

Rrrring! Rrrring!

My heart jumped into my throat as my cell phone began to ring. It had to be Bess and George! Fishing it out of my pocket, I held it to my ear and answered, “Is she in the lobby?”

“Worse,” George replied. “We didn’t see her come in at first, because she came in a side door. But Bess just caught a glimpse of her coat in the elevator as the doors were closing! Nance, you have to get out of there. She’s going to be on the floor any minute!”

But as George said this, I could hear that it was already too late. Loud giggling in the hallway could only be coming from Pandora. And then—a deeper voice. Uh-oh. Pandora was with a
guy
!

“I think we were right to ditch the party. Syd was getting so upset anyway. And we might be able to see each other again.”

My heart was pounding in my throat. Throwing the laptop, scarf, and journal back where I’d found them, I launched myself into the bathroom, stumbling into the shower and closing the curtain to hide me.
Please, God, just make Pandora and her date feel nice and clean and
not
in need of a shower!

As soon as my feet hit the porcelain shower floor, the door to the hotel room opened. I heard more giggling, then a male laugh.

“We made it!” Pandora called happily, and I heard the springs of her bed squeak as she sat down heavily on the mattress.

More laughter followed, and while the two of them were talking, I decided to take a peek. I stepped quietly out of the shower, pulled the bathroom door closer to me, and silently peered around it to see—

Pandora and
Dragon
sitting on the bed!