Model Mystery Trilogy 01: Model Crime (5 page)

“I understand, sir,” I said. “But this isn’t just a TV show. It’s real life. If whoever’s doing this escalates the sabotage and someone gets really hurt—”

“Hans! There you are!” I was interrupted by Josh, Akinyi’s nerdy-looking boyfriend. He rushed up to us, barely seeming to notice my presence as he zeroed in on the director. “Listen, what happened today made me rethink the revenge scene in my screenplay. What do you think if instead of the heroine tossing the beetles into the wood chipper, she tricks them into ingesting pollen laced with bug spray, or…”

There was more, but I didn’t bother trying to keep up with his torrent of words. Eberhart, on the other hand, was nodding along with interest. Realizing I’d been dismissed, I wandered back to my friends, feeling troubled.

“Did they take care of Deirdre?” Bess asked.

“Hmm? Oh, her. Yeah, Eberhart sent Madge out to do it. But listen—do you think he could possibly have anything to do with what’s been happening?”

“You mean Hans Eberhart? Are you kidding?” George looked scandalized. “He’s not some two-bit hack who needs to drum up scandal to get work. He’s an artist! A much better one than people give him credit for.”

“Right,” I said. “You keep saying he’s so talented that he should have a better career. What if he agrees—and is trying to get himself noticed this way?”

Bess’s eyes widened. “You mean he’s setting up the sabotage so the show—and he—will get more attention?”

“Maybe. I have to admit, it sounds like a wild theory,” I admitted. “But he certainly had the access. Nobody would think twice about him rushing in and out of any doors in the place earlier. And he’d probably have no trouble getting his hands on one of Syd’s invitations, so he could have set up that mock one, and sent the e-mails….”

I let my voice trail off, thinking over what I was saying. It really did sound a little nuts. Then again, it wasn’t any crazier than anything some culprits in my past cases had done.

“I don’t know, Nancy,” Bess said dubiously. “Do you really think—”

She never got the chance to finish her question. Deb Camden came rushing up to us, wringing her hands.

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” she cried, her eyes wide and horrified. “You’ve got to come help me talk some sense into Sydney. She’s so freaked out by what happened to Vic that she’s threatening to call off the wedding!”

D
eb was pointing down the hall leading to the patient rooms, which was a few yards from where we were standing. I turned that way just in time to see Sydney burst out from the hallway with her mother and Vic right behind her.

“No!” Sydney wailed, her face streaked with tears and her pale cheeks red and splotchy. “I can’t handle it. It’s too much!”

“Sydney, settle down!” Ellie said firmly. She glanced around the waiting room, obviously realizing that just about everyone had stopped their own conversations to turn and stare.

“Hang on, Mama Ellie. Let me try, okay?” Vic put an arm around Sydney’s shoulders. “Come with me, baby,” he said, his voice softer and more emotional than I’d heard it so far. “Let’s just go talk about this, okay? Please, Syd?”

Sydney sniffled but didn’t protest as he steered her back down the hallway out of sight—and hearing—of the waiting room. The rest of us watched them go.

“Whoa,” Bess said quietly. “Sydney seems really upset.”

I shot a glance at Deb, who had wandered off to talk excitedly at Candy and Akinyi. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “It seems pretty extreme.” I gestured to my friends. “Come here, we need to talk about this.”

Soon we were huddled in a corner of the room well out of earshot of the rest of the people in the waiting room—and out of view of any of the TV cameras. “What’s up?” George asked. “Did you have one of your hunches or something? Sleuth-O-Meter going off?”

“Not exactly.” I took a deep breath, feeling a bit guilty for what I was about to say. “But listen—do either of you think it’s weird that Syd would threaten to call off the wedding because of this?”

“Not really,” Bess said with a shrug. “I mean, her fiancé could’ve been killed. That would be enough to shake up almost anyone.”

George nodded. “And we all know Syd can be a little high-strung.”

“I know, I know.” I shook my head. “I guess that’s sort of my point. What if she has cold feet, or maybe just wants out of this TV deal, and is sabotaging her own wedding?”

My friends stared at me. “No way,” George said. “Syd wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s right,” Bess added. “Besides, she couldn’t have spiked that PowerUp. I’m pretty sure she was front and center the whole time we were at the airport—someone would’ve noticed and said something if she’d disappeared off by herself, even for a few seconds.”

George nodded, leaning back against the wall. “And when she
did
go outside right before it happened, Candy was with her, remember?”

“True.” I’d already thought of that myself. “But she could have an accomplice or something.”

Bess waved her hands. “What are we doing, sitting around here discussing this like it could actually be true?” she exclaimed. “I mean, come on! Even if Syd did want to get out of this wedding, she’d never do something so horrible. Vic could have died if he’d swallowed that jet fuel!”

“You’re right, you’re right. It was just a theory.” I sighed. “So where does that leave us?”

“Well, there’s that director guy,” Bess said uncertainly. “Do you still think he’s a suspect?”

“A pretty weak one at best,” I admitted, my gaze roving around the waiting room. “The trouble is, no better suspects are leaping out at me based on what we saw today.”

There was a burst of sudden laughter from across the room. Glancing that way, George wrinkled her nose. “What about Pandora?” she said. “Everyone knows she and Vic were an item during their season of the show. What if she’s still in love with him?”

“It’s possible, I guess.” I looked over at Pandora, who was once again goofing around with her two fellow Daredevils. “Then again, if we’re speculating about motives, we could also say that Bo or Dragon could be envious of Vic’s huge popularity on the show and trying to get back at him.”

“Basically, we don’t know most of the people involved well enough to start guessing at stuff like that,” Bess pointed out. “Shouldn’t we stick to the facts and go from there?”

I smiled. “You’re right, detective,” I said. “So let’s talk about the facts. Who could have slipped away long enough to poison the PowerUp?”

“I don’t know, but I just remembered something else,” George said, straightening up. “Some people weren’t exactly jumping forward to join in the PowerUp toast.”

Bess glanced at her. “Yeah. Like us.”

“No, that’s different,” George said. “Nobody cared if we got up there for the photo op—we’re nobodies. But people were trying to get all the celebs to join in, remember?”

My eyes widened as I realized she was right. “All the Daredevils stepped up,” I said. “And a few others, too.”

“But not Akinyi,” Bess finished. “But are you sure that means anything? She said she didn’t want the extra calories. That certainly seems like a valid reason coming from a professional fashion model.”

George glanced across the room at the statuesque model, who was talking with Candy and Deb and a couple of other people while the burly bald cameraman with the bushy eyebrows filmed their every move. “Yeah,” she said. “But Akinyi definitely looks like the type who comes by her skinny naturally. I can’t imagine she couldn’t spare a few calories in honor of her best friend’s wedding.”

Bess still looked doubtful. “I just can’t believe one of Syd’s best friends would do this. It’s not like Akinyi was the only one who refused the PowerUp—Deb didn’t want to drink it either, remember? And you guys aren’t jumping all over her about it.”

“Maybe we should.” I glanced at Deb, who appeared keyed up by the latest excitement as she chattered at the others. “I just don’t think we can write off anybody as a potential suspect until we figure out what’s going on.”

“Except for Sydney,” Bess said. “Like I was saying before. And I guess that lets out Candy, too, since she was with her when it happened.”

At that moment I spotted Sydney and Vic emerging once again from the back hallway. His arm was still around her, and he was murmuring quietly into her ear. She’d cleaned up her face, and while her cheeks were still pink with emotion, her expression seemed calmer than it had a few minutes earlier.

“They’re back,” Bess said, spotting the couple at the same time. “Looks like Vic talked her down.”

“Good,” I said, observing them. For once, Vic wasn’t sparing even a brief glance at the cameras, which had zeroed in on the pair as soon as they’d appeared. All his attention was focused on his bride-to-be. Actually, judging by the way he was gazing at her with sweet concern in his eyes, I wasn’t sure he remembered the cameras were there at all—or any of the rest of us, either. For the first time, I started to see a hint of what Sydney might see in him.

Sydney’s mother bustled past them and clapped her hands for attention. “All right, everyone,” she called out. “The doctors have released us, so you all might as well clear out. I think it’s safe to say the welcome party is over.”

I called Sydney the next morning, hoping to talk over the case with her. But she sounded rushed and distracted as soon as she picked up the phone.

“Sorry, I can’t talk now,” she said apologetically. “I’m on my way out to get my hair and makeup done. We’re doing that filming at the stadium today, remember?”

As soon as she said it, I vaguely recalled what she meant. Along with the normal wedding preparations, Sydney was expected to participate in several extra TV shoots. Today, Friday morning, she and her model friends were supposed to get together with the
Daredevils
gang to act out some unusual international wedding traditions for the cameras. It all sounded pretty silly to me. Fortunately, as noncelebrity members of the wedding party, my friends and I weren’t expected—or even invited, for that matter—to join in.

“Oh, right,” I said, disappointed that our chat would have to wait. After all, the wedding was a week from tomorrow, which didn’t leave much time to get to the bottom of things. “Well, maybe later, then. Have fun!”

“I’ll try.” Sydney didn’t sound too optimistic.

After I hung up, I just stood there in the hallway of my house for a moment, staring at my phone and wondering how to proceed. I was still deep in thought when Hannah Gruen came downstairs. Hannah has been our housekeeper ever since my mom died when I was three. She’s definitely a member of the family as far as Dad and I are concerned.

“What are you up to today, Nancy?” she asked. “Feel like some shopping? I need to pick up a few things at the mall.”

“Sorry, Hannah, I can’t,” I said, snapping out of my thoughts. “I think I need to be somewhere else this morning.”

An hour later, I was walking across the parking lot of the River Heights University Stadium, Bess and George at my side.

“Are you sure they’re going to let us in?” Bess asked as we neared the main gate. “Security has been pretty tight around this whole production.”

“Probably be even tighter after what happened yesterday,” George agreed. “Haven’t you ever heard of a closed set, Nance? We’re not on the list for today’s shoot.”

“We’ll get in,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “How can they turn us away? We’re Sydney’s bridesmaids.”

Unfortunately, the large man standing guard at the entrance didn’t seem particularly impressed when I shared that with him. “Sorry,” he said, scanning a sheet of paper on the clipboard he was holding. “Not on the list.”

I bit my lip, frustrated. I’d decided we didn’t have any time to waste if I wanted to solve this mystery before the wedding. Besides, if the saboteur struck again during today’s filming, I wanted to be there.

“But we just need to talk to Sydney,” I insisted. “If you call her and tell her we’re here—”

Before I could finish, I spotted Candy and Akinyi coming toward us from inside the stadium. Both of them were dressed in Hawaiian-style outfits, complete with grass skirts.

“Hi!” Candy greeted us, sounding a little distracted. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you weren’t stuck doing these silly little wedding skits like we are.”

“We’re not,” I said. “We just wanted to come watch—you know, help out if we’re needed.”

Meanwhile Akinyi was peering out through the gate. “You haven’t seen Sydney, have you?” she asked us anxiously. “She’s late, and Hans is not happy.”

“We haven’t seen her,” I said. “But I talked to her on the phone a little earlier, and she was running a few minutes late. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

“Told you so,” Candy said to Akinyi. “Honestly, do you really have to turn everything into a huge drama fest?”

Her tone was one of fond exasperation, but Akinyi replied seriously. “Can you blame me, after all that has happened?” she said. “But never mind. Let’s go back in.” She glanced at the guard. “Oh, and it’s okay,” she added, her grass skirt rustling as she waved a hand at me and my friends. “You can let them in.”

“Right,” Candy added. “They’re with us.”

The guard shot me a skeptical glance, then shrugged. “If you say so,” he muttered, waving us by.

“Thanks,” I told the models as all five of us hurried through the tunnel leading into the stadium. “That guy was taking his job pretty seriously.”

George chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t think we were going to get past him if you two hadn’t turned up when you did.”

“No problem,” Akinyi replied with a smile.

There was no answer from Candy. Glancing over, I saw that her attention was focused on something out on the field. Or, rather, some
one
. When I followed her gaze, it led directly to Vic. He was standing on the stadium’s artificial turf, flexing his muscles as a couple of cameras filmed him. Like the models, he was dressed in a grass skirt and little else.

Akinyi noticed too. “You always did spot him first off, didn’t you?” she said with a slight smile. “Too bad he only had eyes for your sister.”

Candy shot her a sour look. “Very funny,” she muttered. “Come on, let’s get down there.”

My friends and I followed the pair down the nearest set of steps leading onto the field, which was a hive of activity. People were rushing around everywhere I looked, and weird props and bits of scenery were scattered all over the field. Someone had erected a fake pyramid near the fifty-yard line, near which several horses grazed contentedly on a large pile of hay or sipped from a large water trough. At the base of the steps we were descending at the moment, someone had created what appeared to be a small tropical beach, complete with sand, shells, and a full-size palm tree.

Even as I took in the unusual scene, I couldn’t help wondering what that weird little exchange between the two models had been about. But before I could ponder it much, we all heard a familiar voice behind us breathlessly calling out, “I’m here, I’m here!”

It was Sydney. She rushed into the stadium with her mother behind her. Sydney looked beautiful—she was dressed in what I assumed was supposed to be a Hawaiian-style wedding gown. It was pure white, but the fabric included a white-on-white Hawaiian print. Sydney’s red hair was swept up into a loose updo, only a few tendrils spilling out over her bare shoulders.

Most of the camera crew came hurtling toward them to film the bride’s arrival. I had to jump out of the way as the bushy-browed cameraman almost crashed into me.

“Excuse us! Please step aside, if you don’t mind.” Donald the PA came bustling up to us, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, you guys. The bride’s entrance is part of the show. Can you watch from over there?”

We obediently stepped back out of camera range. Donald rushed away as Vic strode toward his bride, beaming happily. Sydney paused at the edge of the fake beach as her mother hurried off out of view. Bo and Dragon, both attired similarly to Vic, took their places next to the other two models in the background.

“Aloha, my beautiful bride!” Vic said loudly, sweeping into a bow. “I wish to welcome you with the traditions of the island of Hawaii, where the two of us decided to announce our love to the world by becoming engaged.”

I might not have known Vic very well yet, but I couldn’t help noticing that the words didn’t exactly sound like something he would come up with on his own. Glancing over, I saw that Donald was holding up cue cards just off camera.