The Begonia Bribe (4 page)

“Couple people went by,” Scooter said. “You guys even.”

“Who was here since the last time I was here?” Cam prodded. She was annoyed to have to be so explicit. Anyone should know what she meant.

“Kids on skateboards?” Jed said.

“When?”

“A half hour ago. I think there were three.”

Cam frowned. “How old?”

“Middle school, probably?”

“Probably not them,” Rob said. “Whoever this was seems to take issue with the contest—this looks like an adult.”

“I agree,” Cam said.

“Little old lady?” Scooter asked.

“Maybe.” Though Cam didn’t think that sounded very likely.

“I saw one. Big handbag. Looked like she was going to sit on the steps for lunch.”

“Did you get a good look at her?”

“Big hat. Those”—Scooter made a slashing motion at his calves—“pants . . .”

“Cropped?”

“Yeah. Cropped pants. A little hunched. That’s why I thought she was older. I didn’t see her well enough to say otherwise. Mighta been wearing a light blue top—like denim?”

“That helps. We’ll watch for her, anyway. Thank you.”

Cam felt ready to cry. They didn’t have time to have someone come paint over the graffiti before the show, and she swore to that effect. “Why does everything have to go wrong?”

“You should cover it up,” Rob said, rubbing her neck to relieve the tension.

“What?”

“Get . . . like drapery or something. It would make the inside look elegant, and then nobody would have to paint.”

Cam closed her eyes to try and envision it and realized it would be actually nicer that way.

“We need somebody to frame it,” she said.

“Good thing you know a carpenter with some free time,” Rob said.

Cam frowned again. Her father was indeed a retired carpenter, but this would drag him just that much further into everything. She adored him, but somehow he always ended up center stage. This time, literally.

C
am managed to reach park staff and arrange a cover for the band shell so nobody would see the offending graffiti.

Fortunately, the first event tent was up by two o’clock, and Rob helped Cam move all the check-in materials, along with making a sign so people would know where to go. He was a little more enthusiastic than she would have liked about a story on sabotage, but she appreciated the help. At two-thirty, before any contestants began appearing, the two volunteers from the dinner the night before arrived and were willing to check girls in. They’d been part of the plan, but since Cam hadn’t worked with them before, she hadn’t known if she could count on their promptness. Their arrival freed her to inspect and supervise.

Annie appeared with her camera, smelling of buttercream. Annie owned a bakery called the Sweet Surprise, which specialized in cupcakes, though she sold other desserts as well. Cam knew Annie had asked the young girl who sometimes worked with her to fill in some extra hours this week to free Annie to act as photographer for the pageant.

“I’m glad to see you. Did you look behind there?” Cam pointed to the band shell.

Annie snuck off, then returned with wide eyes. “I guess somebody doesn’t like beauty pageants.”

“It’s not a beauty pageant,” Cam corrected.

“Yeah, well . . . That fanatic doesn’t seem to know that. Erm . . . and it wasn’t me.”

Cam laughed. She knew it hadn’t been her best friend, but it wasn’t that different from how Annie felt about the whole thing.

“Should we check and make sure all the stations are set?” Cam asked.

“I’m going to stay here and see if I can interview anyone,” Rob said.

Annie looked at Cam, confused.

“It’s true. He was assigned the pageant beat,” Cam said.

Annie snorted. “Oh, Rob, you get to practice all your
pretty
words!”

Rob glared and Cam pulled Annie toward the library for their first inspection. The library had a community room and had agreed to allow the pageant committee to set up lockers for each girl in there.

She posted another volunteer with a list so as people came through, she could assign each girl one of the rented lockers. Cam thanked the volunteer, and then she and Annie headed northeast toward the Arts Commission building.

“I thought we’d direct from here, since both the parking garage and shuttle stop channel people past here. You want to get some arrival shots?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” Cam noted Annie’s sarcasm, but if she was honest, she enjoyed the humor. Usually.

“Oh, look. There’s one now,” Annie said, snapping a picture.

Cam went down to greet the mom and daughter and directed them around the building toward the park. This continued in an increasing stream for the next hour.

* * *

“D
o
not
tell me
that
is participating!” Annie hissed behind Cam.

Cam looked up to see a familiar woman helping a little girl from the car seat of a minivan. Another girl, taller and fairer than the first, came around from the other side.

The woman, Mindy, had gone to high school with Cam and Annie and had been a notorious snob. In spite of that, Mindy had once vouched for Cam against one of her rich friends when the friend had cheated off Cam on a test. The teacher had given Cam a zero until Mindy came forward, admitting what she’d seen—losing social status for a while. Cam and Mindy had been friends after that, though they’d lost touch since then. “You be nice,” Cam told Annie.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.” Cam thought maybe Annie had mentally blocked the story. Even if she hadn’t, Annie and Mindy had their own history that, in Annie’s mind, would no doubt trump the single good deed.

“Cam!” The elegant woman spotted her and came forward to the entrance of the Arts Commission. “Do you have a daughter participating, too?”

“Hi, Mindy. No, I’m the event coordinator. Registration is in a tent just around the corner.”

Mindy turned her eyes to Annie. Her nose went up like she smelled something unpleasant. “Oh. Hello, Annie.”

“Hi, Mindy. So nice to see you.”

Cam almost snorted out loud. Annie sounded so unlike herself that it took everything Cam had to keep a straight face.

“Lauren, Lizzie, these are friends of mine from high school. Mrs . . .”

Cam shook her head. “Just call me Cam, and this is Annie. Nice to meet you, Lauren and Lizzie.”

Lauren gave them a very polite greeting, but Lizzie was examining the camera that dangled from Annie’s neck.

“What are you taking pictures of?”

“The Little Miss Begonia Pageant,” Annie said.

“Cool! I like to take pictures.”

“Come on, girls. I’m sure Cam and Annie are very busy.” Mindy hustled to lead the girls around the corner.

“Cam, you should walk Mindy over, check on things,” Annie said. “I can keep directing people.” Cam thought about it and decided Annie was right, so she ran to catch up.

“Is
she
really working with the pageant?” Mindy asked as Cam caught up. She sounded alarmed.

“Annie’s a brilliant photographer, so yes, she’s helping.” It was hard to hit the right tone—a little scolding without being offensive—but Mindy seemed distracted and apparently felt neither.

“Is it all . . .
out
here? In the
open
like this?”

“Well, we hope so! It’s a lovely venue for a pageant.” Cam spotted the work crew. They’d made good progress.

“But . . .”

“Is one of your children heat sensitive?”

“No. I just feel sort of . . . exposed.”

Mindy was one of the few people Cam knew who was fairer complexioned than she was. “There are some boutiques not far from here if you need a broad-brimmed hat.”

Mindy jerked her head and stared at Cam like she’d forgotten she was there. “Oh! Yes. I’ll have to go look.”

Cam thought Mindy hadn’t meant sun-exposed, but Mindy was a former pageant girl herself, so surely she would expect the other exposure. A girl didn’t sign up for pageants to hide.

They finally reached the tent and Cam led Mindy to the sign-in table.

“Lauren and Lizzie Blankenship.” Mindy smiled, every bit as sincere as Cam remembered, which was to say not at all. But instead of looking snobbish, as Cam expected, Mindy looked nervous.

The younger daughter pulled on Mindy’s shirt. “Can I go back and take pictures with that other girl?”

Cam squatted, though she saw a warning glance from Mindy. “Her name is Annie, but you know what? She’s working, so now isn’t the best time. She’ll be here all week, okay?”

“Come on, Lizzie. Cam is working, too,” Mindy said.

Cam wondered what was up with Mindy. She would have expected a lot more nose-rubbing from the one-time debutante about her successful marriage and status, which was clearly wealthy, but Mindy seemed to be posturing, hiding something, almost timid.

Cam double-checked that Trish and Jenny, the volunteers, had been giving directions and the time for the supper buffet. She greeted a few more entrants, then left the tent, only to find Rob interviewing Lizzie, Mindy standing nearby.

“Well, you’ve made a friend,” Cam said.

“Cam, this is . . .”

“I’ve met Lizzie. Actually, Mindy and I went to high school together,” Cam said.

“You two know each other?” Mindy asked, eying Rob with interest.

Cam started to say something about small towns, but Rob scooped her around the waist and tried to kiss her, catching her cheek.

“Yes. Rob and I are seeing each other,” Cam admitted, realizing she’d blushed more today than she had in months.

“Well, good heavens! Marry the boy! He’s terribly charming!” Mindy said.

Cam thought she might die. She got a fair bit of flak for not being married at thirty-two from the matrons in her life, most of them Roanoke Garden Society members, but she didn’t want Rob to feel pressured. She didn’t want to get married until it was right for both of them.

That’s when Benny appeared. “Erm, Miss Harris. I think we found something that needs your attention.”

She apologized to Mindy and followed Benny. Rob stayed behind, figuring it was a floral detail, an assumption Cam shared. Benny led her away from the tents; she saw a cluster of people in the shrubs behind the Arts Commission and felt her stomach somersault. Her heart leaped into her throat and stayed. She sprinted as well as she could without being able to breathe.

“What happened?”

“It’s that T.V. guy who’s judging,” Benny said.

“T.V. guy” took a minute to register. “Telly Stevens?”

Benny nodded.

“What did he do?” She pictured another scene.

“I haven’t gotten close. Scooter found him. He was planting salvia at the far end and spotted a foot in the bushes.”

Telly Stevens was in the bushes? Cam stood on her tiptoes and could see Scooter standing guard in front of a prone body. Her heart thumped, but surely this was just a case of overheating or something. Somebody who Cam thought might be Michelle, the choreographer, leaned over him, trying to administer CPR. She was only doing the heart part. Cam rushed forward to help, though her own training was very rusty, but when she got to her knees, Michelle shouted, “No!”

Cam looked at her, fighting anxiety. This was a lot worse than she’d feared.

“Look at his mouth—that foam—I don’t know what that is, but it might be poison. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get close to it.”

The paramedics arrived then, and Cam and Michelle were glad to step away and let the professionals take over.

“Ma’am, how long did you try CPR?” one of them asked Michelle.

“Somewhere between five and ten minutes, but I couldn’t do the breathing,” Michelle said. “Look in his mouth.”

The second EMT looked and pulled a needle from a box and shot it into Telly Stevens, but nothing happened. The other man shrugged.

“It was a long shot. That foam could have indicated an allergic reaction.” He turned back to Michelle. “That was smart not to get too close. I don’t know what that is, but it might be dangerous.”

“Is he dead?” Cam asked, and then spotted Stevens’s flask off to the side. She thought about picking it up, but then thought better of it.

At that minute, Jake arrived with a female deputy. Cam swerved and pointed out the flask to Jake. She told him she’d seen Stevens with it the night before. She felt, though, that her best efforts should be spent keeping people involved in the pageant away from this until the scene cleared.

* * *

A
s soon as the area had emptied, Cam went up to their offices to explain what had happened to Evangeline.

“We’ve got a problem,” she said quietly, hoping there was no one to hear.

“Close the door,” Evangeline said.

Cam did and then told her about what had happened.

“Shoot! We are back to looking for judges!”

That hadn’t been the response Cam had anticipated, but it was true. Nobody had really liked Telly, so it was also possible the pageant would go more smoothly with a different judge, if they were able to manage the press of the matter.

They decided for the time being, at least, they would assume the tragedy was unrelated to the pageant. It was an unfortunate event, but until they knew differently, it was easiest to assume it was just an unfortunate medical incident.

* * *

N
ick and Petunia were setting up under a tent canopy when Cam and Evangeline reached the park lawns on the far side of the library a few hours later. The van was pulled onto the grass so they didn’t have to move things far, but there was a lot of food, Cam knew, as she was the one who’d ordered it.

Cam had forgotten the Petunia-Evangeline dynamic momentarily, since the two hadn’t encountered each other the night before. Evangeline and Nick had a rather colorful history together, and no matter how it was argued, Petunia refused to believe it was only platonic. Cam jumped into their lineup to help unload and Evangeline grabbed a salad bowl, until Petunia pulled it back saying, “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

Cam hoped Evangeline didn’t hear the rudeness under the words. She wished Petunia could just believe Evangeline and Nick were only old friends and let the past go. Whatever the case, Evangeline took the cue to go into the tent next door and make sure all the participants had arrived. Evangeline returned just as Nick and Petunia were shutting the van to re-park it on the street during the supper.

Annie returned then, cleaned up and in a sundress. Cam envied her the shower, but then Cam had started work three hours later than Annie and hadn’t spent any time with an industrial oven. She was just glad her best friend had been willing to pitch in over and above her own business.

“I came with your dad,” Annie said. “He insisted on dropping me off and then parking.”

“He does that, but I’m glad you came together. That way you can keep track of him.”

“You think I’m going to keep someone out of trouble?” Annie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t seem to work last night.”

Cam debated telling Annie about the dead judge but decided it needed to wait until later. “No, but I don’t think you’ve completely lost anyone since college,” she said.

Annie nodded, conceding the point.

Not two minutes later, Cam saw two older men crossing the grass together, chatting amicably. Evangeline rushed to one of them and kissed her husband. He was thirty years older and two inches shorter, but they really seemed to adore one another.

“Daddy! Thank you for coming.” Cam kissed her dad’s cheek.

“Well, another free supper . . .” he said.

Cam tilted her head, but he was unabashed.

“So why don’t you show me this project before they let us eat? Is it where all that yellow tape is?”

“No. I will explain that later. Come with me.” Cam led her dad to the band shell, where they slipped behind the curtain.

“Oh boy. Somebody doesn’t like pageants much.”

“It’s true. And we can’t have it painted. There’s no time. Can you think of anything?”

“I’ve got some lattice. We could weave . . . what’s this . . . Miss Honeysuckle?”