“Yes, I’m sure that’s what your ‘life coach’ is for. You can’t seem to make a decision without her anymore.” Beth turned to Sana, a condescending smile on her face. “For what she’s paying you, you must be very good at what you do.”
“I am.” No elaboration, no explanation from Sana as she met Beth’s look head-on.
Beth tilted her head. “And what exactly is it that you do? Besides take money from weak women with no business sense?”
Before Sana could defend her work, the mayor butted in. “Ladies, can you save this little squabble for another time? We need to finalize our statements and go over the procedure for the Q&A portion of the pageant.”
Between Beth and Mayor Gunderson, there was so much condescension in the room, I had no idea how Sana could keep her cool. Maybe I really should check out her yoga class if it meant I could deal with conflict as gracefully as she did. My usual method of avoiding it or running away hadn’t been all that effective lately.
“Of course, Mayor. Like Valerie said, we all have our part to play. Just interested in seeing what roles everyone here fits into.”
Beth grinned at Sana’s response, flashing a perfect set of pearly white veneers. Which should’ve added to her beauty, but instead came off as intimidating, predatory almost, and left me wondering who Beth really was. It’d be easy to cast her as the downtrodden widow or even the villain. But something told me there was more to her than that, and I needed to break past that perfect facade and soon—before anyone else got cast as the victim.
* * *
? ? ?
Thank you so much for being here today. I’m sure you’re all just as shocked and saddened as I am by the loss of Rob Thompson, one of our esteemed judges and a true pillar of our community.”
The mayor looked out over the crowd who’d assembled for the opening ceremony of the pageant, pressing his hand against his heart in a show of emotion as he enumerated the many ways Rob helped Shady Palms. “However, I know how much this pageant meant to him, so we will be moving forward as scheduled. Taking his place as judge is his lovely wife, Beth Thompson. Beth, would you mind saying a few words to kick things off?”
He handed the mic to Beth, who flashed a winning smile, with just the right hint of sadness, at the crowd. “Thank you, Mayor Gunderson. And thank you, Shady Palms community, for all the kindness you’ve shown during this horrible ordeal. The outpouring of support would’ve meant everything to Rob. We will be holding his memorial on Saturday, where we can all say our final goodbyes.”
She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. I tried to figure out if this was an act she was putting on, or if it was all genuine. She looked every inch the grieving widow putting on a brave face—her hair was freshly pressed but understated, her black sheath dress flattering yet modest, her classic black pumps increased her already impressive height and highlighted her legs without making it seem like she was trying to attract attention, and she wore the barest covering of makeup that let a hint of dark under-eye circles come through.
As a cosmetics lover, I could tell Beth was a woman who knew how to wield a makeup brush, so the fact that her dark circles were visible was a calculated move. But was it meant to convey I know the people in this town will judge me if I look too perfect after my husband’s death or Look at this poor grieving widow who’s been without sleep since losing the love of her life, of course she’s not a killer? I couldn’t overlook either option.
While I ruminated on her appearance, Beth continued. “This pageant not only meant a lot to my husband, but it also means a lot to me. Education and opportunity are the most important things we can give to our girls, so as sad as I am about the circumstances, I’m thrilled to be part of such an important event. We’ll kick off Miss Teen Shady Palms with a quick photo shoot, and then move directly into the Q&A session, which I’m afraid is a private event. However, you’re free to socialize in the common area, where we have refreshments from the soon-to-be-opened Brew-ha Cafe.”
After news of Rob’s murder got out, some parents pulled their kids from the pageant, so we were down to a little over thirty contestants, but the majority seemed content to let their daughters continue competing. All pageant events were usually open to the public, but the mayor was finally taking some precautions. There were too many contestants to keep an eye on with our limited security, so until the semifinal events, the pageant programming was closed to the public.
The contestants lined up according to the photographer’s instructions, grinning and shifting poses every few shots. After about half an hour of that, the photographer waved the judges in, seating me, Sana, and Beth in the middle and having the girls crowd around us.
“Yes! Absolutely gorgeous. Maybe we can do individual profiles on all the judges as well?” the photographer asked.
Beth agreed, but I hesitated, remembering the trash they printed back when my aunt’s restaurant was in trouble a few months ago. Sana also looked uncomfortable with the idea of a profile centered around her. The photographer must’ve sensed this because he added, “You’ll see everything beforehand and it’ll only go to print if you approve it. We’ll even sign something attesting to that if you want proof.”
Signed paperwork might not stop them if they found anything too juicy, but it was better than nothing.
“All right, but I also want you to throw in an advertisement for the Brew-ha Cafe.” If I had to subject myself to invasive questions on the pageant and myself, I was going to milk this for all it was worth.
“Not a problem. If the rest of the menu is as good as the samples you provided today, the Shady Palms News team would be happy to run an endorsement.”
With the photos done, everyone had a half-hour break before the individual Q&A sessions started. Sana and I dashed to the Brew-ha Cafe table, where Elena was handing out my ube chocolate chip cookies, calamansi-chia seed mini muffins, salabat-spiced banana bread, and other goodies, as well as coupons, to the people helping themselves to the cold brew and house blend coffee dispensers.
“Caffeine!” I poured some cold brew into my insulated water bottle and chugged it, then refilled it. “If I’m going to interview three dozen teenage girls on their beauty queen aspirations, I’m going to need to take this entire thing back with me.”
Sana laughed. “I’m sure it won’t be as terrible as you think. Valerie came up with some pretty insightful questions, so hopefully we’ll avoid the usual cookie-cutter replies.”
“Where is Valerie?” I asked as Sana poured herself some of the house blend and accepted a muffin from Elena with a smile.