Carol Shenold - Tali Cates 02 - Bloody Murder by Carol Shenold Page B

Kimmie Baker. She was giving us a hard time and accusing us of all kinds of things. She’s real mean.”
    “Don’t you worry about her. You just look pretty for the judges tonight when they award your trophy. Tali, I have to take care of something. The judges are still deciding and the talent is finished. It shouldn’t be long before we can blow this popsicle stand for a couple of hours.”
    I raised an eyebrow, and it hurt. Gee, she was confident SueAnn was going to place in the contest. I felt my eye tighten. Swell. I was sure it would be all kinds of colors just in time for the contest tonight. I had to find an emcee. I had to find ice.
    The soundman had the waiting-music going as the audience discussed who was going to win, should win, shouldn’t win. I went over to the judges, who grew wide-eyed at the sight of me, maybe because of the dirt on my white slacks—or the eye.
    “Alice is tallying the results right now.” Cherilyn shoved a plastic glass of ice in my hand. “Here, if you put this cup of ice against your eye, maybe it will help.”
    I accepted the ice, grinned, and gingerly touched it to the eye. “Ow, ow, ow.”
    “Big baby.” Cherilyn laughed. “Close encounter with an over enthusiastic mom?”
    “No, a Queen contestant.”
    “Only you, Tali. Only you. Call me later and fill me in.”
    “Count on it.”
    She gave me the results and I went out into the middle of the stage.
    I called the girls out for the last round of applause before announcing the winners, starting with the Talent winner, ending with the Duchess winner. As I announced the winner a red flash glared behind and around the hay bales. The audience was clapping and yelling for the winner and the “special effects.”
    Shit, fire! I practically threw the flowers and trophy at the new Duchess and ran around the end of the bales as the audience swarmed the stage. I didn’t see smoke, flame, or signs of fire. I did see a shoe. I stomped over to it, prepared to ream out kids who picked the middle of contest to neck behind the stage.
    It wasn’t kids. It was Karin, or at least her clothes, and she wouldn’t be in the contest. Kneeling next to her were Aiden and Lyn, who both straightened abruptly. I couldn’t see Karin’s face but Aiden’s expression told me everything. The redwood scent that began to suggest evil to me was so strong, it overwhelmed me. Karin’s face, the face of a mummy, an old mummy, not the vibrant girl I’d seen a little while ago. My stomach churned. My chest grew tight. Death had become a contestant and wanted to win.
     

Chapter Eleven
    Death again. JT again, looking at me as if everything was my fault. Yellow police tape. Panic in the audience. Scared contestants. Laurel showed up to insist the Queen Contest go on but be held in the auditorium for greater security and would I please assure her no other untoward incidents would mar the contest.
    Between the blooming eye and blossoming headache, I was so ready to go home, grab a bite—if I could eat—and find some sanity. Camera flashes from reporters who were after the winners of the contest and, more doggedly, after pictures of the latest murder, did nothing to help the way I felt. Hopefully Aiden would show up as scheduled. If not, the boys would gobble up everything in sight anyway.
    After I was allowed to leave, I walked back to the library to get my car. I shivered as I looked up at the building, wondering if I’d ever be comfortable in there again. I already dreaded the upcoming contest. The event had been spoiled, soiled by the loss of young women who should have had long lives ahead of them. They shouldn’t die so young, under such outlandish circumstances. Reality had become a page out of a murder mystery.
    I coasted down the street. I liked being in between. In the car I didn’t have to try to answer questions I didn’t want to deal with. Why had Karin hung around the Duchess Contest? Did she have any enemies? Too many. Had she been