Deadly in High Heels by Gemma Halliday Page A

lips. "That was going a little too far, wasn't it?"
    I shook my head. "Don't worry. I know what you meant." What she meant was she hated Jennifer. I stored that tidbit away for later.
    "Anyway, we all felt bad for her, you know? I mean swimsuit is a huge portion of our overall score. You don't have your costume, you're screwed."
    "So what did Jennifer do?"
    "Well, luckily there are, like, a million bathing suit shops here. So Dempsey ran out and picked up a couple of different bikinis. Jennifer luckily found one she liked."
    She was lucky. She'd had a perfect sample size body. Anything would have looked good on her.
    "So if you had to guess, who sabotaged Jennifer's wardrobe?"
    New Mexico's eyes went big and round. "Gosh, I don't know," she said. "But I do know that Whitney has come in second place in the last two competitions we've all competed together in." She did a big wide innocent smile that was anything but.
    If I didn't know better, I would say that Miss New Mexico was throwing Whitney under the bus. From everything I'd learned about Whitney, she was doing well in the competition, and she was desperate to win before she aged out—if she wasn't already lying about her age now. She did have an easy access to Jennifer's room. Jennifer and Desi's room was two down from mine and directly across the hall from the one shared by Whitney and Maxine, Miss Arkansas. It would have been fairly easy for Whitney to slip into the room unnoticed and steal Jennifer's top. And with girls going in and out, arriving and changing at the rapid pace I'd seen yesterday, doors were always opening and closing, girls slipping into each other's rooms.
    Which begged the question: where had Whitney been the night of the murder?
    There was one person who I was sure knew of Whitney's nighttime activities: her roommate, Maxine, Miss Arkansas.
    As soon as I finished with Desi, there was a parade of a dozen more contestants coming in and out for their fittings. By the time I finally had a moment to slip back into the auditorium, the interview questions were in full swing. Miss Arkansas was standing on the stage next to Laforge, being read her interview questions for the preliminary round of judging.
    While on the televised version the judges only had to hear the top three finalists give their answers, in the pre-televised portion of the competition all of the contestants participated in a question-and-answer round on which they were scored. I wasn't sure how many the judges had to see today, but by the looks on their faces it was one too many. Ruth Marie looked half-asleep, her elbow resting on the judges' table, her chin in her hand. I'd be hard-pressed to tell you whether her eyes were open or closed, as the wrinkles and extra skin on her face were smooshed up toward her eyelids.
    Jeffries was staring at the contestant on the stage, his eyes glazing over as if he were sleeping with them open.
    Only Dana seemed to be paying attention, though I could tell that the day had taken its toll on her as well. Her usually perfectly styled strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a loose messy knot secured with a pen. The lipstick had been chewed off her lower lip, and there were traces of eye makeup along her cheek as if she'd been rubbing at her eyes.
    "This is our last interview contestant of the day," Laforge told the assembled judges. "We'll conclude with Miss Arkansas."
    Arkansas did a big smile toward the judges as Laforge pulled her question from a fish bowl filled with scraps of paper. "And our question for Miss Arkansas is…" he started
    Maxine's smile froze on her face, and I could see fear in her eyes.
    "What are your feelings on euthanasia?"
    Miss Arkansas blinked her false eyelashes up and down a few times before she began her carefully modulated response. "I was raised with the belief that people the world over deserve the same respect, care, and consideration as people in the United States. We are all one big family of humans, no matter where