Model Crime 1 Page 8

  “Come on,” I murmured to my friends. “Let’s go sniff around a little while everyone’s still distracted.”

  We slipped away from the rest of the group. “What are we looking for?” George asked. “Donald said they already checked Vic’s dressing room.”

  “I bet they didn’t check every trash bin in the stadium,” I said. “If Vic is telling the truth about what happened, it sounds like someone switched out the water-based gel with his usual flammable stuff—probably even put it in the other container, knowing what was likely to happen.”

  Bess’s eyes widened. “Ooh, nasty!”

  “Exactly,” I said grimly. “Which is why we need to find the evidence. We have to get to the bottom of things before whoever’s doing this escalates things even more and somebody gets really hurt, like—”

  “Sydney!” George blurted out.

  I glanced ahead, realizing Sydney had just emerged from the locker room area with her mother and Deb right behind her. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten that she was still holed up getting ready.

  She looked gorgeous dressed as an Egyptian princess, even with a long scarf draped around her neck and chest to hide the ant bites. But her expression was distraught. “This is a disaster!” she cried as soon as she spotted us.

  For a second I thought someone must have already told her what had happened to Vic. But then I saw that she was clutching her green-beaded PDA. She held it up in front of us.

  “I just got a text from River Street Blossoms and Bows,” she wailed. “Someone just canceled the entire flower order for the wedding!”

  FOOD FOR THOUGHT

  After what had happened to Vic, a canceled flower order seemed pretty minor. But it was obvious that it had Sydney on the edge of a breakdown.

  “It’ll be okay,” Bess said, hurrying over and putting an arm around her. “My mom knows Mrs. Rayne over at Blossoms and Bows pretty well. I’m sure if we just call her and explain…”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Ellie Marvin agreed, sounding exasperated. “This isn’t the end of the world, Sydney.”

  “Maybe not.” Sydney sniffled. “But it’s just one more disaster in the larger disaster that my wedding is becoming!”

  Akinyi came hurrying toward us, arriving just in time to hear the last part of what Sydney had said. “Oh, so you heard about Vic’s hair?” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it! Thank goodness he wasn’t burned more seriously.”

  “What?” Sydney blinked. “Vic’s hair? Burned? What are you talking about, Kinnie?”

  I winced. This was the last straw Sydney needed to make her go back to her earlier plan to elope. “Everyone’s okay now,” I said quickly. “Don’t worry.”

  Sydney hardly seemed to hear me, demanding that Akinyi explain what she was talking about. Sure enough, as soon as she heard about the fire, she freaked out, bursting into tears and threatening once more to call off the wedding.

  Luckily Donald arrived on the scene at that moment. Upon hearing the latest problem, he immediately whipped out his cell phone and called the flower shop.

  “There, that’s all fixed,” he announced as he hung up a few minutes later. “They hadn’t even canceled the order with their supplier yet—they wanted to double-check first. So no harm done.”

  Sydney sniffled. “Thanks, Donald,” she said. “I guess we’re down to one disaster for today after all. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I need to go check on poor Vic.”

  “So Vic convinced her to relax and keep going ahead with the wedding?” Ned Nickerson asked.

  I glanced over at him. We were at a quiet table at our favorite Italian restaurant. Ned and I had been a couple for years. But just recently, we’d started a new tradition: Friday date night. We’d been forced to spend way too much time apart a month or two earlier, and that had made us realize we needed to set aside time for each other and stick to it no matter what.

  “Yep,” I said, reaching for my water glass. “It’s kind of amazing. Vic comes across as this totally hyper, larger-than-life, spastic type of character. But he seems to be the only one who can calm Sydney down when she gets really worked up.”

  “Love is an amazing thing,” Ned said lightly, winking at me in the candlelight. “So do you have any suspects yet in the case?”

  I sighed. “A whole slew of them. Unfortunately, none of them are too convincing.” Tapping my fingers on the tablecloth, I thought over the cast of characters involved in the wedding. “There’s the TV director for one.”

  “Hans Eberhart?” Ned said. “Do you really think he’d do something like that? He’s pretty well-known—would he really risk his reputation that way?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure. George seems to think he might harbor a grudge because he doesn’t have the kind of respected, artsy career he should have had after his early success. He could be trying to get that career back on track. Or even just trying to get the show higher ratings.”

  “I guess.” Ned spun a bite of his pasta on his fork, looking somewhat unconvinced. “Who else have you got?”

  “I hate to say it, but there’s Sydney herself. Could she be having second thoughts about filming her wedding and be trying to sabotage it?” I smiled wryly as Ned glanced up from his food in surprise. “I know, I know. I can’t really believe she’d be capable of some of this stuff either. Especially since Vic almost got badly hurt twice now—first by the jet fuel thing, and now the fire.” I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “But I have a definite hunch that there’s something she isn’t telling me about all this. And that makes me wonder.”

  Ned still looked skeptical. “Okay,” he said. “Anyone else?”

  I picked up my garlic bread and stared at it. “Well, I can’t help noticing that Syd’s friend Deb always seems to be close at hand when things go wrong. She refused the jet fuel–laced drink at the party, and she turned up at the filming this morning even though she wasn’t supposed to be there as far as I know.”

  “Deb?” Ned echoed. “Wait, are you talking about the Deb who works at the Pop In and Shop? You think she could be doing all this?”

  “Maybe. What if she’s envious of her old friend’s beauty and success?” I set down the garlic bread without taking a bite, thinking over everything I knew about Deb Camden. “Come to think of it, she’s mentioned she doesn’t have much money—that’s why she’s working at the convenience store, to put herself through school. Could there be some kind of motive there?”

  Ned shrugged. “Anything’s possible,” he said. “You’ve certainly busted less likely suspects before. But listen, what about this Vic guy himself? Is he on your list? Because based on what you’ve told me, he makes a lot of sense as a suspect.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ned put down his fork and starting ticking things off on his fingers. “He could have sent those e-mails. He had access to the invitations. He was the one who ‘discovered’ the jet fuel before anyone drank it.”

  “He was the one who hung that lei around Syd’s neck,” I went on, nodding slowly. “And he’s the one who may have used the wrong hair gel, whether accidentally or not.” I shuddered. “But would anyone really be nuts enough to light his own hair on fire?”

  “You said the show always has medics standing by, right?” Ned pointed out. “Vic would know that too—he’d have to be pretty sure he wouldn’t be too badly injured.” He cracked a smile. “Besides, I’ve seen the show. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d put himself in serious harm’s way. That guy is nuts just to have done half the things he did on there!”

  “You have a point,” I agreed, smiling ruefully in return. “But what’s his motive? He really seems to adore Sydney—why would he hurt her like this?”

  “The dude seems to crave attention, and this is getting him plenty. Maybe he’s not really thinking about the rest.”

  “Okay, but if you want to look at it that way, it seems just as likely that one of the other Daredevils could be behind it,” I said. “Especi
ally that Dragon guy—he’s not even that close to Vic, and George is sure that Dragon thinks his stint on Daredevils will jump-start a showbiz career. And then of course with Pandora there’s the whole love-triangle thing. Maybe she’s trying to break up the wedding to get Vic back for herself.”

  “Maybe,” Ned agreed. “But would she really put her beloved in mortal danger not once but twice?”

  I shrugged. “Like you said, she’d know as well as anyone that the hair gel thing probably wouldn’t be too serious. But maybe that does make her a less likely suspect for the PowerUp prank. That easily could have killed him, and several other people too.” Thinking about the jet fuel incident reminded me of one more name to add to the suspect list. “Then there’s Akinyi,” I said. “She refused to join in on the PowerUp toast. And she was pretty quick to tell Syd what happened with Vic’s hair today—almost like she wanted her to freak out. Besides that, she definitely knew that Syd has sensitive skin and would be more affected than most people by those ant bites.”

  “Why would she want to bust up Sydney’s wedding?” Ned asked. “I thought they were best friends.”

  “Me too,” I said. “But I guess she could be nursing some kind of grudge we don’t know about. Oh! Or maybe it has to do with Josh somehow.” I quickly told Ned about Akinyi’s screenwriter boyfriend. “I just remembered, one of the ideas Josh was telling Eberhart about had something to do with a deadly swarm of bugs! Sounds awfully similar to what happened with those ants…. What if he’s behind this? Or he and Akinyi are doing it all together?”

  “Okay, they would definitely have the means and the opportunity,” Ned said. “But again I ask—why? Where’s the motive?”

  I slumped in my seat, playing with the edge of my napkin. “I have no idea,” I admitted. “Professional jealousy? Or maybe some kind of personal vendetta we don’t know about yet?”

  “Sounds pretty weak.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Definitely weak. But you know me. I’m not giving up until I figure it out.”

  The next day was Saturday, exactly one week before the wedding. It was also the day of Sydney’s bridal shower. Sydney’s parents’ home was only a few blocks from mine, so my friends and I walked over there together.

  “I wish I was going on that retreat instead of to this stupid shower,” George muttered, picking at the waistband of the sundress she’d borrowed from me.

  Bess slapped her hands away. “Leave that alone,” she ordered. “It’s perfect. And stop complaining. You know you wouldn’t have any more fun at some silly all-male ‘retreat’ out in the woods somewhere.”

  I grinned at the expression on George’s face, which said she wasn’t too sure about that. But she didn’t bother to argue the point.

  Vic and the rest of the guys had headed off that morning to the state park a few miles downriver for a day of male bonding. I wasn’t clear on all the details, but I suspected there might be some banging of drums and pounding of chests involved.

  In any case, the whole world would be able to check out those details soon enough. Eberhart and most of the film crew had gone with them to film the whole thing, leaving behind Madge, Donald, and a handful of camera operators and others to record the shower.

  “So did Vic’s family arrive safely last night?” I asked as we walked.

  George nodded. “Sydney talked to him right after they got here,” she said. “His mom and his three cousins who are going to be groomsmen came, along with a couple of others, I think. The rest aren’t flying in until next week.”

  We were almost to the Marvin house by then. “I hope Sydney can manage to relax and enjoy herself today,” Bess said as we headed up the front steps. “She was really upset yesterday.”

  “Can you blame her?” George rolled her eyes. “Her fiancé almost spontaneously combusted.”

  “Hush,” I warned, raising my hand to the doorbell. “We’re here.”

  The door burst open a moment later, revealing Pandora. “Hi, guys!” she gushed. “Come on in—the other bridesmaids and family are all here. We’re just trying to get everything set up before the rest of the guests arrive.”

  I felt a bit underdressed beside Pandora’s outfit, an elaborate Indian sari. Seeing Akinyi and Candy didn’t chase that feeling away. Akinyi looked taller, thinner, and more exotic than ever in a form-fitting modern strapless orange gown and four-inch heels, while Candy was attired in a Victorian-inspired pale-blue gown complete with totally impractical elbow-length white silk gloves.

  Luckily, however, everyone else looked much more normal. Sydney was stylish and pretty in a long-sleeved dress with a patterned silk scarf draped artfully around her neck to cover most of her ant bites. Ellie, Deb, and the other locals were dressed in outfits similar to what my friends and I were wearing.

  Ellie bustled up to greet us and introduce us to Vic’s mother, who was helping Deb fold napkins in the kitchen. Tina Valdez was small and thin, with gray-streaked dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. She seemed to be as quiet and unassuming as her son was brash and in-your-face.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Valdez,” Bess said. “You must be very proud of your son.”

  “Oh, yes.” The woman flashed us an uncertain smile as her eyes darted around the room. “Our whole family is proud of Vic. I just don’t know what to make of all this TV business sometimes, you know?”

  “I can only imagine!” Deb put in with a giggle. “Still, it must be terribly exciting having a celebrity in the family. Like living the lifestyle of the rich and famous!”

  “I’m sure that’s very nice,” Ellie put in, sounding slightly disapproving. “But the most important thing is family, isn’t that right, Tina?”

  “Isn’t what right?” Sydney asked, hurrying in. “Is everything almost done in here? They just turned on the cameras, and the rest of the guests should be here soon.”

  “We’re just about ready,” Ellie told her. “Just waiting for one last delivery from the bakery.”

  Just then there was a knock on the back door. I hurried over to open it and found fifteen-year-old Mary Mackin standing there. Mary’s parents own one of the best bakeries in River Heights.

  “Oh, good,” I said with a smile. “We were waiting for you.”

  “Hi, Nancy,” Mary greeted me cheerfully. She held up a large white bakery box tied with string. “Sorry this is late. It took us a while to make up a new batch of cupcakes after the last-minute change in the order.”

  “Thanks, Mary,” I said, glancing down at the order slip that was stuck into the string on top of the box. “I’ll take care of them.”

  I carried the box over to the table, where Sydney, her mother, George, Tina Valdez, and Deb were just finishing up with the napkins. “Is that the bakery delivery, Nancy?” Ellie asked.

  “Yep,” I said, setting down the box. “Two dozen double-chocolate cupcakes with fudge frosting.”

  “Yum, chocolate cupcakes,” George said hungrily.

  But Sydney just stared at the box—and then burst into tears.

  CAKE MISTAKE

  “What’s the matter?” I exclaimed, startled. “Sydney, what is it?”

  “Chocolate cupcakes?” Sydney wailed. “But I’m allergic to chocolate! That’s why I specifically ordered yellow cupcakes with vanilla frosting!”

  “Oh, dear! Maybe the tag is wrong.” Deb quickly opened the box and peeked inside. “Nope, they’re chocolate all right. But don’t worry, Syd—I’ll run out and buy some vanilla ones somewhere if you want.”

  Sydney was already regaining control of herself. “No, that’s all right,” she said with one last sniffle, grabbing a napkin to wipe her eyes. “Sorry, I guess the stress is getting to me. Of course this is no big deal. It’s not like I have to eat the cupcakes myself for my guests to enjoy them.”

  “That’s right,” Ellie said firmly. “Now, Sydney, pull yourself together. George, Bess, take the napkins out to the sideboard. Deb, grab the coffee urn and put that out too. Tina, if you wouldn’t mind helping N
ancy bring the coffee cups…”

  We all obeyed her orders, scurrying around the kitchen. Just then Candy came hurrying in.

  “People are starting to arrive,” she said. “Where’s the guest of honor? Come on, Syd—get out there and let’s get this party started!”

  “We’re almost ready,” Ellie said. “Candy, be a dear and put those cupcakes on that tray over there, all right?”

  Candy blinked, staring from the open box of fudge-frosted cupcakes to the empty silver tray nearby. “Um, can someone else do it?” she said. “These gloves are way hard to get on and off, and I don’t want to stain them.”

  Ellie frowned, her eyes flashing with irritation. I was afraid the stress was getting to her, too. She looked just about ready to snap—and that was the last thing Sydney needed.

  “I’ll do it,” I offered, shoving the cups I was holding into Candy’s gloved hands. “Here, you carry these.”

  That did the trick. The others hurried out to the living room, and I quickly stacked the cupcakes on the tray. But my mind was elsewhere—namely, over at the Mackins’ bakery. Mary had said something about a last-minute change in the cupcake order. Who had made that change? I wished I’d thought to ask her. Making a mental note to call and ask as soon as I got the chance, I picked up the loaded tray and headed out to join the party.

  The bridal shower proceeded smoothly for the next hour or two. At first most of the guests were a bit giggly and self-conscious about the TV cameras. But they soon relaxed into the event, and even I mostly forgot the cameras were there after a while. Madge was staying out of the way, sitting in the kitchen drinking cup after cup of coffee and occasionally stepping outside to make a phone call. Donald quickly won over the girls and women at the shower with his helpfulness and good cheer as he bustled back and forth refilling the coffee urn and bringing out more food. The camera operators themselves were as discreet as possible, staying mostly in the background.