The high school auditorium was crowded. And hot. Joanna flipped open a vintage fan with a painted diorama of Mount Fuji and made what breeze she could, since the school’s air conditioning couldn’t keep up.
It was starting to sink in that her involvement in the Stroden murder case was over. Mary Pat didn’t want her help, Detective Roscoe had made it clear he didn’t welcome her butting in, and Paul would rather she stay out of harm’s way. Besides, she didn’t know what steps she’d take next, anyway.
She’d shift her energy to the shop. Maybe Apple would help her paint it. A deep rose sounded nice. She sighed. Who was she kidding? She was disappointed.
A girl’s strident voice caught her attention. It was the know-it-all from the library, from Athena’s Warriors. Cool and calm, she strode to a cluster of moms in the first few rows. Joanna spotted some pricy yoga pants and several thousand dollars worth of handbags.
“Hi, Joanna. You came.”
Joanna turned to find Mindy and Pearl standing at the end of the row. “I wouldn’t miss it. When do you guys go on?”
“We’re in the first showdown,” Mindy said. She’d unbuttoned a few inches of the red knit ensemble’s coat. She might wipe out the competition by sheer force of red polyester alone.
“We’ll get slammed and go home,” Pearl said, resplendent in animal print. “There’s Lucy.” Lucy, avoiding eye contact with Joanna, slumped over, the train of her wedding gown trailing behind her. Together, the girls might have made a hip band.
“Where are your parents?” Joanna asked.
Lucy let out a noise that sounded like “humph,” and Mindy said, “We didn’t tell them.”
“At all? You didn’t tell them you were competing?”
“Why should we? We’d just be a big disappointment.” Pearl picked at a fingernail.
“Where did they think you were all those days you were prepping for the contest?” Joanna asked.
“Why are you here, anyway?” Mindy countered.
“Why else? I wanted to cheer you on.”
Lucy met her eyes and allowed a soft smile. Pearl tried to be cool and shrugged.
“Have you been to one of these before?” Mindy asked.
Joanna shook her head. “It sounds like you don’t expect I’ll be here very long.”
“Sure,” Pearl said, looking at her feet. “We’re on right away. Athena’s Warriors have been studying theme and stuff like that. They’ll spank us.”
“You read the book, right?” Joanna glanced at the program. “Don’t Tell Mom?”
Mindy shrugged. “Sure, we read it.”
The microphone squealed as a middle-aged man with a beard and Hawaiian shirt took the stage. “Welcome to the Story Challenge,” he said. “Teams, please go to classroom B to assemble. We’ll be starting in just a moment.”
The Book Bunnies looked at each other. “We’d better go,” Lucy said.
“Yeah,” Pearl added.
“Joanna,” Mindy said, “thanks for coming.”
She and the girl locked gazes. Mindy’s earnestness plucked at Joanna’s heart. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
The girls shuffled off, the train of Lucy’s bridal gown gathering candy wrappers. Mary Pat would be getting the Stroden mansion ready for her brother’s memorial service now. Caterers would be showing up, Callie Rampton would be closing up the stamp shop and setting out a dress, and Howard would be choosing the right pair of suspenders. Bradley’s friends from Hollywood—if any were coming—would be turning off the cable TV in their hotel rooms and consulting maps to navigate their way to the bluff-top mansion.
Bradley and Luke’s murders hadn’t been solved, but the police were on the case. Mary Pat was no longer worried she was in the murderer’s crosshairs. Gene was planning to go public with his long ago jewel theft, and whatever happened, he’d be moving out of her and Paul’s basement soon.
It’s fine, Joanna told herself. Let it go.
“Thank you, everyone,” the man in the Hawaiian shirt said. “I’m Principal Spindler, and I’d like to welcome you all to the Story Challenge. Here’s how it works. Students from middle schools throughout town read Don’t Tell Mom and formed teams. All summer long, they’ve studied the story and met in groups to make sure they know it inside and out.”
I’ll bet, Joanna thought.
“Today they’ll get to show just how thoroughly they paid attention. Now, I’ll welcome our first two teams, the Portland Roses and the Book Bunnies.”
The teams of three students each filed on stage and took folding metal chairs facing each other. The lanky boys in the Portland Roses wore soccer uniforms. Maybe they wanted to match. Joanna took in the Book Bunnies’ outfits. Even if she didn’t know the kids, she knew which team she’d root for.
“Is that a wedding dress?” a woman behind her whispered. “The other one, the one in leopard, looks like Aunt Marcy, don’t you think?”
“We’ll flip a coin to see which team goes first. I’ll ask the team that loses the toss a question about the book. If the team answers it correctly, I’ll ask the opposing team a question. When a team answers a question incorrectly, that team is disqualified, and the opposing team has the opportunity to answer it. The winners from this round proceed to the next. Are you ready?”
The Portland Roses nodded vigorously. The Book Bunnies sat, blank-faced. The Book Bunnies won the coin toss, so the boys would get the first question.
“Are you ready?” the principal said. “In Don’t Tell Mom, what color are the living room drapes?”
The Portland Roses looked at each other. “That’s not the kind of question you ask,” the tallest of them said.
“Does that mean you can’t answer it?”
“We didn’t study that kind of stuff,” one of the kids said. “I mean, the color of the curtains?”
“Are you passing on this question?” the principal asked.
The pimply boy on the edge folded his arms over his chest and said, “Blue.”
Mindy rolled her eyes. Joanna smiled.
“Book Bunnies?” the principal asked. “The answer was incorrect. Would you like to respond?”
“Yellow,” Lucy mumbled.
“Excuse me?” the principal prompted. “Into the microphone, please.”
“Yellow.”
“With tulips,” Mindy added.
“Duh,” Pearl said.
“That is correct.”
One of the Portland Roses kicked his chair as he left the stage.
The next team, this one two girls and a bespectacled boy, took the seats facing the Book Bunnies, scraping the metal folding chairs against the floor.
As the teams settled, Joanna’s thoughts wandered to the Stroden mansion. What was she missing about the murders? If Luke had blackmailed someone while pretending to be Bradley Stroden, it explained both Stroden’s and his deaths. But the people with the strongest motives couldn’t have committed the crimes. Could the murderer’s motive have been something else?
“In Don’t Tell Mom, the postman mentions a dog having puppies. How many puppies were there, and what were their names?”
The new team answered that one, no problem. Middle schoolers were puppy-savvy, it seemed.
The Strodens again tugged at her brain. Maybe she was all wrong about Starlit Wonder. But what other motive might there be? Callie Rampton had hidden her marriage to Sip. Could Bradley Stroden have been poised to reveal something about it that she wanted hidden? Joanna had spent so much time tracking down the screenplay. Perhaps she should have been turning the mansion upside down for another copy of the memoir to uncover other leads.
From the stage, Mindy’s voice broke into her thoughts. “She was trapped. That’s why Miranda cheated. It was the only way out of camp.”
Trapped. Mary Pat had been taken from the man she loved and her life in Hollywood only to be trapped in the mansion with her brother. She’d certainly have the access to poison her brother’s pastilles and Luke’s coffee. But, kill her brother? That seemed too gruesome to consider. Besides, why now? Why wait all these years?
She clutched the closed fan. Mary Pat inherited. Now she was free. She could sell the mansion and move wherever she wanted. Joanna didn’t know what was in the memoir. Maybe—just maybe—Bradley had something on his own sister.
Despite the auditorium’s heat, Joanna shivered. No. Mary Pat would never have done this. Would she?
The Book Bunnies had apparently vanquished another team. The moms of the Athena’s Warriors sat confidently. One scrolled through her phone.
Mary Pat might have had to kill Luke because he’d somehow figured out that she’d poisoned her brother. He might have tried to blackmail her, too. A fatal mistake.
Detective Roscoe had told Joanna that cyanide used to be a common household poison. The Stroden mansion had been around for a hundred-plus years. Who knew what the garden shed held? Mary Pat would have full access to those poisons.
The memoir, though. Why would Mary Pat shred it and leave it at her own front door? Mary Pat’s words came to mind. She had considered cancelling the memorial service. It just didn’t feel safe, but now we can go ahead. Mary Pat was joyful that she could now go through with the party since the threat of another murder was gone. Why? Why would she force the situation to hold Bradley Stroden’s wake?
The answer sucked the moisture from Joanna’s mouth. She clenched her fan so hard that the bamboo snapped. Mary Pat needed to kill again.
On stage, the Book Bunnies looked alert, despite the heat and their earlier lethargy. They were actually having a good time.
“In the refrigerator, next to the cola,” Mindy said in response to the principal’s question.
“Duh,” Pearl added.
Joanna glanced at her scuffed 1930s gold dancing shoes. First she’d dash home and leave Paul a note saying not to expect her home right away. She could explain the rest to him later. Maybe she’d grab some flat shoes, too. Then, it was off to the Stroden mansion.
She’d be damned if she’d let another person die if she could help it.