CHAPTER 25

I had a lot of things to do this morning. I’d scheduled workers to arrive at Holt’s super early to block off the parking lot and begin setting up for tomorrow’s festival. Throughout the day, I would oversee different phases of preparation. All normal stuff.

I’d dressed in black pants and sweater, and put my hair in an I’m-in-charge-but-I’m-still-fun low ponytail, my usual event planner’s uniform for prep day.

But I didn’t head for Holt’s when I left my apartment. The festival staging would have to proceed without me for a while. I wasn’t worried. The companies I’d hired to do the work were top-notch. I’d dealt with them before. And if a problem arose, they would give me a call.

First thing this morning when I rolled out of bed, I’d checked the Internet. I was anxious to see if Josephine Ramsey had come through with her pledge of getting Crown Girl’s post taken down. She had. The story was nowhere to be found.

Now I was headed to Mom’s house to give her the news. I could have called her, but I felt this was something I had to do in person—and I had to be a mature adult about it, somehow.

When I exited the 210 and wound through the streets toward my parents’ house, the other major situation in my life flew into my head.

All night, I’d thought about my startling revelation yesterday that Carrie had murdered Asha, and I was still convinced I was right—even though Shuman hadn’t seemed excited about my solving the case for him. He’d promised to interview Carrie again today and, hopefully, he’d uncover some crucial info that would put an end to the investigation today—or she would confess. It sure would make things easier on everybody when those investigative journalists showed up at the festival tomorrow.

When I pulled into my parents’ driveway, I parked and jumped out of my Honda. Juanita opened the front door before I got there. She looked tense.

Not a good sign.

“She’s in that same room,” she said, wringing her hands.

“Relax,” I said. “Everything’s fine. The problem disappeared.”

“Are you sure?” Juanita still looked troubled.

“Don’t worry. Nobody’s moving to Sri Lanka, or anywhere else.”

I headed through the house to the media room. The lights were low; the television was off. Mom sat on the sofa. She had on jeans and a sweatshirt—which I hadn’t even known she owned. Her hair was still wet from the shower, she had on no makeup, and she was staring off at nothing.

“Good news, Mom,” I announced, as I walked over.

A few seconds passed before she looked up at me.

“Oh, Haley. Hi, sweetie.” She looked lost for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning. Or was I?”

“I came by to tell you something,” I said, and dropped onto the sofa next to her. “That story about the Miss California Cupid pageant has been taken down. It’s not on the Internet. It’s gone for good.”

Mom looked stunned, as if she didn’t really comprehend what I was saying.

“You don’t have to worry about anybody gossiping about the pageant or anything,” I said.

“How . . . how do you know?”

She’d made me promise not to get involved so I didn’t want to tell her I’d gone against her wishes. I was afraid divulging the truth about my visit to the Golden Years Care Center would upset her further.

“I read it on the Internet,” I said.

It was a lie, of course, but it could have happened.

“The whole story was a complete fabrication, apparently, written by someone who just wanted to stir up trouble. You know how those Internet things are,” I said.

Mom didn’t look convinced so I went on.

“And I heard there was a threat of a lawsuit,” I said. “That’s why the story was taken down, and why it will never be mentioned again.”

She chewed her bottom lip and glanced away for a few seconds, then looked at me again.

“You’re certain?”

“Absolutely.”

Mom drew a breath and let it out slowly, then said, “That is good news. Thank you, sweetie, for coming over and letting me know.”

I’d expected her to be happier, more relieved that the situation was over and done with, never to return. Instead, she still looked . . . sad.

“Aren’t you happy, Mom?” I asked.

She gazed across the room again and said, “This incident has given me a lot of time to think and . . . remember.”

I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that she was staring at the Back to the Future movie poster again.

Was she looking at it, wishing she could go back in time before Crown Girl posted that story and started this whole upsetting situation?

I figured that must be it. I mean, what else—

Then it hit me.

There was another reason Mom wanted to go back, maybe all the way back to the Miss California Cupid contest.

She had been nineteen at the time. Ted had been a handsome, wealthy, sophisticated older man. Her tryst with him had been something more than a fling.

She’d actually been in love with him.

Looking at her now, seeing that haunted expression on her face, I knew I was right.

Had Ted felt the same about her?

I didn’t know, but I hoped he did.

Obviously, they’d ended it.

Their age difference—some twenty years—was significant. He’d been married and probably had children by then. These were major hurdles, not easily overcome.

I wondered which one of them had made the decision.

I wondered, too, if I’d been wrong about Mom’s concern over Crown Girl’s tell-all. This whole thing wasn’t about Mom’s reputation, if it came to light that she was the contestant who’d slept with a judge. Maybe she wasn’t even worried so much about the public’s perception of beauty pageants.

It was Ted’s reputation she wanted to keep intact.

My thoughts jumped to my dad. Where did he fit into this? Had Mom settled for him?

Mom and Dad were an odd pair. They were total opposites, so I’d often wondered why they’d married. I’d always figured it had been true love.

Now I wasn’t so sure.

“Thank you, Haley,” Mom said. “Thank you for coming over here to give me the news.”

“You know, Mom, if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here for you.”

She smiled the genuine mom-smile I’d seen all my life.

“And I’m here for you.” She paused for a moment. “I know things are often strained between us. We’re so different. But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know, Mom,” I said.

“No, you don’t.” She shook her head. “You’ll know one day, if you have a child of your own. If that happens, you’ll understand that there is nothing a mother won’t do for her child. Absolutely nothing.”

It hit me that perhaps one of the things she’d done was to end her affair with Ted back in the day. If she’d kept up her involvement with him, the stigma of how she’d broken up his marriage would have followed her for years, and would have affected their children, too.

Mom had never said anything like that to me before. I’d never known her to be so passionate—especially about anything to do with me. It was really nice.

“Anything, Haley. I’d do anything.” Mom grinned. “Even if it caused me to break a nail.”

She giggled and I giggled. Then we hugged.

“I have so many urgent matters to attend to today,” Mom said, springing off of the sofa. “I have to get my hair done, of course, and I could use a fresh pedi. My goodness, my day is suddenly packed.”

Mom was back to being Mom again, which I was totally cool with.

“Later,” I called and left the house.

As I climbed into my Honda, I considered going back inside and telling Mom where she could find Ted. But then I thought better of it. Maybe she’d rather remember him as he was, back in the day when he was young, healthy, and vital.

I decided, too, that whatever had gone on in the past between my parents was their business, not mine. I was staying out of it.

But my heart ached a little for Mom. I wondered what other burdens she might have carried all these years.

With that ache came thoughts of Ty.

Would part of my heart always belong to him? Would I look back on my decision to forget about him and, one day, wonder what if?

I sat there in my car for a few minutes, thinking. Maybe I should call Amber and ask if she’d heard from Ty.

I grabbed my cell phone.

I scrolled through my contact list.

I called Liam instead.

* * *

When I rolled into the Holt’s parking lot a little later, I was pleased to see that the crew I’d hired was already at work. From the quick look I got, everything seemed to be on schedule. The festival area had been blocked off, booths were being set up, and construction on the runway for the fashion show was moving along quickly.

I grabbed my things and got out of the car. I hoped I’d see Detective Shuman’s plain vanilla cop-mobile. He’d promised he would interview Carrie today, and I really wanted him to get to it this morning.

Everybody would breathe easier when Asha’s murder was solved.

Shuman’s car was nowhere to be seen, so I headed into the store. If he didn’t show up soon, I’d give him a call.

Checking in with Jeanette was my first priority—but it would be for her benefit, not mine. She’d want a status report on progress. I’d already spoken with Elise in marketing on the drive here and given her an update.

There was a lot of hand-holding involved with being an event planner.

When I got inside of Holt’s, two of the checkout lanes were open and a few customers were in line. I’d seen the advertising blitz that had gone out announcing the festival that would begin tomorrow, compete with deep discounts and the special sales, so I wasn’t surprised the store was so empty this morning.

As I headed for the breakroom to stow my handbag—a fabulous Marc Jacobs—Bella hurried out of the women’s clothing department and cut me off.

“You want to hear some b.s.?” she demanded.

I always wanted to hear some b.s.

But from the look on her face, I knew this wasn’t ordinary, run-of-the-mill, b.s.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Sandy. That sorry, no-good idiot of a boyfriend of hers.”

“Oh my God. Last night was her big birthday dinner,” I said.

“Nope,” Bella said. “It was a total bust.”

Oh, crap.