“Beth! So glad you could join us.” The mayor went over to give her a hug. The woman moved as if to dodge it, but recovered her poise and gave him a church hug. Plenty of space for the Holy Spirit between the two of them.
Beth Thompson was not what I expected. I’d asked the aunties about her, and they informed me that it was a fairly recent marriage—two years at most—and that Beth was fifteen years younger than her husband. Considering this information, Rob’s personality, and his admission that his wife knew and accepted his infidelity, I pictured a shrinking violet. You know, blandly pretty, quiet, happy to accept her husband’s disrespect in exchange for being a kept woman. And with Rob gone, I figured his widow would be wallowing in grief. Or at least playing the part. But Beth Thompson was radiant.
Close to six feet tall, she moved with the grace of a model. There was nothing overtly sexy about the way she walked or dressed, but the confidence she exuded drew your eye to her. She reminded me of Sana in a way, and not just because they were close in age. There was something magnetic about them, something that seemed to say they’d earned their place in life and were comfortable with who they were. I longed for that air of self-assuredness.
I’d planned to observe from the side, see if I could glean the inner workings of this group and how it all connected to Rob’s death, but I felt Beth’s pull. Against my better judgment, I walked over to introduce myself. “Beth? I’m Lila Macapagal, owner of the Brew-ha Cafe and one of the pageant judges. It’s lovely to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“You’re a polite one, aren’t you?” Beth smirked, looking me over. “So you’re the former beauty queen Rob mentioned. Not quite what I was expecting, honey.”
The spell she’d cast over me lifted a bit at that remark—I didn’t need her reminding me I wasn’t beauty queen material. I felt Bernadette’s and Adeena’s influence stirring in me and returned the smirk. “Same goes for you.”
“What, because I’m young and Black?”
“No, because you seem like you have self-respect.”
I almost clapped my hands over my mouth like a child. Oh my gulay, Lila, what was wrong with you? This woman just lost her husband, who she might have killed, by the way. Watch your mouth.
I cringed. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. Um, my condolences.”
I did an awkward head nod/bow and tried to exit the group, but Beth grabbed my arm. “No, it’s fine.” She looked me up and down again, reappraising me. “You’re feistier than I expected. And you do have some style, at least. Maybe this pageant won’t be a waste of my time.”
Mr. Acevedo, the chamber head, cleared his throat. “Thank you for agreeing to take over Rob’s spot on the judging panel, Mrs. Thompson. Are you sure you’re OK with holding the first event tonight? We can postpone it if—”
She waved her hand. “No, we should continue as planned. We can have the news team here and release an official statement, as well as drum up press for the event. We want to nip this in the bud before the Shady Palms News spins their own story.”
Noting the surprise on my face, Valerie leaned over. “She headed the PR department for the Thompson Family Company before marrying Rob. She understands damage control.”
Huh. Guess she really did know what she was getting into. But did that give her more or less of a motive to want Rob dead? Maybe she thought she could change him, or that she wouldn’t be hurt by him since she already knew about his behavior. But then the years went by and she finally snapped. If so, what would’ve been the trigger?
Beth looked at her Cartier watch. “I need to meet with the funeral home to plan Rob’s memorial and want to make sure we’re all on the same page in case the media has questions for any of us.”
Sana raised an eyebrow. “You want us all to spout some predetermined company line? Won’t that seem a bit cold?”
“Trust me, when it comes to talking about Rob, it’s always best to have a little practice beforehand. I’m not saying to read line by line from a card, but maybe don’t rhapsodize on what a saint he was. Anything too effusive will come off fake.”
“And to avoid sounding fake, you want us to have a prepared script to use in public?” I lifted an eyebrow.
Beth gave a bitter smile. “The irony, huh?”
“We all have our roles to play, especially in a town like this,” Valerie said, a resigned look on her face. “Don’t worry, Beth. You won’t have to coach me on what to say.”