Joy beamed at her. “Great idea, Ate Bernie. Does anyone need anything else?” We all shook our heads at her. “Then, Tita Rosie, I’m going to do my homework in your office. I ate before coming here and want to make sure my work’s done before the first pageant meeting tonight.”
After she left, Detective Park said, “Diligent girl. But shouldn’t she be on summer break?”
“She’s going to summer school to make room for more AP classes when school starts. She’s hoping to get an early acceptance into one of Chicago’s top schools for civil engineering,” Bernadette said, her chest puffing up as if she were bragging about her own daughter. “I’m coaching her for the pageant. She could really use the scholarship that comes with the crown. Lord knows, her parents are no help.”
Joy was the younger sister of Bernadette’s best friend, Pinky, a fellow Filipino nurse at the Shady Palms Hospital. I didn’t know much about Pinky, other than she worked hellish hours to provide for her family, so it was nice that Bernadette had taken Joy under her wing.
Detective Park cleared his throat. “Now that we have privacy, we should probably get to business. What we talk about here doesn’t leave this table. Am I clear?” He leveled a look at my gossipy godmothers, who had the nerve to look affronted.
“Detective, shame on you. We would never share classified information,” Ninang Mae said, lying with the face of a saint.
“You better not, because if there’s a leak, I know exactly who to blame. I called you here since you’re all either good sources of information,” he nodded at the aunties, which seemed to mollify them, “or directly involved with the pageant.”
This he directed at me and Bernadette. He continued, “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t get civilians involved, but according to the chief there isn’t even a case. I wanted to get your take on the problem.”
He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and put it on the table between us. At his nod, I picked it up. It took me a minute to decipher the cursive script before reading aloud,
Cancel the pageant if you know what’s good for you
I looked up at him. “That’s it? Ominous, but not particularly threatening. Is the SPPD taking this seriously?”
Detective Park made a noise of frustration. “I tried, but the chief is blowing it off as a prank. Won’t even add extra guards until the final event because it’d be ‘bad optics’ and ‘there’s no room in the budget.’” Even without the gesture, I could hear the air quotes in the detective’s voice. He continued. “Rob Thompson invested fifty thousand dollars and has devoted hundreds of hours on the planning committee to make sure it’s a success. Plus, the mayor has been making a big to-do about it for months. Thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to sweep away the last bits of bad press from, well, you know.” He paused, softening his tone. “How are you doing, by the way? Did you ever get in touch with Dr. Kang? She can do a quick virtual session with you, see if she’s a good fit for—”
I was spared from answering when Lola Flor cut in. “She’s fine. She doesn’t need to talk to a doctor. Now what exactly do you want us to do about this?” she asked, pointing to the note with her lips.
“I was hoping you could tell me all you know about this pageant and the people involved. Has there ever been a problem before? The department may think it’s a hoax, but I’ll be damned if I let any of the kids get hurt.”
Tita Rosie frowned at his use of a swear word, but said, “I’m glad you’re taking this seriously, Jonathan. Miss Teen Shady Palms is very important to our town.”
That was an understatement. Shady Palms lived for this pageant. So many girls tried out for it—or were forced into it—that it had weekly elimination rounds so there’d be a manageable number of contestants for the final event that took place at the Founder’s Day Festival. Momtestants attempting to bribe the judges and getting into fistfights over the evening dress selection at the nearby mall were not unheard of. But actual threats against the pageant itself? Never. As much as I hated the concept of beauty pageants, I knew Miss Teen Shady Palms was a necessary evil. It promised a generous college scholarship, which had allowed quite a few ambitious women, like me, to make it out of this tiny town situated a few hours outside of Chicago and see what the world had to offer.
Something I’d felt extremely guilty about since I officially quit school at the end of last year just a few credits short of receiving a degree. I had already taken a leave of absence to help my ex-fiancé set up his new restaurant, but had planned on going back once we were more settled. After catching him cheating on me, though, I’d hightailed it back to Shady Palms to lick my wounds in peace, leaving my entire Chicago existence, and responsibilities, behind me. Not that that’d been going so well.