Model Crime

  “You’re right, you’re right. It was just a theory.” I sighed. “So where does that leave us?”

  “Well, there’s that director guy,” Bess said uncertainly. “Do you still think he’s a suspect?”

  “A pretty weak one at best,” I admitted, my gaze roving around the waiting room. “The trouble is, no better suspects are leaping out at me based on what we saw today.”

  There was a burst of sudden laughter from across the room. Glancing that way, George wrinkled her nose. “What about Pandora?” she said. “Everyone knows she and Vic were an item during their season of the show. What if she’s still in love with him?”

  “It’s possible, I guess.” I looked over at Pandora, who was once again goofing around with her two fellow Daredevils. “Then again, if we’re speculating about motives, we could also say that Bo or Dragon could be envious of Vic’s huge popularity on the show and trying to get back at him.”

  “Basically, we don’t know most of the people involved well enough to start guessing at stuff like that,” Bess pointed out. “Shouldn’t we stick to the facts and go from there?”

  I smiled. “You’re right, detective,” I said. “So let’s talk about the facts. Who could have slipped away long enough to poison the PowerUp?”

  “I don’t know, but I just remembered something else,” George said, straightening up. “Some people weren’t exactly jumping forward to join in the PowerUp toast.”

  Bess glanced at her. “Yeah. Like us.”

  “No, that’s different,” George said. “Nobody cared if we got up there for the photo op—we’re nobodies. But people were trying to get all the celebs to join in, remember?”

  My eyes widened as I realized she was right. “All the Daredevils stepped up,” I said. “And a few others, too.”

  “But not Akinyi,” Bess finished. “But are you sure that means anything? She said she didn’t want the extra calories. That certainly seems like a valid reason coming from a professional fashion model.”

  George glanced across the room at the statuesque model, who was talking with Candy and Deb and a couple of other people while the burly bald cameraman with the bushy eyebrows filmed their every move. “Yeah,” she said. “But Akinyi definitely looks like the type who comes by her skinny naturally. I can’t imagine she couldn’t spare a few calories in honor of her best friend’s wedding.”

  Bess still looked doubtful. “I just can’t believe one of Syd’s best friends would do this. It’s not like Akinyi was the only one who refused the PowerUp—Deb didn’t want to drink it either, remember? And you guys aren’t jumping all over her about it.”

  “Maybe we should.” I glanced at Deb, who appeared keyed up by the latest excitement as she chattered at the others. “I just don’t think we can write off anybody as a potential suspect until we figure out what’s going on.”

  “Except for Sydney,” Bess said. “Like I was saying before. And I guess that lets out Candy, too, since she was with her when it happened.”

  At that moment I spotted Sydney and Vic emerging once again from the back hallway. His arm was still around her, and he was murmuring quietly into her ear. She’d cleaned up her face, and while her cheeks were still pink with emotion, her expression seemed calmer than it had a few minutes earlier.

  “They’re back,” Bess said, spotting the couple at the same time. “Looks like Vic talked her down.”

  “Good,” I said, observing them. For once, Vic wasn’t sparing even a brief glance at the cameras, which had zeroed in on the pair as soon as they’d appeared. All his attention was focused on his bride-to-be. Actually, judging by the way he was gazing at her with sweet concern in his eyes, I wasn’t sure he remembered the cameras were there at all—or any of the rest of us, either. For the first time, I started to see a hint of what Sydney might see in him.

  Sydney’s mother bustled past them and clapped her hands for attention. “All right, everyone,” she called out. “The doctors have released us, so you all might as well clear out. I think it’s safe to say the welcome party is over.”

  I called Sydney the next morning, hoping to talk over the case with her. But she sounded rushed and distracted as soon as she picked up the phone.

  “Sorry, I can’t talk now,” she said apologetically. “I’m on my way out to get my hair and makeup done. We’re doing that filming at the stadium today, remember?”

  As soon as she said it, I vaguely recalled what she meant. Along with the normal wedding preparations, Sydney was expected to participate in several extra TV shoots. Today, Friday morning, she and her model friends were supposed to get together with the Daredevils gang to act out some unusual international wedding traditions for the cameras. It all sounded pretty silly to me. Fortunately, as noncelebrity members of the wedding party, my friends and I weren’t expected—or even invited, for that matter—to join in.

  “Oh, right,” I said, disappointed that our chat would have to wait. After all, the wedding was a week from tomorrow, which didn’t leave much time to get to the bottom of things. “Well, maybe later, then. Have fun!”

  “I’ll try.” Sydney didn’t sound too optimistic.

  After I hung up, I just stood there in the hallway of my house for a moment, staring at my phone and wondering how to proceed. I was still deep in thought when Hannah Gruen came downstairs. Hannah has been our housekeeper ever since my mom died when I was three. She’s definitely a member of the family as far as Dad and I are concerned.

  “What are you up to today, Nancy?” she asked. “Feel like some shopping? I need to pick up a few things at the mall.”

  “Sorry, Hannah, I can’t,” I said, snapping out of my thoughts. “I think I need to be somewhere else this morning.”

  An hour later, I was walking across the parking lot of the River Heights University Stadium, Bess and George at my side.

  “Are you sure they’re going to let us in?” Bess asked as we neared the main gate. “Security has been pretty tight around this whole production.”

  “Probably be even tighter after what happened yesterday,” George agreed. “Haven’t you ever heard of a closed set, Nance? We’re not on the list for today’s shoot.”

  “We’ll get in,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “How can they turn us away? We’re Sydney’s bridesmaids.”

  Unfortunately, the large man standing guard at the entrance didn’t seem particularly impressed when I shared that with him. “Sorry,” he said, scanning a sheet of paper on the clipboard he was holding. “Not on the list.”

  I bit my lip, frustrated. I’d decided we didn’t have any time to waste if I wanted to solve this mystery before the wedding. Besides, if the saboteur struck again during today’s filming, I wanted to be there.

  “But we just need to talk to Sydney,” I insisted. “If you call her and tell her we’re here—”

  Before I could finish, I spotted Candy and Akinyi coming toward us from inside the stadium. Both of them were dressed in Hawaiian-style outfits, complete with grass skirts.

  “Hi!” Candy greeted us, sounding a little distracted. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you weren’t stuck doing these silly little wedding skits like we are.”

  “We’re not,” I said. “We just wanted to come watch—you know, help out if we’re needed.”

  Meanwhile Akinyi was peering out through the gate. “You haven’t seen Sydney, have you?” she asked us anxiously. “She’s late, and Hans is not happy.”

  “We haven’t seen her,” I said. “But I talked to her on the phone a little earlier, and she was running a few minutes late. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

  “Told you so,” Candy said to Akinyi. “Honestly, do you really have to turn everything into a huge drama fest?”

  Her tone was one of fond exasperation, but Akinyi replied seriously. “Can you blame me, after all that has happened?” she said. “But never mind. Let’s go back in.” She glanced at the guard. “Oh, and it’s okay,” she added, her grass skirt rustling as
she waved a hand at me and my friends. “You can let them in.”

  “Right,” Candy added. “They’re with us.”

  The guard shot me a skeptical glance, then shrugged. “If you say so,” he muttered, waving us by.

  “Thanks,” I told the models as all five of us hurried through the tunnel leading into the stadium. “That guy was taking his job pretty seriously.”

  George chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t think we were going to get past him if you two hadn’t turned up when you did.”

  “No problem,” Akinyi replied with a smile.

  There was no answer from Candy. Glancing over, I saw that her attention was focused on something out on the field. Or, rather, some one. When I followed her gaze, it led directly to Vic. He was standing on the stadium’s artificial turf, flexing his muscles as a couple of cameras filmed him. Like the models, he was dressed in a grass skirt and little else.

  Akinyi noticed too. “You always did spot him first off, didn’t you?” she said with a slight smile. “Too bad he only had eyes for your sister.”

  Candy shot her a sour look. “Very funny,” she muttered. “Come on, let’s get down there.”

  My friends and I followed the pair down the nearest set of steps leading onto the field, which was a hive of activity. People were rushing around everywhere I looked, and weird props and bits of scenery were scattered all over the field. Someone had erected a fake pyramid near the fifty-yard line, near which several horses grazed contentedly on a large pile of hay or sipped from a large water trough. At the base of the steps we were descending at the moment, someone had created what appeared to be a small tropical beach, complete with sand, shells, and a full-size palm tree.

  Even as I took in the unusual scene, I couldn’t help wondering what that weird little exchange between the two models had been about. But before I could ponder it much, we all heard a familiar voice behind us breathlessly calling out, “I’m here, I’m here!”

  It was Sydney. She rushed into the stadium with her mother behind her. Sydney looked beautiful—she was dressed in what I assumed was supposed to be a Hawaiian-style wedding gown. It was pure white, but the fabric included a white-on-white Hawaiian print. Sydney’s red hair was swept up into a loose updo, only a few tendrils spilling out over her bare shoulders.

  Most of the camera crew came hurtling toward them to film the bride’s arrival. I had to jump out of the way as the bushy-browed cameraman almost crashed into me.

  “Excuse us! Please step aside, if you don’t mind.” Donald the PA came bustling up to us, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, you guys. The bride’s entrance is part of the show. Can you watch from over there?”

  We obediently stepped back out of camera range. Donald rushed away as Vic strode toward his bride, beaming happily. Sydney paused at the edge of the fake beach as her mother hurried off out of view. Bo and Dragon, both attired similarly to Vic, took their places next to the other two models in the background.

  “Aloha, my beautiful bride!” Vic said loudly, sweeping into a bow. “I wish to welcome you with the traditions of the island of Hawaii, where the two of us decided to announce our love to the world by becoming engaged.”

  I might not have known Vic very well yet, but I couldn’t help noticing that the words didn’t exactly sound like something he would come up with on his own. Glancing over, I saw that Donald was holding up cue cards just off camera.

  “So this is reality TV, huh?” Bess whispered into my ear. “Interesting version of ‘reality,’ isn’t it?”

  I grinned at her. When I turned my attention back to what was happening, I saw that Vic had just swept a lush Hawaiian lei out of a rustic-looking wooden box on the “beach” nearby. The lei was similar to the ones Akinyi and Candy were already wearing, but this one was pure white, bursting with gorgeous orchids and other tropical-looking flowers.

  “Aloha nui loa,” Vic said as he draped the lei over Sydney’s head.

  Sydney blushed. “Aloha nui loa,” she said shyly as the flowers settled around her neck. She smiled up at Vic, looking blissfully happy.

  “What’s all that aloha stuff mean?” George muttered. “I hope there are going to be subtitles with this thing.”

  Vic was smiling down at his bride. He leaned closer, clearly about to go in for a kiss.

  But suddenly Sydney’s expression changed. Her eyes widened, she let out a yelp of alarm, and her hands flew up toward the white lei.

  “Ow!” she cried, yanking at the lei and dancing up and down. She let out a shriek of pain as she tugged at it. “They’re biting me!” she exclaimed, doing her best to rip the lei off over her head. “They’re biting me!”

  I gasped. Clearly visible against Sydney’s creamy skin were hundreds of tiny black insects swarming all over her neck and shoulders!

  REALITY BITES

  “They’re ants!” Vic shouted, grabbing the lei and ripping it off Sydney’s neck, sending white petals flying in every directions.

  “Oh my gosh—somebody do something!” Donald the PA exclaimed, hurrying forward and flapping his hands helplessly in Sydney’s direction.

  Meanwhile Sydney was still crying out in pain as she spun in circles, trying frantically to brush off the tiny insects. My friends and I rushed forward to help, along with Sydney’s mother, Candy and Akinyi, and most of the other people within view. But I was blocked by the bushy-browed cameraman, who stepped in front of me for a better view, filming every second of Sydney’s distress.

  “Excuse us!” Bess said firmly, trying to push past him.

  That did about as much good as trying to shove aside the Sears Tower. The cameraman held his ground, ignoring us. “This is great stuff,” he muttered with a barely muffled, rather mean-spirited guffaw. “Awesome.”

  We managed to dodge around him just in time to see Vic brush Donald, the other models, and Aunt Ellie aside. “I’ve got this,” he said grimly, scooping Sydney into his arms like a wriggling puppy.

  “They’re biting me!” she whimpered, still slapping at herself. “Vic, they’re biting me!”

  “Hang on, baby.” Vic raced across the field, carrying her toward the horses I’d noticed earlier. For one crazy moment I thought he was planning to leap onto one of the beasts and ride off into the sunset like some demented cowboy. Instead, however, he headed straight over to the big water tank and dropped Sydney into it.

  Water splashed out over the sides, and Sydney let out a squeak of surprise just before her head went under. “Good thinking,” George said, watching along with the rest of us. “That’s probably the quickest way to get them off her.”

  She was right. Within a moment or two, Sydney was ant-free. Vic flicked a few ants off his own bare chest, then helped Sydney out of the water tank as the surprised horses looked on.

  “What are you all waiting for?” he called irritably, glancing toward the rest of us. “Somebody get her a towel or something!”

  “I’ll go! I think there’s a robe in the dressing room!” Deb called out.

  “I’ll come help you find it,” Candy offered.

  “What’s Deb doing here?” George said in surprise as the two of them hurried off in the direction of the locker rooms. “I thought all us nonceleb bridesmaids were supposed to be off the hook for today.”

  I shrugged. Until that moment I hadn’t noticed that Deb was there either. But the reason for her presence seemed like one of the least important questions of the moment.

  Sydney was huddled up against Vic, shivering and dripping as the rest of us hurried over. “This is a nightmare,” she moaned, staring tearfully at one of her arms. “They must’ve bitten me, like, a zillion times. And the bites are already starting to swell. Look!”

  Sure enough, there were already several angry red welts standing out against her pale skin. “Whoa!” Bo said, staring at them. “What kind of psycho-freak ants were those?”

  “She’s got sensitive skin,” Akinyi told him. “It doesn’t take much to make her swell up like crazy.”

&
nbsp; “That’s right.” Ellie was already examining the ant bites. “Oh, dear. I should call your father to see if we still have some of your allergy medicine—maybe that would help.” Suddenly noticing that several camera operators were still filming, her face suddenly went stern. “Turn those cameras off right now!” she ordered.

  At that moment Deb reappeared carrying a tube of something. “Look, we found some anti-itch stuff!” she said. “Candy’s still back there looking for the robes. Here, let’s put this on you before those bites get any worse.”

  “Cool,” Vic said gratefully. “Hear that, baby? This stuff’ll help.”

  “Thanks, Deb,” Sydney said with a sniff. “But I think it’s too late for that.” Still, she stood there and allowed her friend to dab the cream onto her arms and shoulders.

  Meanwhile Ellie Marvin was marching toward the closest cameraman, Mr. Bald-and-Bushy. “I said, turn those things off!” she said, shaking one finger in the man’s face. “This isn’t part of the deal, and my daughter doesn’t need to be subjected to you people’s sick curiosity and utter lack of human decency.”

  Hans Eberhart had been standing back watching the scene unfold with everyone else. Now he hurried forward. “Now, now, Mrs. Marvin,” he said. “Let’s not get upset. Remember, Daredevils is a reality show, eh? And so things like this will happen. After all, reality can be so incredibly…real, sometimes!”

  Ellie glared at him. “Exactly what’s so real about all this?” she demanded, waving an arm at the fake pyramids and palm trees.

  Eberhart turned toward Vic and Sydney. “Please, Sydney,” he said. “Can you explain to your dear mother about how reality TV works?”

  Sydney sniffled. “Sorry, but this is all getting a little too un real for me,” she said. “I need a moment. Excuse me, everyone.”

  Pulling away from Deb, who was still busily tending to her bites, she raced off toward the locker rooms. “Oh, dear,” Donald murmured.