ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND PAGEANTS 5 страница

“I really barely know her,” I told Kelly. “She’s a classmate of my boyfriend, Ned. She was in the neighborhood shopping yesterday, recognized me, and asked to borrow my phone.” I shrugged.

Kelly smiled. “Oh, Nancy, I know this makes me sound like the hugest dork, but that’s such a relief.” She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder, moving closer. “I knew you were too nice to be friends with someone like her. I just saw you together, and — I don’t know — I was afraid she’d corrupted you or something.”

I shook my head. “I am one hundred percent uncorrupted.”

Kelly smiled wider, showing all her teeth. “Tell you what. Why don’t you ride home with me and Dad and we can have a private lunch at Chez McMahon?” she asked. “My dad brought home some new cosmetics the other night. We can look through my stash and see if anything suits you.”

I nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

Kelly linked her arm through mine, and we went off to find her father.

“How are you ladies doing?” asked Kyle for the third time an hour or so later, appearing in the dining room. “More soda for either of you? I bought fresh brownies at the bakery yesterday.”

“We’re fine, Dad, thanks.” Kelly shot me an embarrassed look, but I waved my hand in a don’t worry about it gesture. Truthfully, though, I found Kyle’s constant supervision more than a little odd. When we’d arrived home with take-out from a local sandwich shop, Kyle had told us he was going to eat in his den — “lots of work to catch up on,” he’d said, explaining, “I’m working at home today.” But since then, he’d come in to check on us every ten minutes. Maybe Kelly was right, and he really was incredibly protective of his daughter. But his suffocating behavior made me wonder if he had something to hide.

“Anyway,” Kelly said as I crunched on a pretzel and Kyle headed back to the kitchen, “the one thing I will miss when I give up the crown is the charity work. Portia chose leukemia awareness as her platform, her big issue to publicize as Miss Pretty Face, so I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals, hanging out with sick kids. They’re really amazing, Nancy. You’d think they would be sad or hard to talk to, but they’re so sweet and bubbly and grateful for your attention.” She paused to take a sip of soda. “It’s made me think about becoming a doctor. I’ve always gotten pretty good grades in science.”

“That’s great,” I said. “And I’m sure you can keep visiting the kids after you give up the crown. You know, unofficially.”

Kelly nodded. “I definitely will. Hey, maybe you could come with me sometime, Nancy. I bet you’d like it.”

“Sure, just tell me when you’re going.”

Kelly smiled. “I will!”

I took a sip of my soda, then leaned forward in my chair confidentially. “So, speaking of giving up your crown,” I said quietly, “who do you think will replace you?”

Kelly looked uncomfortable. “You mean…?”

“Who will win tomorrow?” I asked with an encouraging smile. “Come on, you can tell me. And no ‘It’ll be you, Nancy.’”

Kelly laughed. “Oh, come on,” she said. “I think it might be you, honestly.”

I scoffed. “Stop trying to butter me up. I’ve improved, but I still wouldn’t bet on me.” Kelly shook her head uncomfortably. She was so sweet, I knew she didn’t like implying in any way that I wasn’t a great beauty queen — even if it was just by agreeing with me. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Personally?” I said. “I don’t think anyone has a chance of beating Fallon.”

Kelly looked up, seeming relieved to be able to say something positive. “She is really good,” she admitted. “She’s been in a lot of pageants. She just has this presence about her.”

“How was she in last year’s pageant?” I asked, hoping Kelly would take the bait.

“Oh, she didn’t compete last year,” Kelly replied. “She dropped out because she got mono.”

I nodded slowly, like I was thinking something over. “That’s funny.”

Kelly looked alarmed. “What?”

“I have a friend on the high school cross-country team,” I replied. “She mentioned running with Fallon last year. You couldn’t run with mono, could you?”

I couldn’t help but notice that Kelly was beginning to look super uncomfortable. Which was good because it meant I might be getting somewhere — but bad for me because it meant my friend had something to hide.

She shrugged. “Can you? I don’t know.”

“I also thought I heard someone mention that you guys were related.” Kelly looked up, then quickly away. Her expression didn’t seem to deny what I was saying, but she didn’t look happy to share the information, either.

“We’re cousins,” Kelly replied, shoving a piece of apple in her mouth.

“Are you close?” I asked.

Kelly swallowed and shrugged again. “We used to be,” she said with a sigh. “Our parents still hang out a lot. But honestly, ever since we’ve been teenagers, Fallon doesn’t…” She paused. “Fallon doesn’t seem very interested in being close.”

I nodded. “Oh.”

“You see how she is,” Kelly went on, shooting me a knowing look. “She can be… prickly. So I kind of keep my distance.”

I nodded again. “Do you know if she really had mono?” I asked.

Kelly sighed. “What does it matter?”

I paused, choosing my words carefully. “It just seems like a lot went on with the pageant last year,” I said. “And I can’t imagine why someone as competitive as Fallon would willingly drop out, then lie about it. I just want to know what happened, in case, you know, something comes up at this year’s pageant.”

Kelly looked down at the remains of her sandwich for a long time. Then she looked up and met my eyes. “This is the truth, Nancy,” she said quietly. “I don’t know why Fallon dropped out last year. And yes, it seemed really strange to me too.” She paused. “Ever since she was little, Fallon wanted to be a beauty queen. We used to make our Barbie dolls compete in pageants all the time. As soon as she was old enough, Fallon started entering them. And she did pretty well. She would place second or third, but she could never win the crown.” She sighed. “Then last year’s Miss Pretty Face happened. She was totally gung-ho at the first two rehearsals. So into it, like this was the most important thing she’d ever done — like she had to win. And actually, I don’t know what happened, but she was doing really well. It looked like she would win. Then suddenly…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I came to rehearsal one day and she wasn’t there. Cupcake told us she’d withdrawn from the competition because she had mono. I knew she didn’t; I knew from her parents that she was fine and running cross-country and doing the things she always did.”

“Did you confront her?” I asked.

Kelly nodded. “Like I said, we weren’t close. But I was still competing in the pageant — my dad thought it would be ‘good for me’” — she rolled her eyes — “so at a family dinner, I asked her privately why she’d dropped out.”

I nodded. “What did she say?”

“She said to mind my own business.” Kelly frowned. “She said it wasn’t important, and something weird about how she had a plan, that she’d come out on top.”

Hmmm. A plan?

“Then she added a lot of other nasty stuff about how I would never win, blah blah blah. I think she just wanted me to stop asking.”

At that point, we heard footsteps approaching the dining room. Both of us looked up to see Kyle entering, again — this time with a plate of brownies.

“I just couldn’t resist,” he said with a bright smile. “I had to have one of these for dessert. I figured you ladies would like some too.”

Kelly and I smiled and thanked him. I, at least, was hoping that the less we said, the sooner he would be on his way. But unfortunately, he stayed in the doorway after putting the plate down on the table, looking from Kelly to me with a sympathetic expression.

“You both looked so serious when I came in,” he said gently. “It’s far too pretty a day for worries or conspiracy theories, don’t you think?”

I stiffened. Conspiracy theories? Had he listened to our conversation?

Kelly waved him away. “We’re fine, Dad,” she said firmly, but with a smile. “We were just gossiping about the pageant. Teenage girls are allowed to gossip.”

Kyle just smiled. “So you keep telling me.” He turned and left the room. I listened to make sure his footsteps went all the way down the hall; they did.

As soon as Kyle left, Kelly’s face turned thoughtful again. She picked up a brownie and toyed with it, breaking off a tiny piece and chewing it with a frown. “Nancy?” she said after a few seconds. “Can I tell you something?”

I looked up, surprised, and nodded. “Of course you can,” I said encouragingly. “Anything. You know you can trust me.”

Kelly sighed and continued picking at the brownie, focusing on it rather than me. “Remember what I told you about Portia back at the high school?”

I nodded. “Sure. What about it?”

“Everything I told you is true. She was a difficult Miss Pretty Face, and I didn’t like her attitude, even back in the first rehearsals. But there’s more.” She glanced up at me hesitantly.

“What is it?” I asked. I knew Portia could be unpleasant — but what had she done to Kelly?

“Before Fallon dropped out,” she went on, “the day before, we had a totally normal rehearsal. Fallon was in good spirits, really excited to win. Cupcake kept praising her and giving her little winks and stuff.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Afterward, I was a little late leaving, because I lost an earring and I went looking for it,” Kelly continued. “I finally found it, but it took me at least twenty minutes to find it. When I got to the parking lot, I expected everybody to be gone. But instead, over by the bleachers, I saw Portia and Fallon.” She paused, meeting my eye. “I thought they barely knew each other. Had just met at the rehearsals, like all of us. But they were having what looked like a huge argument.”

I leaned in. “An argument?” Kelly nodded. “What were they saying?”

“I couldn’t hear.” Kelly shrugged. “I mean, bits and pieces. I heard Fallon say, ‘You couldn’t.’ And several times, I heard Portia say, ‘Next year’ — like that was a big deal. Portia had a folder with her, and she kept showing Fallon whatever was inside. Fallon looked really upset.”

My mouth had dropped open. Next year. Like, you can compete next year. And the folder. What had it contained? Doctor’s bills? Photographs?

Portia!

“The next day,” Kelly went on, “Fallon dropped out. Just like that. And suddenly, Portia becomes the front-runner. And she went on to win.” Kelly shook her head. “I don’t know what their conversation was about. And I don’t have proof it’s related to Fallon leaving the competition. But ever since then, I really haven’t trusted Portia.” She paused, then bit into her brownie. “Maybe that’s not fair of me. But it’s true.”

I grabbed a brownie and shoved it into my mouth. I couldn’t believe this. All this time I’d been working so hard to exonerate Portia, taking her abuse, and it seemed like…

“Can I ask you one more thing?” I asked, swallowing my brownie with a sip of soda. Kelly’s earlier words were echoing in my mind. Fallon had a plan, that she’d come out on top. I had an awful feeling I had found the link between Fallon’s blackmailing and Portia’s dethroning.

“Sure,” Kelly agreed.

“Does Fallon also know Candy Hokanson, your family friend? The owner of Fleur?”

Kelly frowned now, looking confused. “That’s her aunt,” she replied. “I mean, on her father’s side, so she’s not my aunt. But, Nancy…” She looked me in the eye, clearly upset now. “Why do you care about that? Why are you asking so many questions?”

I sighed. “Kelly,” I said, realizing that once I made a move on my theories, my cover was about to be well and truly blown, “there’s something I have to confess to you.”

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND PAGEANTS

“So this is a confrontation?” Ned asked me as we walked across the university campus together. Actually, we were following the same wooded path where I’d been so sure someone was following me the other night — a theory that was looking pretty unlikely now. We were on our way to meet Portia for dinner at the Seaver Hall cafeteria. Normally I would meet with her alone, but I was bringing Ned along this time because I was pretty sure she’d be unhappy with my news.

“More or less,” I agreed with a sigh. “When I told Portia my suspicions about Fallon, she seemed upset. At the time, I thought it was just because she didn’t think it was related to her dethroning. But now I realize the truth. Portia had some sort of angry confrontation with Fallon one night after rehearsal, and by the next morning, Fallon had dropped out of the competition? When she was the frontrunner and had been gung-ho about pageants her whole life? Sounds shady to me.”

Ned nodded. “So you think Portia blackmailed Fallon.”

“To make her drop out of the competition,” I added. “So that she could get the crown and the prizes, and Fallon could compete this year, when she’d still be eligible.”

Ned shook his head in disbelief. “Wow.”

I paused on the path. “Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked. “Do you know something about Portia that would prevent her from being a blackmailer? I almost wish you did. I would give anything to avoid this conversation.”

Ned was still shaking his head. He gave me a comforting look. “No, don’t be silly,” he said. “This may not be pretty, but as usual, your hunch sounds right on. Portia does seem a little … aggressive. Willing to do anything to get what she wants. I just feel terrible for getting you involved in this case. All this time, you were working for a blackmailer.” Ned frowned. “Wait, so who’s responsible for setting up Portia? Or do you think she actually stole those dresses?”

I shook my head. “No, that’s the crazy thing. Portia didn’t steal those dresses. She was telling the truth about that; she just left out a very important part of her getting the crown in the first place. Fallon may be planning to win Miss Pretty Face this year, but I don’t think that means she’s forgiven and forgotten. I think she was furious about losing out last year and she wanted to see Portia get her due. So she went to her aunt — who just happens to be the owner of Fleur —”

“And she set Portia up,” Ned finished. “Wow, Nance. These pageants are crazy, aren’t they?”

I nodded. “To be honest with you, right now I can’t wait to lose Miss Pretty Face and be done with the whole thing.”

Ned sighed. We had reached Seaver Hall, and hungry students were flooding inside. The two of us, though, were hesitating. I wasn’t looking forward to confronting Portia, and I don’t think Ned was either.

“I guess we’d better go in,” Ned said.

“I guess so.” I gave Ned a hesitant look, and he took my hand in his and began walking to the entrance.

“I promise you, Nance,” he said with a wry smile, “the next client I throw your way won’t be this crazy.”

“What? WHAT?” Portia looked furiously from me to Ned and back, then stood up, shoving her chair back from the table. “WHAT did you just say?”

All around us, students turned from their chicken dinners to face the three of us. Portia glared down at the two of us, her mouth pulled into a taut line.

“I said,” I replied quietly, shooting apologetic looks to our fellow diners, “that I know who blackmailed Fallon last year. I know it was you, Portia.”

Portia shook her head, slowly settling back into her chair. “Not only is that preposterous, it has nothing to do with the case I hired you to solve.”

“Portia, witnesses saw you fighting with Fallon in the parking lot that afternoon,” I went on in a low voice. “They saw you showing her a folder, and her getting visibly upset while you kept saying ‘next year.’ Everyone knows that Fallon was the front-runner. And now I know that you blackmailed her to drop out of the competition or you’d expose the fact that she’d had a nose job.” I paused. “You went on to win the competition. You thought it had worked out for you.”

Portia was staring at me in disbelief. “Who saw me in the parking lot?”

I looked away. “That’s not important. It all makes sense, Portia. You might as well just tell me you did it, because it relates to your getting set up.”

Portia stared at me a long time, like she was trying hard to not believe me. Finally, though, she spoke. “All right. Maybe I did do it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ned shaking his head.

“I don’t see why it matters,” Portia went on. “Fallon and I have known each other forever. We weren’t close friends, but we went to St. Claire’s together — you know, the elementary school across town.”

I nodded. St. Claire’s was a small private school that went up to sixth grade. Most of its students joined the public school system in middle school, but the St. Claire’s kids always seemed to have a special bond, since there were so few of them.

“Fallon was always so pretty, but she had this kind of funny, droopy nose. We used to make fun of it when we were little. Calling her Banana Nose and stuff.”

I cringed. I got the feeling that by “we,” Portia meant “I.” Despite myself, I felt a little bad for Fallon.

“When she was gone for so long one February, I wondered what she could be doing. And then when she came back…” Portia looked down at her dinner, laughing. “I couldn’t believe it! The surgeon she went to was great, and it was subtle. But are you kidding? Did she think I wouldn’t notice her Banana Nose was gone? Please!”

“Did you confront her then?” I asked.

Portia shook her head. “Why bother? I just made note of it. And when I heard about the Miss Pretty Face pageant and all the prizes you could win, I signed up. I’d never been in a pageant before, but I wanted that scholarship. And I figured, hey, if Banana Nose could place in beauty contests even before she got it shaved off, I’d have a pretty good shot!” She chuckled to herself. “But when I signed up, Fallon was there. And she had the experience. And she did great in all of the rehearsals and competitions. And she had the new nose.” Portia shook her head. “It made me crazy. As long as Banana Nose was in the competition, I didn’t have a chance.”

“So you blackmailed her,” I supplied.

Portia glared at me. “Not right away,” she said. “I was reading some of the materials they gave us at home one night, and I noticed one of the conditions for competing: You can’t have, or have ever had, plastic surgery. And I knew I had my shot.”

Ned sighed. “You don’t seem at all ashamed about this,” he observed.

Portia stiffened. “Why should I be? Fallon broke the rules. I didn’t set her up. She did it to herself. Actually, I cut her a break. I could have reported her to the pageant officials, but I didn’t. I gave her the option of dropping out. I got the crown, she got to compete in this year’s pageant — everybody wins!”

I laid down my fork. “I don’t think Fallon sees it that way,” I told Portia.

She looked at me curiously.

“Fallon’s aunt is the owner of Fleur,” I continued. “And Fallon told Kelly after she dropped out that she ‘had a plan’ — that she would still come out on top.” I paused. “Are you following me? A girl who has a legitimate motive to hurt you, or at least to mar your reputation, is related to the woman who brought you down.”

Portia’s eyes widened. “Fallon?” she asked. “You think Fallon set me up to be dethroned?”

I glanced at Ned, not responding. I could see Portia’s face going through the information: confusion, then understanding, and then… anger.

“Oh my God,” Portia breathed, shoving her dinner away. “Oh my God. That little rat. That little banana-nosed wannabe!”

“Portia,” I cautioned, “you did…”

“Blackmail her, okay, all right, you said that already!” Portia grabbed her paper napkin off her tray and squeezed it in her fist. She looked from Ned to me, looking us both straight in the eye. Her expression was intense and, honestly, a little scary. “That doesn’t change the fact that Fallon took my crown! I earned that crown fair and square, because Fallon did something against the rules! I was doing her a favor by not telling the officials! I told you that!”

I nodded. “I know that, Portia, but —”

“I might have to leave school!” Portia continued. “Or work, like, three jobs at a time! Not to mention the cash I lost, or the car, or the chance to be the face of Pretty Face Cosmetics! Do you have any idea what that position can lead to? Do you know how many starlets or models got their start as Miss Pretty Face?”

I started to shake my head. Just then, a familiar figure swooped in to clear Por- tia’s untouched food. Robin Depken’s concerned expression as she turned to Por- tia told me that she had overheard the tail end of her rant.

“Listen to me,” she said, looking Portia in the eye. “Whoever did that to you did you a favor. You don’t want to work for those people. Trust me. I would never use their cosmetics on my face again.”

Portia listened for a second, but then her face twisted into a sneer. “Spoken like a true has-been,” she growled. “How would you know, Robin? You weren’t good enough to get anywhere near the crown.”

Ned poked my arm and widened his eyes, no doubt thinking, as I was, that this was going to turn even nastier very soon. But Robin just stared at Portia, her concerned expression never changing. “Whatever,” she murmured, walking off with Portia’s tray.

Portia turned back to me. Some of her anger seemed to have faded, and there were tears in her eyes. “I just can’t believe what Fallon took from me,” she said quietly. “What can I do to her? How can I —”

“If you’re talking about revenge, I don’t think it’ll be necessary,” I interrupted. “I have to tell the pageant officials everything I’ve learned. And once they learn that Fallon not only had plastic surgery but set you up to be dethroned, she’s going to be in a ton of trouble.”

Portia nodded, getting a gleam in her eyes. “And then they’ll give me the crown back.”

Ned looked alarmed. “Um,” he spoke up. “They may not look kindly on you blackmailing a fellow contestant.”

But Portia waved his concern away. “It’s so minor, compared to what she did.” She looked at both of us. “You guys don’t see it because you’re goody-goodies. You probably hear the word blackmail and break out in hives. But the pageant officials will see I just made an agreement with her. Besides, all’s fair in love and pageants.”

I looked at Ned and shook my head. “So I’m learning.”

CONFRONTATIONS

The next day was the Miss Pretty Face pageant. But I no longer viewed it as anything to look forward to. For one, I was exhausted. After dinner, I’d made what was supposed to be a “quick” stop by Fleur to speak with Candy Hokanson. Luckily, she’d been there — and hesitantly, uncomfortably, and only after I’d laid out everything I already knew, she’d confirmed my suspicions about Fallon.

“Fallon is my niece,” Candy had told me, staring at the floor. “She wanted that crown so badly. I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted — she said Portia was a terrible person, and I’d be doing the pageant a favor.”

I sighed. As relieved as I was to finally have everything figured out, I was disappointed, too — in Portia, in Fallon, and in the adults who had gone against what they knew was right for silly, petty reasons. I couldn’t help but wonder if all pageants were this scandal-ridden. I knew I’d never be competing in one again.

“Do you have to tell them?” Candy had asked me, looking at me with wide, childlike eyes. Oddly enough, she looked frightened. “Fallon is a good girl. If she says Portia had it coming, then she had it coming. Fallon’s never lied to me.”

I shook my head. “I have to tell them.”

“But what good would it do?” Candy pressed. “You said Portia blackmailed Fallon. Both she and Fallon are at fault, and Portia can’t get the crown back now.” She looked me in the eye. “Just let it go,” she coaxed. “Everyone will be better off.”

I just looked at her, regretfully. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

Candy just pursed her lips and walked away. “We’re closed,” she’d told me bluntly, pointing me to the door.

This morning, Portia had agreed to meet me at nine thirty a.m. in front of the auditorium. Pageant contestants wouldn’t arrive until ten, but that gave us plenty of time to explain the situation to the judges. As usual, Portia looked flawless: perfectly styled hair, perfectly applied makeup, and wearing glossy-magazine-style clothes.

“I can’t wait to go in there,” she greeted me as I climbed out of my SUV. “I’ve been waiting months for this: my big chance to show them I never stole anything.”

Remembering what Kelly and Candy had told me, I couldn’t help wondering what Portia had done. She hadn’t stolen anything, but she had been rude (at least according to Kyle), irresponsible, and selfish during her reign, even though she’d won “fair and square,” as she put it. It made me wonder: What do beauty contests measure, if people like Kelly are passed over so people like Portia can win?

Cupcake was already in the auditorium, supervising the stagehands as they arranged the platforms and lights. “Over to the left!” she was yelling as Portia and I entered at the rear. “Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you people? Don’t apologize! Just do it right!” She turned, her jaw dropping as she saw Portia and I heading down the aisle toward her. “What the…?”

“Cupcake, I have something to confess to you,” I said quickly. “I am not just a hopelessly uncoordinated, style-deprived pageant contestant from River Heights.” I paused. “Well, I guess I am — style-deprived and uncoordinated, I mean. But I’m also an amateur detective.” I gestured to Portia. “And I’ve been competing in this pageant as part of my investigation for Portia.”

Cupcake stared at Portia in awe. “Portia Leoni,” she said in a low voice. “You have some nerve, walking in here, tainting the set of the pageant you made into a local joke!”

“Careful what you say to me, Cupcake,” Portia replied with a cold smile. “You don’t want to have to spend all day apologizing.”

Cupcake gasped. “Well, I never!”

“Listen,” I said, trying to prevent this from becoming a scene. “I have some information that the pageant officials need to hear. Can you arrange a meeting?”

Cupcake frowned, looking from me to Portia — probably her two least favorite people associated with the Miss Pretty Face pageant. She looked like she didn’t want to believe us-but she did. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll collect the pageant officials. You wait here.”

Cupcake walked up onto the stage and into the backstage area, pausing to glare back at us every few seconds.

“Wow,” Portia said with a chuckle, once Cup-cake was out of hearing range. “She really hates me.”

“Well, you brought scandal to what I think is the most important event in her life,” I replied.

Portia just shook her head. “She doesn’t seem to like you much either.”

“I thought I’d been impressing her lately.” I sighed. “But by showing up with you? I think I just lost my shot at Miss Congeniality.”

A few minutes later Portia and I sat in a room with Cupcake, Kyle McMahon, and a few other local bigwigs from Pretty Face Cosmetics I hadn’t met before: an older man named Henry Schafer, who introduced himself as a regional sales manager, and a middle-aged woman named Lucille Gomez, who was the company’s PR representative.

All of these people eyed Portia and me suspiciously. I was beginning to sense that it wasn’t just Cupcake who didn’t like me.

“I do wish, Nancy,” Kyle began, “that if you’d had information about Portia’s shoplifting charge, you would have told us earlier. We don’t appreciate being ambushed on the day of our next pageant.”

“I’m not trying to ambush you,” I replied honestly. “The truth is, the information I have about Portia’s dethroning relates to this year’s competition.”

“And why is that?” Lucille asked skeptically.

“Because it involves one of this year’s competitors,” I replied.

I told them what I’d learned about Fallon Gregory and how that had led me to investigate her leaving the competition.

“And you admit that you blackmailed Fallon last year?” Cupcake demanded of Portia, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

Portia nodded. “As I’ve explained to Nancy,” she replied, “I don’t see it as a problem. I could have turned her in and then she would have been out of the competition for life. Wasn’t it nicer of me to let her compete this year?”

Kyle shook his head and sighed. “I can’t believe this,” he murmured. “Fallon is my niece, and she didn’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Portia nodded. “She didn’t realize that plastic surgery wasn’t allowed,” she went on confidently. “She had kept the nose job super-secret, so only her parents knew. When I told her the situation, she actually seemed grateful. You know, that I would warn her, and not turn her in to you officials.” She paused, her brows furrowing. “But then with Nancy’s help, I found out the truth! Fallon was the one who broke the rules, but she wanted revenge on me!”