Sour Grapes

even wider when she saw Savannah standing there.
    “Oh,” she said. “Who... who are you?”
    “My name is Savannah Reid. I’m working Security for the pageant. Just making my rounds. And you are...?“
    “Francie Gorton. I’m one of the contestants.”
    “Nice to meet you, Francie. Is everything all right?” The girl gave a furtive glance at the closed door. “Ah, yeah... I... everything’s fine, I guess.”
    Savannah put on her best soft, big-sister face. “You don’t sound too sure to me.” “ Yes, I’m sure. But I have to get down to dinner now. I’m late.”
    The girl started to pass Savannah in the hallway, but Savannah stepped in front of her, reached out, and laid her hand on her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do? If there’s a problem, maybe I can help.”
    Francie glanced at the door again, and for a second Savannah thought she might be about to open up and confide in her. She obviously needed to; her eyes were full of fear, and she was visibly shaking.
    “No, really. You can’t help. I mean... it’s not my thing.”
    Savannah pointed to the closed door. “Is it her thing? Does your friend need my help?”
    The girl shook her head, and for a moment, sadness replaced the fear in her eyes. “No, Barbie knows everything. If you don’t believe that, just ask her. She never needs anybody’s help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really have to go downstairs.”
    Savannah released her. “Yes, of course you do. If you change your mind, and you want someone to talk to, I’ll be around. Okay?”
    “Yes, thank you very much. You’re nice... for a Security person. No offense.”
    Savannah smiled. “Gee, thanks. I’ll take that as high praise. Have a nice dinner, and good luck with the pageant.”
    As Savannah watched her hurry away, she could hear the low murmur of the other girl’s voice on the opposite side of the door. When she had first heard the voice, she’d thought she recognized it: Barbie Matthews, all right. That level of conceit and cockiness was distinctive, even in an adolescent.
    She couldn’t understand any of the specific words the girl was saying, but she sounded angry, even furious.
    So, what else was new with Barbie Matthews?
    For a moment Savannah considered knocking on the door and questioning the kid. But instinctively she knew that Ms. Barbie would be far less cooperative than her uncooperative girlfriend had been, so it was pointless.
    She walked away, easing the queasy feeling in her stomach by promising herself to keep a close eye on Barbie Matthews for the rest of the pageant.
    The problem was: She just wasn’t sure exactly what to watch for.
    Was she protecting Barbie from someone who might want to hurt her? Or was she protecting someone in particular—or everyone at the pageant—from the temperamental Ms. Matthews?

Chapter

7

    B y the time Savannah returned to the gallery she found it virtually empty, except for a few Villa Rosa staff members who were scurrying through, their arms laden with everything from trays of dishes, to flower arrangements and stacks of linens.
    Even Ryan was gone. She assumed he was patrolling the downstairs hallway of the guesthouse, or checking the grounds.
    Villa Rosa’s visitors had migrated to the tasting room, and Savannah could tell by the clatter of dishes and silverware that dinner was well under way. The smell of food was driving her crazy. Right now she would even settle for one of Dirk’s bargain kids’ burgers and a greasy bag of cold fries.
    When she entered the tasting room, she found a semidark, discreet spot against the wall to the left of the main door, where she stood for over half an hour, keeping an eye on things but maintaining a low profile.
    Other than the fact that she was starving, she had to admit, this was a pretty easy way to make a buck. She’d have to thank Ryan again for recommending her. It had been ages since she’d had a gig this laid-back.
    If she could only get her paws on one of those plates of herb-roasted chicken....

    Barbie Matthews was feeling better than she had for weeks; finally, things were starting to go her way. The plan she had crafted so carefully was beginning to unfold.
    Winning beauty pageants was fine, but Barbie had so much more in mind for her future. After all, what was the point of being beautiful if you didn’t use it fully to your advantage?
    As she hurried through the now-vacant upstairs corridor of the guesthouse, she felt her pulse pounding with