“Who is it?” Karen asked. “Savannah and Evie?”
“Of course.” Rachel’s round face clouded. “I knew there’d be trouble the minute I saw Savannah walk through that door. You never should have let her register, Abby. She’s going to ruin everything.”
She might be right, but how could I have known? Most people don’t drag childhood rivalries with them into middle age. At least, I don’t think they do. Savannah and Evie had been opponents in almost everything since junior high, maybe even earlier than that. I distinctly remember them going nose-to-nose over which one got to do their seventh-grade research paper on France, and who could ever forget the war over first violin position in eighth-grade orchestra? Apparently, their rivalry was still going strong and Divinity was about to become just another in a long line of battlegrounds.
Determined to regain control, I pasted on a smile and crossed the room toward the rabble-rousers. Savannah is tall, full-bosomed, and curvaceous in a way that appeals to men. She’s probably a few pounds heavier than she was back in high school, but the extra inches haven’t dulled her appeal. She still wears her dark hair long and loose, and her blouses low and tight. Even in the middle of January, she was showing an ample amount of cleavage. You had only to look at the sparkle in the eyes of the men around her to know that she hadn’t lost her touch.
I didn’t want to admit it aloud, but I’ve always considered Savannah more trouble than she’s worth. The fact that she’d driven all the way from Gunnison to compete for a prize she couldn’t possibly want was typical of her. I didn’t blame Evie for challenging her. I just wished that she’d found somewhere else to do it.
Evie stood in front of the judge’s table, red-faced, breathing heavily, and waving a pink scoring sheet under the judges’ noses. She stands barely five feet tall, her blond hair hasn’t begun to show even a hint of gray, and she’s maintained her teenage cheerleader figure by religious use of a membership at the Paradise Health Club, but she’s always been a more wholesome type than Savannah. Evie’s the kind of girl boys took home to meet their mothers. Savannah’s the kind they hid in the back seats of their cars.
“Something has to be done about this,” Evie pronounced when she saw me. “It’s a travesty.”
“You’re making a fool out of yourself,” Savannah grumbled. “Why can’t you just accept the fact that the judges prefer my entry to yours?”
All three judges sat stone still behind the judging table. Beverly Lembeck, the judge whose round face was currently being threatened by the scorecard, rose to her feet when she realized that help had arrived—a move that finally put her out of Evie’s reach. Under the watchful gaze of his wife, Henry Stokes tried not to even look at Savannah while Marshall Ames, the third judge, couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“I certainly hope you don’t condone this kind of behavior from your contestants,” Beverly said. “All decisions of the judges are supposed to be final.”
“And they are,” I assured her. I ignored the I-told-you-so look on Karen’s face and put a little more warmth into my smile. “What seems to be the problem, Evie?”
Whipping around so fast I worried she might fall off the soles of her platform sandals, Evie shoved the score sheet in front of my face—too close to let my almost forty-year-old eyes focus. “Have you seen this?”
“No, and I can’t see it now, either.” I tried without success to nudge her hand away. “I take it you have a complaint?”
“She wants to know if you’ll rearrange the scores from tonight’s competition to suit her,” Savannah said. “Apparently, she’s having trouble believing that I scored higher than she did.”
Years of pent-up fury flashed in Evie’s violet eyes. “Only because
you
forgot the requirement to use an original recipe.” She turned back to me impatiently. “She downloaded her recipe from the Good Cooks Network website, Abby. She should be disqualified. And this isn’t the first time she’s done something like this, either.”
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Savannah warned. “An accusation like that could get you in trouble.”
Evie squared her shoulders and straightened to her full height, which put her roughly even with Savannah’s chest. “I’m not worried. It will be easy enough to prove. I warned you that your nasty little habits would come back to bite you one of these days.”
I could feel the crowd closing in around us, angling to get a better view of the altercation. So much for holding a dignified, professional contest. If I didn’t do something fast, the whole weekend would be in danger.
Trying to look bored, Savannah flicked a wrist, but I don’t think anybody missed the sudden flush of color that suffused her cheeks. “You’re accusing me of cheating?”
“I’m saying straight out that you’ve cheated—again. But this is the last time, Savannah. I swear to God, this time I’m going to stop you.” Evie wheeled back toward me and shoved the score sheet under my nose again. “Do something, Abby. I’m counting on you to make this right.”
I backed a step away, wanting to put some distance between myself and her anger and hoping to prevent anyone else from thinking that I was taking sides. “Evie,” I said quietly, “I don’t—”
“You don’t what? Don’t believe me?”
“I didn’t say that, I just think it might be best to discuss this somewhere else.” I glanced over my shoulder at the rapidly gathering crowd. “Privately?”
“Why? Everyone here knows what Savannah’s like. If she’s not sleeping with somebody’s boyfriend or husband, she’s finding some other way to take what’s yours. There’s probably not a soul in this room she hasn’t hurt.”
“Why don’t we try to stay focused on tonight’s contest,” I said, still struggling to remain neutral.
Tall, blond, and surprisingly handsome considering what a nerd he’d been in high school, Marshall Ames pushed away from the judge’s table and came to stand beside Savannah. “Don’t you think you’re being unnecessarily harsh, Evie?”
Funny. I didn’t remember him being a friend of Savannah’s back in high school. Maybe she’d been more interested in the chess club than any of us realized.
Evie leveled Marshall with a look of disdain. “Why don’t you let her fight her own battles, Marshall? I told you, I can prove what I’m saying.”
“Prove that I cheated?” Savannah said with a laugh. “Impossible.
If
there’s a recipe for Kentucky Colonels on some website, I certainly didn’t copy it. This recipe has been in my family for generations.”
I doubted that, but maybe that’s just because Savannah had never seemed all that interested in her family. Though she claimed to be in town to visit her older sister, I had it on good authority that she’d barely spoken to Delta in years. According to Karen, she hadn’t even come home for her mother’s funeral the previous spring. Then again, maybe she
had
had a sudden spurt of familial feeling. Bourbon-filled chocolates have that effect on some people. Who was I to say?
The nervous ball of energy in my stomach grew stronger and I tried again to take the argument away from the public eye. “Why don’t both of you come downstairs with me so we can get to the bottom of this in private?”
Savannah blurted a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Abby. There’s nothing to get to the bottom of. Tonight’s scores were fair, and I, for one, refuse to give in to Evie’s raging paranoia.” She straightened majestically and cast a royal glance around the crowd. “One of you take the poor thing out for a drink and make it all better. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
She turned away, hitching her purse strap onto her shoulder and dismissing Evie’s protests at the same time.
Maybe I should have stopped her, but I just wanted the argument to be over. At least this gave me a chance to look into Evie’s allegations without the whole world looking over my shoulder. If I was lucky, I could clear the whole mess up before tomorrow night’s segment of the competition.
I should have known better. Just take a look at the way my life’s been going lately and you’ll realize that luck and I aren’t on speaking terms. I couldn’t know it as I watched Savannah disappear from view, but things were about to get a whole lot worse.