Chapter 9 - The Woman Who Repaired The Crown
The message did not mean Celeste had been in the room.
The pageant streamed backstage interviews and stage entrances online.
Parents posted constantly.
One makeup artist had uploaded a short clip before realizing Lily was crying in the background and taking it down.
Celeste could have seen any of it.
Vanessa wanted to call the number immediately.
I said nothing.
She called.
Disconnected.
Not blocked.
Gone.
“She does this.”
Vanessa stared at the screen.
“What?”
“Appears just enough to change the room.”
“You said she called once.”
“She did.”
“That isn't a pattern.”
Vanessa looked toward me.
“You knew her for a summer.”
Right.
I stopped.
The next morning Melissa called.
“We found out who restored the crown.”
I met her in the hotel office.
Vanessa came separately.
The woman was not an investigator.
Not a secret witness.
Her name was Marilyn Porter.
Seventy-one.
Former costume supervisor.
She had worked the pageant sixteen years earlier and still did occasional restoration.
She walked in carrying a tote bag covered with sewing pins and immediately looked at Vanessa.
“Oh, honey.”
Vanessa visibly disliked the word.
“Hi, Marilyn.”
“You look exactly like your mother when you're trying not to cry.”
Vanessa looked away.
Marilyn sat.
We placed the crown on the table.
She inspected the loose lining.
“Well.”
“What?” I asked.
“This stitch is Celeste's.”
Vanessa laughed once.
“You can identify stitching?”
“No.”
Marilyn gave me a look.
“But I can identify thread.”
She touched a faded section.
“This gold upholstery thread came from my emergency kit. Nobody else carried it because it was terrible for costumes.”
I remembered giving Celeste a sewing box.
“Could the ring have been put there later?”
“Certainly.”
“Did you open the lining during restoration?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It was intact.”
“Did anyone ask you to?”
Marilyn looked at Vanessa.
“Grant.”
My pulse changed.
“When?”
“Before I delivered it here.”
Vanessa leaned forward.
“What did he ask?”
“If there was anything sewn inside.”
“Did you check?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the crown belongs to the pageant archive and Grant Carter doesn't.”
I liked Marilyn.
“He was furious?”
“He has been furious at me since 2009. I have adjusted.”
Vanessa almost smiled.
“What happened in 2009?”
“The night Celeste left?”
“Yes.”
Marilyn's face changed.
“You finally call it left.”
Vanessa stiffened.
“What did you call it?”
“Same thing.”
“You knew?”
“I knew she intended to go.”
My stomach tightened.
“How?”
“She asked for my suitcase.”
Vanessa stared.
“What?”
Marilyn nodded.
“A small blue one.”
“When?”
“Afternoon.”
“Before she asked me to go with her.”
“Yes.”
“Why would she need your suitcase?”
“Hers was in Grant's car.”
Of course.
“Did she tell you where?”
“No.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa looked angry.
“You all helped.”
Marilyn did not retreat.
“Several of us knew she was unhappy.”
“You helped her leave without telling me.”
“She said she was telling you herself.”
Vanessa looked away.
That was different.
“What happened later?”
I asked.
Marilyn remembered Celeste coming back to Wardrobe B.
She saw her after I did.
Maybe ten twenty.
“Was she wearing her wedding ring?”
Vanessa's eyes snapped toward her.
Marilyn thought.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I noticed because Celeste always wore it.”
“Did she have the crown?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That she had finally done one thing she should have done years earlier.”
“What?”
Marilyn shrugged.
“She didn't explain.”
Vanessa stared at the ring.
Maybe removing it.
Maybe something else.
“Did Grant see her?” I asked.
Marilyn's face changed.
“Yes.”
Vanessa went still.
“Where?”
“Service corridor.”
“When?”
“After ten thirty.”
That contradicted Grant.
He had told Vanessa he didn't know where Celeste went after hearing she planned to leave.
“What happened?”
“I didn't hear.”
“Did he touch her?”
“No.”
“Argue?”
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
“Quiet.”
Sometimes worse.
Then Marilyn said:
“Celeste left through the loading elevator.”
“With me.”
Marilyn nodded.
“She told me Rachel was driving.”
Vanessa looked at me.
For once, no accusation.
Just pain.
“Did Grant follow?”
I asked.
“No.”
“Why?”
Marilyn hesitated.
“He went back to Vanessa.”
Vanessa frowned.
“I don't remember him coming backstage.”
“You were waiting for results.”
Right.
Marilyn looked at her.
“He stood behind the curtain and watched you receive the scholarship.”
Vanessa's face shifted.
Grant had found his wife.
Argued with her.
Let her leave.
Then gone back to watch his daughter win.
That was not the story either of them had told.
“What happened to the crown afterward?” I asked.
Marilyn looked at Vanessa.
“Grant took it.”
“When?”
“That night.”
“Why?”
“He said Vanessa never wanted to see it again.”
Vanessa stared.
“I never said that.”
Marilyn's expression hardened.
“I know.”
There was the specific choice.
Grant had taken the one object Celeste altered for her daughter.
Not knowing exactly what was inside.
Knowing enough that Celeste had handled it before leaving.
Then made sure Vanessa never received it.
Vanessa stood.
“Where is my father?”
No one knew.
Marilyn said:
“If you're going after Grant, ask him the right question.”
Vanessa looked at her.
“What?”
“Not why he took the crown.”
May you like
Marilyn nodded toward the wedding ring.
“Ask why Celeste let him see her without that on her hand.”
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