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The Notorious Noel Caper (Sandy Fairfax Teen Idol Mysteries) by Sally Carpenter
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About The Notorious Noel Caper
It’s Christmastime in Tinsel Town, and there’s plenty of ho-ho-homicide at the soon-to-open Santa’s Magic theme park, where bodies are dropping like snowflakes. Former pop star Sandy Fairfax has a killer job—he’s the emcee for the televised Miss North Pole beauty contest--er, scholarship pageant. But will the beautiful contestants make his girlfriend jealous? Or will she join him in his sleuthing? The deadly Christmas season begins at a celebrity bowling tournament when a pinsetter plops down a body instead of the pins. Throw in surfing Santas, a seductive executive's wife, a sleazy tabloid editor, an egotistical movie rival and a gift-wrapped death trap, and it’s the most wonderful time of the year.
EXCERPT:
(Sandy is on stage, rehearsing with the pageant contestants)
I glanced at the cue cards. The writers had no doubt penned my quips while drinking in a West Hollywood bar. My next line made me choke, but I obediently read it with as much passion as I could muster. “Well, Summer, sounds as if you’ll be busy buying quite a few presents this year for all of your folks. And when you’re not cracking the books at the university, what hobbies do you enjoy?”
Her lovely blue eyes gazed out past the camera and onto the cue cards that were flipped as she talked. “I have many interests, Sandy. I love taking long walks on the beach and collecting jazz albums and trying out new recipes and—”
We never heard about her other hobbies. Summer abruptly froze and gasped, as if choking. She threw her head and shoulders back. Her mouth hung open. Her eyes dilated. She pitched forward. I grabbed Summer just before she hit the floor. I knelt, put my mic on the stage, and set the girl down on her back. Her arms and legs were limp.
I was in shock. “Somebody call a doctor!”
“What’s going on down there?” Guy was in the control booth. His voice boomed—in stereo—over the loudspeakers along the wall.
I pressed my fingers against Summer’s neck. “I don’t feel a pulse!”
“Sandy, what are you doing? Tell Summer to stand up.”
Of course, Guy couldn’t hear me from inside the booth. I picked up my microphone and shouted into it. “Summer needs a doctor, now!”
Guy muttered some raw language and then declared that he was leaving his heavenly throne to join the peons on the floor. What he actually said was, “I’m coming down.”
“Call an ambulance before you do!” I added, before I put the mic on the floor.
But the poor girl was beyond hope. Summer’s head was twisted to one side. I reached behind her neck to move her head into a more dignified position. I felt a bump on her skin. I rotated her head to investigate.
A tiny red welt stood out against her light skin.
The other contestant started to rushed onto the stage. I ordered them to stay back. The sight of a dead body might start a panic and raise some awkward questions that I couldn’t answer.
“What happened?” “Is she sick?” “Did she faint?” The girls kept their distance, but peppered me with questions.
I lied. “She . . . she passed out.”
Captain Lyons stormed in from the wings and stood over me. “Mr. Gower radioed me. I rushed right over. Is there a problem?”
“I would say so.” I kept my voice low so the contestants wouldn’t hear me. “Summer Attenbergis dead.”
“You’re qualified to make a medical diagnosis?”
“Does she look alive to you?”
Lyons dropped to one knee and examined the body. “What did you say her name was?”
“Summer Attenberg. She is—was—one of the Miss North Pole contestants. That’s all I know about her.”
Lyons eyed me. “Didn’t I see you on Sunday at the bowling alley when the actor died?”
“Well, yes, but that was just a coincidence.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Seems odd that whenever you show up on the lot, something suspicious happens. Stand up.” As there was nothing more either of us could do to help Summer, we both got on our feet. “Tell me what happened.”
“The two of us were standing here talking, and she collapsed.”
“Did you strike her?”
“No! I never touched her. And there’s an odd red lump on her neck.”
“What do you mean?”
“Take a look.”
Lyons squatted again, ran her fingers along the body’s neck and stood. “It looks like a pimple.”
“Excuse me, captain, but girls in beauty contests do not have zits.”
“It could be an insect bite or an allergic reaction to something she ate.”
“Then how do you explain a perfectly healthy young girl dying in ten seconds?”
“Perhaps she had an undisclosed medical condition that might have disqualify her from the pageant. As for you,Mr. Fairfax, I’m still waiting to hear how you managed to show up alongside a second body in less than a week.”
“I broke a mirror and got seven years of bad luck.”
Guy had finally descended from the heavens to join us. “Glen says the police and paramedics are on their way.” Hetook a long look at the body, then stared at the contestants huddled at the far side of the stage. Guy finally got his brain working and dismissed us for the rest of the day, butsaid we should return tomorrow at our regular call time.
“Aren’t you canceling the pageant?” I asked. Not only would that be the proper thing to do out of respect for the deceased, butwould also get me away from the looney director.
“No reason why we should,” said Guy. “We can’t stop production just because one contestant has a health condition.”
“This young lady has a death condition!” I said.
Lyons spotted the cameras, then turned to the director. “I need to see the footage of the girl falling down.”
“Sorry, captain,” said Guy. “This is just a rehearsal.We’re not recording.”
Lyons eyed me. “So, we only have your word on what happened.”
This seemed like a good time to involve my Fifth Amendment right to remain silent, so I said nothing.
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About Sally Carpenter
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