Bone Appétit by Carolyn Haines Page A

of the girls came out on stage in a lineup that made me realize that each one deserved to win.
    “What did you think?” I asked Tammy. I meant it as casual conversation.
    “I think there’s bad energy in the group. I smell tragedy in the air. Someone is about to get hurt.”
    While Tammy had the gift of second sight, she wasn’t in the habit of predicting doom and gloom, at least not for people other than me. Her words stopped me short. “What did you see?”
    Tammy stood up. She moved slowly, her attention focused on the stage.
    “Tammy?” I tried to grab her hand, but she shook free. “Everyone! Get out!”
    For a moment no one paid her any attention. The judges slowly turned to frown at her.
    “Hush up,” Harley Pitts hissed.
    Tammy ignored him. She eased past my knees and stepped into the aisle. “Get those girls off the stage!”
    I scrabbled out after her. “Hey,” I said, grabbing her elbow. “What is it?”
    “We have to get out.” She started toward the exit, visibly upset. Halfway down the aisle she paused, obviously torn between leaving the auditorium and breaking up the last of the pageant. “Get off that stage!” She tried one more time.
    Two big men with scowls headed our way.
    “Tammy, what is it?” I asked.
    “I have to get out of here. Stay away from those girls, Sarah Booth. You and Tinkie both.” She pointed up at the stage. All of the contestants—except Brook Oniada—were staring at Madame Tomeeka as if she’d cursed in church.
    Something else was going on with Brook. She faltered, slowly spinning in a circle as if she’d lost her vision. She staggered, almost dropping to her knees, but she caught herself. The fire batons sputtered as her arms jerked. There was nothing I could do to help Brook. I had my hands full with Tammy.
    “Sit back down,” I whispered harshly to her.
    “Get me outside. Stay away from them.” Tammy was terrified, and her fingers dug into my arm.
    “Other than Tinkie taking photographs, we don’t have anything to do with them.” I stepped in front of her and the approaching bouncers, effectively blocking the bum’s rush she was about to get. “What did you see?”
    “I saw flames—”
    Screams erupted from the stage. Brook Oniada was on fire. The flame from her batons had ignited her clothes and hair, and she was a human torch. Instead of screaming and running, though, she stood perfectly still. She raised one hand and pointed at Hedy. “Help me.”
    Pageant contestants fled the stage, pushing, shoving, and stumbling over one another. Only Hedy remained. She held her violin in one hand and the bow in the other, and shedidn’t move, mesmerized by the sight of her burning competitor.
    At last she dropped the bow and reached out her hand. So help me, it was like a moment from a nightmare. Hedy said something, but in the pandemonium I couldn’t hear.
    Clive Gladstone leaped onto the stage and wrapped his coat around Brook, effectively smothering the flames that had danced along her arms and head. Several men joined him, doing their best to help Brook and drag Hedy off the stage. The audience beat a hasty retreat. Cece and Tinkie were all over it, a journalistic double-team.
    Paramedics and police officers arrived and loaded Brook onto a stretcher. They whisked her away, leaving Mrs. Phelps to urge what remained of the audience to leave the auditorium in an orderly manner. Tammy and I filed out with the noisy crowd that hummed with whispers and sobs. Tammy was shaken, but no more than I.
    We arrived at the Cadillac, and Tammy leaned against it.
    “Tell me exactly what you saw,” I said softly. “You saw the flames before it happened.”
    She didn’t face me, but stared into the dark night. “I saw someone burning. And I heard screaming. I didn’t know who it was, but I knew it involved those girls.” Her breath was ragged as she inhaled. “If I were you, I’d find me another hotel to stay in. There’s someone truly evil around those girls,