“You just made it.” The woman stuck a tag printed with the number eleven on Nealy’s shirt. “You’re our last entry. Who is it you think you look like?”

Dumbfounded, Nealy stared at her. “What . . .”

“She looks like Cornelia Case!” Lucy exclaimed. “Anybody can see that.”

Only then did Nealy spot the banner hanging above the platform.

CELEBRITY LOOKALIKE CONTEST!

Chapter 10

10

NEALY FELT ALL the blood draining from her head. “Lucy, I’m not doing this!”

“Too late. It cost me ten bucks. And I want that TV, so you’d better win!”

“We have one more contestant,” the announcer exclaimed. “Step up, Number Eleven! Your name is . . .” He glanced down at the card the woman with the clipboard had handed him. “Brandy Butt?”

“I made that up so your ex-husband couldn’t find you,” Lucy whispered as she pushed Nealy toward the steps.

“Don’t be shy. Come right on up. ”

Everybody in the crowd had turned to stare at her. Her limbs felt numb and her fingers icy. She thought about running, but that would only make her more conspicuous. Her legs were wooden as she found herself mounting the three steps.

Why had she let Mat take away her padding? The others were standing in a ragged line. She took a place at the end and willed herself to become invisible, but the crowd was regarding her curiously. She was going to murder Lucy.

“Brandy, tell us where you’re from?”

Her voice quivered. “¿Qué?”

“Where you’re from? Where you live?”

“No hablo ingleés.”

Lucy shot her a murderous glare.

The announcer gave the woman with the clipboard a helpless look. Lucy called up from the bottom of the steps, “She’s from Hollywood, California. And you can’t kick her out of the contest because I already paid ten dollars!”

“We won’t kick her out, young lady,” the announcer said in the unctuous voice of the microphone-infatuated. He turned back to Nealy. “Who is it you think you look like, Number Eleven?”

“¿Qué?”

“She looks like Cornelia Case!” Lucy exclaimed. “The First Lady!”

“How about it, ladies and gentlemen?”

Gooseflesh broke out all over her as the crowd applauded.

“We’ve got a real contest going here, folks. Who are you going to vote for? Because it’s time to pick our finalists.”

The other ten contestants were a mixed lot: male and female, child, adult, one teenager. None of them resembled any celebrity she knew, certainly not like she did.

The announcer asked everyone to form a line along the front of the platform. Nealy’s feet felt as if they’d been dipped in concrete. He stepped behind the contestants. “Support your favorites with your applause, and don’t forget that this contest is brought to you by the wild and woolly WGRB-FM 1490!”