Kill 'Em with Cayenne (36 page)

“ACL?” Reba Mae stirred her drink with a celery stalk. “Sugar, stop speakin' Greek to a l'il ol' country gal.”

“Anterior cruciate ligament,” I elaborated. “It connects the femur to the shinbone.”

“Okay,” she replied good-naturedly, “so I didn't ace anatomy class. Then what happened?”

Now it was my turn to grin. “McBride suggested I take up kickboxing. Said I'd be a natural.”

“I meant what happened after my dream guy, Wally, was carted off? I can't believe what I ever saw in the guy.”

“Where Wally Porter was concerned, Maybelle Humphries was the perfect fall guy. Especially since she couldn't prove her alibi.”

Reba Mae glanced down, shamefaced. “It's my fault her alibi got stolen. I let it slip to Wally that Maybelle had proof she was miles away the night in question.”

“Don't beat yourself up. It all worked out in the end.” I put the plates we'd used in the dishwasher. “McBride says Wally Porter, aka Louie Vino Coccetti, has a record a mile long. And that's only for the crimes where he was caught red-handed. Who knows how many people he whacked?”

Reba Mae ran a finger down the side of her glass, making a path in the condensate. “Sure as shootin' Becca picked the wrong guy to blackmail. What was she thinkin'?”

“She saw dollar signs dance in her head,” I said, wiping down the counter. “Becca was never satisfied living in Brandywine Creek and working a job she hated just to make ends meet. She wanted bigger, better. More.”

“And look where she ended up.” Reba Mae crunched down on a celery stick. “Planted facedown in an azalea bush.”

Trying for a distraction, I looked into the oven at the lasagna that was just starting to bubble. I didn't need a reminder I'd nearly disappeared without a trace. I didn't doubt for a minute that Vino Coccetti could dispose of a body where it would never be found. “Let's change the subject, shall we,” I said.

“Fine by me.” Reba Mae leaned back contentedly and sipped her drink. “Clay mentioned Lindsey's been seein' a lot of Barbie Q's video guy. Isn't he a lot older than she is?”

My kitchen spick-and-span, I draped the dishcloth over the faucet and sat down again. “I caught the two of them together last night—in the beer tent of all places.”

“Lindsey…? Drinkin'…?”

“Nothing more than a soda, but I let Mr. Carter Kincaid know in no uncertain terms that my daughter was only sixteen. He labored under the assumption that she was about to celebrate her nineteenth birthday.”

“More like sixteen goin' on twenty-five,” Reba Mae said. “Glad I had boys. If you ask me, boys are much easier to raise than girls.”

“Lindsey and I had a come-to-Jesus meeting when I got home last night. I found
her
waiting up for
me.
Imagine!” I shook my head at the memory of the indignation on her face. “She didn't like having the shoe on the other foot. When I explained what had happened, she told me I was the one in need of a curfew. She went as far as to accuse me of always being the one in trouble.”

“You gotta admit the girl has a point.”

“Next thing I knew, Lindsey jumped up and hugged me so tight she almost broke a rib. She refused to go to bed until I promised I'd take a self-defense class.”

“If you sign up, I will, too.”

I absently tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “Lindsey admitted Carter was too old for her. She realized that when she mentioned a rock group and he admitted he'd never heard of it. However, because of his influence, she's now talking about going to film school. She has her sights set on being an editor or producer.”

“I thought she wanted to be a vet like Doug.”

I sighed. “That was last month.”

“By the way, Dr. Doug's one terrific dancer. Who knew? That man's got moves. Did I show you the trophy we won for shag dancing?”

“If you mean the trophy that's prominently displayed on my kitchen counter, then, yes, you did. I think Doug's even prouder—if possible—of winning a dance contest than having placed with his barbecue. From the little I was able to watch, I was duly impressed with his fancy footwork.”

Restless, I jumped up and opened the cupboard over the sink. “Do you suppose bringing McBride chocolate-chip cookies along with the casseroles would be overkill?”

“Nah.” Reba Mae wagged her head. “Man can't live by casseroles alone.”

*   *   *

It was late afternoon when I traveled down the winding gravel drive leading to McBride's small house. The first thing I noticed was the white Escalade parked beside his Ford F-150. Through the screened door I could make out McBride's tall figure.

And he had a handful.

Barbie Quinlan was wound around him tighter than a kudzu vine. Clinging, climbing, coiling, and noxious. My first impulse was to get the heck out of Dodge, but it was too late thanks to Casey's excited yipping. The couple broke apart as I got out of my car. McBride held the door open, and the two of them stepped out onto the porch. Even wearing a sling, he looked better than an invalid ought to.

Casey scampered out, eager for a tummy rub from his favorite lawman. I followed more sedately, lugging a wicker hamper.

“Look, Wyatt. Isn't that sweet,” Barbie cooed. “Looks like Little Miss Homemaker is bringing you a basket of goodies to make you all better.”

“Hello, Barbie.” I tried not to let my irritation show.

Barbie, I noticed, didn't bother to entice a man with baked goods. She opted for the more direct approach with formfitting white jeans and semi-sheer aquamarine blouse opened to reveal the lacey cups of her bra. Under Barbie's watch, Victoria's secret had just gone viral.

McBride took the basket from me. “That looks heavy. Let me take it inside.”

“Hope I didn't interrupt anything important,” I said, not the least bit apologetic.

“You didn't.” Barbie gave her platinum hair a toss. “Wyatt and I were just saying good-bye. I'm taking off for Memphis. Their festival should make for a great episode. It's ten times the size of Brandywine Creek's.”

“Well, good luck.”
And good riddance,
I wanted to add, but didn't. I was a better person than that.

Barbie started down the porch steps, then turned back. “Sorry if I came across as … abrasive. I'm never at my best around other women—especially those who pose a threat of any sort.”

Not knowing what to say in response to Barbie's admission, I mustered a smile. “Drive safe.”

McBride returned just then and we stood side by side on the porch while Barbie climbed into her SUV, executed a perfect three-point turn, and disappeared from sight.

“Barbie's had a tough time.” McBride slipped the hand of his uninjured arm into the pocket of his jeans. “Makes me feel good to see the success she's making of her life.”

Mimicking his actions, I stuck my hands into the pockets of my denim skirt. “I don't think she likes me very much.”

“Barbie…?” He lifted a brow. “It's not you she dislikes; it's CJ.”

“CJ?”

McBride rocked back on his heels, his expression pensive. I noted his jaw was covered with bearded stubble, but his lack of a shave only added to his rugged appeal. “CJ played a mean trick on Barbie back in high school,” he said. “The kind a girl—especially one who has a mad crush on a guy—doesn't forget. Or forgive. She's still harboring a grudge and it might've rubbed off on you.”

I stared at him, perplexed,. “On me, why?”

“Call it guilt by association. As a prank, your ex asked Barbie to the prom, then stood her up. Made her a laughingstock. According to my sister, Barbie used every penny she'd saved from babysitting to have her hair done and buy a dress. Seems like half the school was in on the joke.”

I was shocked by CJ's callous behavior. Granted, he'd been young at the time, but old enough to know the difference between right and wrong. “That's more than just plain mean; that's downright cruel.”

“Yes,” McBride agreed, “but not as cruel as the rumor someone started about a possible pregnancy.”

“Becca Dapkins.” The name seemed to float on the breeze rifling the leaves of the sweet gums.

McBride nodded. “Barbie suspected Becca but couldn't prove it.”

“Melly informed me Becca wanted Arthur Dapkins for herself. She wasn't about to let a certain well-endowed student railroad her plans. Because of Becca, Barbie packed up and left Brandywine Creek for good.”

“Small wonder you thought Barbie clobbered her old nemesis with a brisket.”

I watched Casey chase a squirrel up a tree. “It seemed a logical conclusion at the time. What I still don't understand is how Maybelle's alibi happened to show up in Tex's room.”

“Porter's kicking himself for not destroying those receipts when he had the chance. He admitted putting them in Mahoney's room so, if they were ever found, it would point suspicion at Tex. By then, he planned to have disappeared without a trace. Unfortunately for Wally, his plan backfired.”

“What about the break-in at Spice It Up!?”

“Wally wanted it to appear Brandywine Creek was experiencing a rash of burglaries. He thought everyone would assume the person who broke into your shop was the same one who stole Maybelle's wallet, which happened to be his real target.”

I let out a sigh. “So that's how a criminal mind works.”

“Say.” McBride smiled suddenly, showing off that cute dimple of his. “Why don't you come inside and tell me what I'm supposed to do with all the food you brought?”

“Deal,” I said.

McBride held the door open, then followed me inside and looked on while I unpacked the casseroles along with an assortment of small glass jars.

“What's all that?” he asked, frowning.

“Since you favor the basics when it comes to seasonings, I brought you salt and pepper.” I held up a jar for his inspection, set it down, and picked up another. “A blend of black Tellicherry and white Sarawak peppercorns. And salt. Sea salt, kosher salt, garlic salt, and onion salt.”

He pointed to a bottle filled with a reddish-orange substance. “That doesn't look like salt or pepper.”

“Chili powder,” I explained. “In case you ever decide to try your hand at cooking, chili is a good place to start.”

He flashed a wicked grin. “Never know when I might want to spice things up.”

Spice things up?
I nearly dropped the pan of lasagna at hearing that. Surely by spicing things up he referred to cooking with items I sold in my shop. Things like cumin, cinnamon, and paprika.

Or did he? Oh, dear …

 

G
UIDE TO
P
EPPERS

Hot, hotter, hottest. Not only are chili peppers hot, but many of them also are similar in appearance. One thing they do have in common, however, is that they all contain capsicum, the compound responsible for the sensation of heat on the tongue. Wilbur Scoville was the first to quantitate the amount of heat in chili peppers in the early 1900s, and his method is still used today. His scale starts at 0 for green peppers (no heat) and goes to the high end of 250,000 units for chilies like the habanero.

P
IPER'S
H
OT
T
EN

Ancho:
Deep red-brown, wrinkled, fruity, and sweet, the ancho is a dried poblano. It is Mexico's most popular pepper and is used in many of their favorite dishes.

Arbol:
Bright red even when dried, the árbol is slender, curved and pointed and packs a punch in the heat department when added to barbecue sauce or chili.

Cayenne:
The cayenne remains green on the plant but once picked may turn red. In its powdered form, it is known as “red pepper.” They are used for heat rather than flavor.

Chipotle:
Tan to coffee-colored, wrinkled, and leathery, chipotles have a sweet, smoky flavor with a chocolaty smell. Chipotles are often used to flavor soups and stews.

Guajillo:
Maroonish-brown, long, and slender, this pepper possesses a smooth, tough skin. It is perfect for chili and chili-based dishes.

Habanero:
The brilliant orange color is nature's way of saying,
Handle with care.
Rubber gloves are recommended when handling this hottie. Remember the adage “less is more” and use only the outer flesh and not the seeds or membranes.

Jalapeno:
These bright-green torpedo-shaped peppers have a light flavor and are medium hot. Fresh, canned, or pickled, they are a widely used table condiment.

Piquin:
These little red peppers are petite but potent. They are used in Mexican moles and sauces, stewed meats, and barbecue sauce.

Poblano:
Poblanos ripen to a dark green and are triangular in shape. Their rich flavor pairs well with corn and tomatoes.

Tabasco:
Tabasco chilies ripen from yellow to red and have a sharp, biting taste with a hint of celery. They are used to make Tabasco sauce.

 

D
R.
D
OUG'S
B
UTT
R
UB

½ cup paprika

½ cup fresh ground pepper

¼ cup kosher salt

¼ cup turbinado sugar

2 tablespoons chili powder

2 tablespoons garlic powder

2 tablespoons onion powder

2 teaspoons cayenne

1 teaspoon dry mustard

Mix spices thoroughly before rubbing on meat. Can be stored covered in a cool, dark pantry.

 

B
UBBA
B
LESSING'S
BBQ S
AUCE

2 cups ketchup