Revenge of the Chili Queens (10 page)

“Is that what she said?” The tiny smile that played around the woman’s very red lips told me that gossip was second nature. “Well, that may very well be true. But only if dogs play the guitar.”

“Aha! I thought so.” I spun away from watching Miss Texas Chili Pepper, who wasn’t doing much of anything interesting, anyway, and looked up at the woman. The way she’d positioned herself under the lights, the rhinestones in that crown of hers winked down at me. “She knew the victim?”

“Let’s see, what did those people on the news say his name was?” Honestly, I don’t think Miss Texas Triangle needed to think about it, but she pretended she did. “Dominic Laurentius. Yes, that’s it. Did she know him? We all knew Dom. He worked for Consolidated Chili.”

“Security, right?”

“That’s what Dominic always said.” She twitched her shoulders. “Personally—and I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, believe me when I tell you this—but personally, I wasn’t sure I could always believe Dominic. Oh, he talked a good game. And if you saw him at all yesterday, you might have noticed he had dreamy eyes.”

And dreamy shoulders, and a luscious mouth, and a strong jaw, and . . .

I batted the thoughts away.

“But you . . .” I looked around, taking in all the beauty queens with one look. “How did you know the victim? You don’t work for Consolidated Chili.”

“Heavens, no!” Like Miss Texas Chili Pepper, she’d perfected the art of hand to cheek and she used it with wild abandon. “That would be a conflict of interest, wouldn’t it? Me, working for the company and vying for the title of Miss Consolidated Chili this coming weekend? I just knew him from events like this. When I appear in public . . . well, I don’t mean to sound too full of myself, but you understand.” She glanced down and gave me the quickest once-over in the history of mankind, her gaze lingering on the wig.

“Well, maybe you don’t,” she conceded. “But ever since the seven of us here were named finalists for the Miss Consolidated Chili crown, we’ve been appearing in
public together. Dominic, he provided security on behalf of the company.”

Like I was actually impressed, I smiled. “And is that how Miss Texas Chili Pepper knew Dominic Laurentius?”

“How she knew that man was in a way that a woman isn’t supposed to know a man. Not until they’re married, anyway. I mean . . .” Eyelashes flapping. “I may be a little old-fashioned, but that is what I believe. It’s how my mother raised me.”

“So Miss Texas Chili Pepper . . .” I paused to let her fill in the blank.

“Tiffany. Tiffany Jo Baxter. And I . . .” She extended a hand. “I’m Bindi Monroe.”

She wouldn’t let me get back to business until I shook, so as soon as that was taken care of, I asked, “So Tiffany and Dominic, they were an item?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

I let my gaze wander over the crowd, but there was no sign of Ms. Baxter. “Well, no wonder she’s so upset.”

When Miss Texas Triangle realized she let out a screech of laughter, she pressed one perfectly manicured hand to her equally perfectly bowed lips and glanced around to make sure she hadn’t made a scene. It was so loud there in the midst of the crowd what with the chatting and the oohing and the barking, she hadn’t, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“She didn’t start that crying just last night when she heard the news,” Miss TT told me. “Tiffany, she’s been crying and moaning for more than a week.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because Dominic, he broke up with her, of course. A little over a week ago. Walked right over to her before the Fall Festival Parade over in Figueroa. Right before we were all set to get on the Texas Beauties float. Imagine, a man being as heartless as that, dumping that sort of news on her when she needed to look her best.”

“Did he say why?”

“Why he broke up with her?” Miss TT needed to consider this. Or at least she needed to pretend like she had to. “Well, it’s not like I was eavesdropping or anything. I mean, a lady wouldn’t do a thing like that, would she?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer, but then, maybe she knew I wasn’t much of a lady. “He said something about moving on. About how it was fun while it lasted, but . . .” She shrugged. “Well, something tells me a woman like you, you’ve heard all the same things yourself a time or two.”

Or three or four or a dozen.

I did not admit this and give Miss TT the satisfaction of pegging me just right. Instead, I stepped a bit nearer to her.

“Was she mad?” I asked her.

“Tiffany?” She wrinkled up her nose. “Well, not at first. But then like I said, Dom, he caught her off guard. But by the next day . . .” Just thinking about it made Miss TT’s dark eyes pop open wide. “I saw Tiffany the next day. You know, on account of how we’re both going to be in the Miss Consolidated Chili pageant this coming weekend at that Chili Showdown over at the fairgrounds. And the winner, the winner is going to be the Consolidated Chili
spokeswoman! I can’t tell you how exciting just the very thought is. I have nothing but admiration for the Consolidated Chili folks.”

“And Tiffany?”

“Tiffany, well, she claims she’s a huge fan of Tri-C chili, but truth be told . . .” She leaned in close to share the secret with me. “Tri-C served us dinner before we got out here tonight, and Tiffany, she passed on the chili. She had a salad instead.”

“I don’t really care what she eats. What about Tiffany and Dom?”

“Oh. Well, next time I saw her, I mean after the day Dominic dropped that news on her like a load of bricks, well, the way she stomped into our first walk-through rehearsal, I thought the heels of her shoes would just poke right through the floor. She was that mad.”

“At Dom?”

“At the world! At cruel, cruel fate. But yeah, mostly at Dom. What that woman said she’d do to him if she ever got her hands on him was positively—”

Just when things were starting to get really interesting, the realization of all she was telling me dawned on Miss Texas Triangle, and she clamped her lips shut.

I smiled to make it look like I didn’t care nearly as much as I did. “Been there,” I assured her, and she didn’t have to know it was true. “And let me tell you, I had plenty of nasty plans for my ex.” Also true. “I’m sure there was a time or two that I said I’d like to kill him. And it’s not like anyone could blame Tiffany, is it? After all, she was dumped. Of course she said she’d like to kill Dominic. Right?”

“I’ve known Tiffany for years and years,” Miss TT told me, and she was sure to add, “You know, she’s older than me. Nearly twenty-five.”

“So you probably know her better than a lot of people do.”

“I do. And I know that no matter what she might have said—”

“So she did say she wanted to kill Dominic.”

“That doesn’t mean she meant it.”

“But she was still mad yesterday. Even though he dumped her over a week ago.”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “Well, I hadn’t seen her in a while. And yesterday when I got here, I asked how she was doing.”

“And she said . . . ?”

Miss TT threw me a quick glance. Maybe she was trying to decide if she could trust me or not. “She said if she bumped into Dom, she was going to grab a knife and push it straight through his stone-cold heart.” She gave a nervous little laugh. “But you understand, she couldn’t have been serious. She was just acting like a crazy lady.”

A crazy lady.

Senora Loca.

Could Tiffany have been the one Dominic was referring to? Was that the reason he’d come frantically looking for Nick?

“Did you see them together after that?” I asked Miss TT.

“They were talking. Once. But it’s not like they were arguing or anything. It was just a chat. Tiffany gave him a sample of our chili.”

“Was it a friendly chat?”

“Tiffany’s face was a little red.”

“And Dominic’s?”

“Well, you didn’t know Dom, did you? The man wasn’t bothered by a thing. I mean, really. To that man, everything was like water rolling off a duck’s back.”

“Including how he made Tiffany feel when he dumped her.”

Her top lip curled. “Just watching from the outside, I could tell he didn’t give a d—” She cleared her throat and looked around to make sure no one had overheard what was apparently a no-no word for beauty queens. “Dom didn’t care. Not one little bit. He broke Tiffany’s heart, and he acted like it didn’t matter. It’s no wonder the poor girl was angry.”

“Angry enough to kill?”

“Tiffany is Miss Texas Chili Pepper. She’d never do a thing like that. Of course . . .” Miss TT’s attention was distracted when Tiffany strolled by about twenty feet from us. She had an odd way of holding herself, her right hand out to offer pens to the people around her, her left arm close to her side. No doubt it was how beauty queens were trained. After all, it took a special girl to hang on to her composure and her bouquet of flowers once that sparkly crown was placed on her head.

“Tiffany’s got a following. In the pageant world, I mean,” Miss TT said, almost to herself. “And that Miss Consolidated Chili pageant is coming up. It’s not that I have one little ounce of doubt that I’m going to win and become the company spokeswoman, but if something happened and she couldn’t be there . . .”

I could just about see the wheels turning inside her head.

“You wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t true, would you?” I asked, because let’s face it, I might want to get to the bottom of our little murder mystery, but having Ms. TT lie and send me heading off down that road would get me nowhere fast.

“I’m Miss Texas Triangle, and after this weekend, I’m going to be Miss Consolidated Chili.” Her shoulders shot back. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from John Wesley Montgomery, it’s that his business is based on quality and integrity. Of course I’d never lie. I haven’t lied. I told you, Tiffany said she’d like to kill Dominic.”

“And do you think she could have done it?”

When Tiffany sashayed by with a string of adoring fans behind her, Miss TT’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh yes,” she said. “I know it for a fact. Tiffany was as mad as a whole box of hornets. She hated Dom Laurentius. Oh yes, she very well could have killed him.”

CHAPTER 7

It should come as no surprise that I am something of a night owl.

I blame this habit on years of growing up with a mother who tended bar in our Wicker Park neighborhood in Chicago and whose hours were erratic at best. Sure, there were babysitters. They all pretty much gave up after staying with me one time, and after enough of them waved the white flag, Mom surrendered, too. She took me to work with her, and I camped out in the bar owner’s office. In theory, I was supposed to be doing my homework and catching up on my sleep. The reality looked something more like me sneaking out of the office to play pinball, hustle the clientele who didn’t think a little girl could play pool (they were oh, so wrong!), and bugging Big Sal, the cook, for burgers and
chicken soup and her chili, too, until I realized my own chili was way better and took over the chili cookin’ duties.

By that time, my own personal time clock was set, and I kept the crazy schedule, feeling more energetic once the sun went down than I ever did when it was shining in my eyes.

Still, nights of working the fund-raisers over at Alamo Plaza and days at the fairground for the Showdown were taking their toll.

The next day when I was dressed as the Chili Chick and supposed to be dancing up a storm in front of the Palace, I was instead leaning against the RV, tuckered out and dying for a nap.

And it was only a little past noon.

I yawned and stretched and reminded myself that it wasn’t fair to leave Sylvia out there handling customers on her own.

That was right before I told myself that it was Wednesday and the Showdown wasn’t anywhere near as busy that day as it would be on the weekend. For all I knew, Sylvia was getting in a little nap herself behind the display she’d created on our front counter, orderly pyramids constructed out of jars of our most popular chili spices. The weekend, that’s when the real crowds would arrive, along with the beauty queens vying for the title of Miss Consolidated Chili.

“Miss Consolidated Chili.” There was no one around to hear me, but I snorted anyway, because it was the right thing to do. “What was Tumbleweed thinking to let them have a contest for a canned chili maker at the Showdown?”

No matter that there was no one around to answer my question; I already knew the answer. Tumbleweed was
thinking about what Tumbleweed was always thinking about—the vendors who traveled the country with the Showdown. He knew that the pageant meant publicity and that publicity meant customers and that customers meant sales. I got it. Really, I did. But I wasn’t about to swallow my pride and cozy up to Tri-C, and there was no way I was going to attend the pageant.

Unless, of course, it was to see Tiffany Jo Baxter, Miss Texas Chili Pepper, led away in handcuffs for the murder of Dominic Laurentius.

Tiffany, see, wasn’t just my best suspect. She was my only suspect.

And it was driving me crazy.

“Too easy,” I grumbled. “Guy dumps girl. Girl kills guy.” As much as I got it (and believe me, after being played for a sucker by Edik back in Chicago, I got it), I just couldn’t wrap my head around the reality. It wasn’t that I didn’t think a beauty queen could be nasty enough to kill; it was just that I wasn’t sure Tiffany was smart enough.