Murder, Basted and Barbecued

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Murder, Basted and Barbecued Page 8

by Constance Barker


  The public picnic and camping area was bustling as well, as people came out early to see what was left of the big event.

  Brody turned the site back over to EATS at sunset last night, and the word got out fast. The cooking teams came back, ready for the competition. The one-day event was to feature an appetizer, entrée, and dessert. There would be no meal or course requiring hunting, which is what the Catch It and Cook It smoker competition started out as in the 1960s; there would just be good, old-fashioned smoking and barbecuing.

  The whole team was in the kitchen. The rest of the gang was in the campsite or watching from just outside the kitchen, since only the team was allowed inside the cooking area.

  Smoke had his sleeves rolled up in the brisk morning air, and was busy preparing his appetizer.

  “Are you going with the drunk chicken, Smoke,” I asked him. “It was an award winner for sure.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Everyone seemed to like it. I’m going to tone down the heat in the honey mustard, since Flye is out of the picture. I’ll use sriracha and a touch of habanero peppers instead. Brisket and cabbage will be the main course – one of the judges is Jewish and another has some Irish in her. Brisket smokes up really nice.”

  “Not sure that is going to tone it down, Smoke – habaneros are really hot. But I like the heat. Ruby, what are you baking up?”

  She was already covered with flour from head to toe. “I’m doing a crispy-chewy pretzel stick with rosemary butter to go with the chicken, butter-flake croissants for dinner, and my grandma’s molasses chocolate chip cookies – except they’ll be fluffed up like a muffins. I’m making some maple-praline ice cream to go with it.”

  Who are these people! “I’m very impressed with all of you. I never really knew how talented you were in the culinary arts.”

  “Red and I are doing the most important part, Mercy,” Deloris said.

  “That’s right!” Red agreed. “We’re tasting everything to make sure it's tasty.”

  “We’re the sous chefs. We’re making the sauces, and we’ll be chopping and stirring and timing everything too. It’s easy to forget what you got in the oven when you’re working on something else.”

  Smoke and Ruby nodded in agreement.

  “Well, it sounds like you four have it all handled.” I told them. “You don’t need a manager here.”

  “You’d better go and help Brody solve that murder, Mercy,” Ruby said with raised eyebrows and a serious tone. “He would already have somebody in custody if you didn’t tell him to hold off.”

  I knew she was right about that. Brody was nervous when I left his mobile office this morning, and so was I. “You’re right, Ruby. I’m going to start right next door and find out what Nancy Lu saw when she was on Big Bear Hill.”

  “I’m going with you,” Junior said, walking up with a small, flat cardboard box in a plastic grocery bag.

  “What have you got there, Junior?” I asked him. “Is that a shirt box from the department store?”

  “Nope.”

  “Fancy chocolates, maybe?”

  “Still nope.”

  He held the box by the bottom and pulled the plastic down around it, being careful not to touch the cardboard, and handed it to me. I carefully took the box, touching only the bag, as we walked toward Nancy Lu’s RV next door. It was a luxurious tan box with fancy gold script writing on it and some Chinese characters below that. It had moisture discolorations on it and dirt caked on the corners.

  “Samurai Kitchens,” I read, “Yokohama, Japan.”

  “It’s the box the cleaver came in.”

  “Are you sure? How do you know?”

  He used a handkerchief to lift the cover off the box, and the gray foam insert had a cleaver-shaped cut-out that looked just like the golden cleaver.

  “Where did you find this, Junior?”

  He pointed past the EATS-TV mobile studio across the circle of kitchens. “Up the ATV trail there. It was past the finish line, halfway to Big Bear Hill, in a trash can by a park bench.”

  I tried to think of how this box could be important to the investigation, but nothing came to mind. “Why did you take it, Junior? It’s just an empty box.”

  “Well. It looked like the cleaver had been buried in the box, so it was still brand new when Chef Gourdaine dug it up. You can see where those circles of tape that kept the lid closed were torn to open it.”

  That could be important. “So,” I conjectured, “if Gourdaine’s prints are on the tape, then he was the first one to hold the cleaver...”

  Junior picked up my thought. “...so, whoever buried it never touched the cleaver...”

  “...and the other prints on it could belong to the killer! Junior, you’re a genius!”

  He chuckled. “Well, that’s the first time I’ve been called a genius, Mercy. I’d settle for being told that I’m no dummy.”

  This wasn’t the first time that Junior had surprised me with his deductive powers, but each time was a surprise. I knew he was really a good handyman, plumber, electrician, and builder, so it shouldn’t surprise me that he was smart about other things too.

  “Junior, take this over to Brody’s little office and tell him our theory about the killer’s fingerprints being on the cleaver.”

  “You mean my theory, Mercy?”

  He was right. “You’re right, Junior – tell him about your theory. I see Nancy Lu and Randy by their RV. I’m going to talk to her for a minute.”

  The poor old woman looked a little tired when I walked into her campsite.

  “How’s my patient doing, Nancy Lu? Are you feeling okay today?”

  “Hi, Mercy,” Randy said. “Auntie’s doing pretty well. Just a little sore today from the spill she took.”

  “I can talk for my own self, Randy. Mercy, you come here and sit down. Randy will get you a glass of iced tea.”

  “I don’t need any tea,” I said, as I sat in a lawn chair near her wheelchair. “I just wanted to chat for a few minutes.”

  “Well, I’m going to get back to my cooking then, ladies,” he said with a smile and a tip of his cowboy hat.

  “What’s there to chat about?” Nancy Lu winced as she tried to raise her glass to her lips. “Randy won’t even let me do any baking for him...like I’m some kind of pathetic cripple or something.”

  “He just wants you to get your strength back before you work too hard. So, I was wondering, Nancy Lu...what happened out in the woods after Jackson put you down by that tree?”

  “Ain’t nothin’ happened, Mercy. I already told the deputies – I have a good day every once in a while with my MS. I stood up and felt like walking back to my ATV. Then I didn’t feel strong enough to go back down where he left me, so I drove back here.”

  “And then you got right onto your wheelchair and fell into the hole?”

  “That’s about it. Thought I’d look for some berries to top off the dessert I was making, but I guess the only place they grow here is over by the big hill.”

  I nodded. “I wonder why Deloris and I didn’t see you when we went down to see Jackson, where he was looking for you.”

  “Beats me. I guess I walked a different way.”

  “You didn’t hear us calling you?”

  “Nope. I’m old...don’t hear so good.”

  I guess that made sense. “So, did you see who was driving the yellow ATV? And Was Flye there yet when you left?”

  “I didn’t see no yellow ATV, Mercy. My pink machine was the only one on the hill when I left there. Now, I gotta go and tell Jackson how to make my pineapple upside down cake.”

  She pushed a black lever forward on the arm of her wheelchair, and rolled quickly away.

  I was more confused than ever as I walked into the middle of the arena and headed for Brody’s office. I knew that my blue ATV was still there when Nancy Lu drove away. Maybe she was losing some of her memory, or maybe she was still a little shaken up from her tumble into the ravine.

  Chapter Sixteen

 
; “But you told me to try to prove Gourdaine was innocent, Brody. That’s all I was doing. It wouldn’t be right to pick a suspect and just look for evidence to frame him.”

  I grabbed the vest off the rack in the tiny Sheriff’s trailer and made sure I still had my badge in my back pocket.

  “I know, I know, Mercy.” Brody got up from behind his desk and put on his brown jacket with the Sheriff’s star and opened the door for me. “You’re doing a great job too. That second set of prints on the cleaver just complicates things a little, since the cleaver was untouched before the chef dug it up.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder and kissed me on the forehead, I could see the stress of this investigation in his strained smile.

  I hugged him. “Well, we’d better get to kitchen city. They’re going to start judging the appetizer round any minute.”

  The bright TV lights lit up the whole area in front of the network’s mobile studio set, where the judges were already finished tasting the entries. A producer with a clipboard put her finger to her lips as we approached the seating area, and Ruby waved at us to join the team near the middle of the sea of folding chairs.

  “Smoke got really good comments from two of the judges, Mercy,” she whispered, “and all of them loved my pretzels. But all of the dishes looked really great.”

  The crowd grew quiet, as Chester Monsoon conferred with the judges. Jennifer Gilliam went through all the ballots and handed Monsoon the list.

  “Ladies, and gentlemen,” Monsoon said into the microphone, smiling for the camera and the crowd, “the following ten teams, in random order, will continue on to the entrée round.”

  Everyone already had their entrées cooking, but five teams would be eliminated right now. It seemed like no one was breathing. Ruby put her arm around Smoke and laid her head on his shoulder. The tension was palpable, and Smoke looked white as a sheet. Monsoon called several teams, including Team Sexy Lexi, Team Garaducci from Italy, and Team Gourdaine.

  “Just two teams left to call. It looks like I’m out,” Smoke said with a brave smile and a look of dejection.

  “No, you’re not, Smoke!” Ruby said, rubbing his shoulder firmly. “Your dish got some of the best comments from the judges.”

  “The ninth team to qualify,” Monsoon said, looking at his notes, “is Team Randy Malone, from Dandy Randy’s Pizza & Chow Mein To Go in Baller’s Ferry. Let’s have a big hand for the local fella!”

  I’m not sure which was worse – the sinking feeling we had with only one team left to qualify, or the surprise that Randy made the cut with his Fried Moo Goo Ravioli. No one spoke.

  “And the final qualifier – and my personal favorite of today’s appetizers – from Paint Creek’s Old School Diner is our veteran Chef, Smoke Kowalski and Team Smoke!”

  The cameras panned over to our section. Smoke’s face was bright red as he stood up, and we all took turns hugging him.

  “One special award is presented for the appetizer round for Best Bite. This is in recognition of a delectable taste treat that was unexpected and really showed off the main flavors of the appetizer dish.”

  “Oh!” I said to Ruby. “That’s a nice feature, I didn’t know about that.”

  “Maybe Deloris’s dipping sauces will win.” Ruby had the excitement of a little girl in her eyes, as she patted Deloris’s shoulders in the row in front of us.

  “In third place,” Monsoon announced, “is the blue-cheese pesto dipping sauce from Sous Chef Deloris of Team Smoke!”

  “I knew it!” Ruby cheered, as the crowd applauded.

  “Second place, also from Team Smoke, goes to Chef Smoke’s drunk chicken.”

  Ruby’s chin was practically on her chest. She was literally bouncing with pride and excitement as I tried to hug her.

  “My mother isn’t going to believe this!” Ruby said. “That was my own recipe – not hers or grandma’s.”

  “Oh, she already knows, Ruby. This is live on EATS-TV right now.”

  Ruby’s cell phone apparently vibrated in her hand as she was taking a picture of the stage, and her tears flowed as she talked to her proud mother.

  “And the winner for Best Bite in the appetizer round goes to the goddess homemaker herself, Ms. Margot Steward of Team Gourdaine. Her gingerbread roll-ups with fresh blueberry compote were simply amazing, and the perfect accent to Chef Gourdaine’s wonderful lamb appetizer.”

  Ruby hung up her call as the crowd started to disperse.

  “Margot won first place?” she asked.

  “Yup. Her blueberry gingerbread thingies must have been good.”

  “Well, her gingerbread is the best in the world, I think. But I thought she said she was making it with wild cherry compote. I guess she changed her mind and used blueberries.”

  Brody was just looking at a text on his phone as we started to head back to Team Smoke’s kitchen. “Huh – Sylvia just sent me the lab results on those blue stains on Flye’s shirt. They were from blueberries too. Let’s see what Smoke has to eat over at the kitchen.”

  Halfway back to the kitchen, Talia Jones from the area TV station ran up to us.

  “Sheriff! Can we get you to come over to our little set for an on-camera update on the murder? The people of McLean County really want to know what’s happening now.”

  Brody hated cameras as much as I did. “I’m in a hurry right now, Miss Jones – the medical examiner is waiting for me to call. But my deputy here will be happy to go with you.”

  I gave him a stunned look. Talia Jones looked a little surprised too, but saw that I was wearing an official vest with a deputy patch.

  “Miss Howard, you’re a deputy now?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, Miss Jones,” Brody contradicted. “She’s been fully deputized and is one of my top criminal and medical consultants. We’ll watch you on TV at Smoke’s kitchen, Mercy.” Then he patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

  I was too dumbfounded to be angry at Brody. I guess if I wanted to be a deputy, I had to take the good with the bad.

  Talia shrugged and smiled at me. “Maybe this will be even better,” she said. “You’re on the favorite local team, and you’re a top consultant too.”

  I gave her a cautious smile. But what was I going to tell her. “I don’t know, I’m not really good on TV, Talia. Maybe it would be best if you just waited for the Sheriff to update you later.”

  “Don’t be silly, Miss Howard! You always do a great job on camera, Besides, it’s about time that the people of McLean County see some real girl power at work. You’ve got the brains and beauty to dazzle them.”

  Right.

  “We’ll just stand, with the tree behind us, and I’ll ask you about what new information you might have. That’s all.

  SHE GAVE ME AN EARPIECE so I could hear the producer and the anchor back at the studio too. They had a small TV monitor set up so we could see when we were on camera. Anchorman, Murry Stepple, was on the screen right now. Then the light went on, and we heard the anchor at the station toss it to her.

  “That’s right, Murry. The competition is going strong, and the chefs didn’t seem to lose a beat in the aftermath of the horrible murder of celebrity chef, Billy Flye, on Friday. The entrée round will be judged in five more hours. I have the manager of Team Smoke, owner of the Old School Diner, and, as it turns out, a top deputy for Sheriff Brody Hayes with us...Mercy Howard. Miss Howard, speculation has been running wild that Chef Andy Gourmaine is a suspect in the murder. What can you tell us about that?”

  Oh, wonderful. That’s not what you said you would ask me.

  “Well, Talia, the Sheriff has not officially identified any suspects at this time. Sheriff Hayes is running down several leads, and I’m not at liberty to talk about any individuals who may be getting special scrutiny at this time. When the evidence warrants it, an arrest will be made.”

  “I see. So far, we’ve been told that Chef Flye was hit in the head with a blunt object before he was attacked with the golden cleaver. Wha
t new evidence can you share with us? There should be more lab results by now.”

  Well, Brody asked me to do this. So, I’ll tell them what I know.

  “In addition to the blood, there were some blue stains on Chef Flye’s shirt when the body, um came down the zipline. Those turned out to be just blueberry stains, probably from a dish he was working on for the competition.”

  “Hmm, the chef didn’t mention any blueberries when I interviewed him before the ATV race, and his team was making all of the appetizers so he could drive in the race.”

  “Well, there are blueberries all around Big Bear Hill.”

  “I didn’t know that. Don’t you think it’s at all odd that chef Gourdaine used blueberries in his appetizer round – his wife won Best Bite for her blueberry roll-ups – and blueberry stains were found on the shirt of the deceased?”

  “Why would I find that odd? Blueberries are a cooking ingredient, not the murder weapon, Talia.”

  “Of course. So, there you have it, Murry. Chef Andy Gourdaine, who was known to harbor malice for Billy Flye, and might be the number one suspect in the murder, may have had his blueberry-stained hands all over Flye’s clothing shortly before he was killed. Back to you!”

  Oh. My. Gosh! Brody is going to be furious.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I walked cautiously back to Team Smoke’s kitchen, only to find Brody laughing out loud as soon as he saw me.

  “Now you know why I don’t like talking to reporters, Mercy,” he said, still with a big mocking smile on his face.

  I punched his shoulder. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Brody. It was awful.”

  “I thought you were great, Mercy,” Junior told me earnestly, between bites of his brisket sandwich. “You sounded real professional, with just the right amount of official double-talk. And, of course, you looked real pretty too.”

 

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