by Lynn Cahoon
“You are very sly.”
They listened as Ann went over her canned welcome to Garden City and how happy she and the other elected officials were that people were coming to their campaign booths located just inside the exhibition hall main entrance. Then she repeated all the same rules and assignments for the contest. Maybe there were other people here who didn’t attend the other two events, but Angie noticed that most of the crowds’ eyes were glazing over.
When she banged the cymbals one of the local marching bands had lent her, they moved to the back of the trailer. “Okay, Bleak, timer on. Thirty minutes and I expect to see you back here.”
Bleak nodded and set Angie’s watch. She held it up for Angie to see. “I’ll be back on time. I’m going to go see the rabbits first.”
“Make sure you hydrate,” Angie called after Bleak. She held her hand up, letting Angie know she’d heard.
“Good call, Mom.” Hope grinned and hopped into the trailer. “Where do you want me, Estebe?”
Angie might be the head chef, but Hope treated Estebe as if he was her boss. The guy had earned her respect by the way he’d taken her under his wing and taught her in the kitchen. Hope definitely wasn’t treated like just a dishwasher. “Sue me for worrying. Let’s get this going. I know we’re going to win.”
Their dish was based on the chick-on-a-stick idea, but this chick wasn’t just chicken. It was a portable chicken-and-dumplings recipe. “Just like Sunday dinner at Grandma’s” had been their menu descriptor. Angie just hoped it was inventive enough. She’d had spaghetti to go in NYC when she’d visited last year, a dish plated into a paper cone for ease of eating and walking.
As they started the prep, Angie thought about the smile she’d seen on Bleak’s face when she’d taken off for the small animal barn. She was totally different from the closed-off, defensive girl she’d met just a few days ago. She might not have blood family here, but she was finding out what Angie had learned so many years ago. Family came in a lot of different baskets.
Chapter 18
Service had gone well that afternoon. The dumplings had been sturdy enough to stay on the stick, yet they still tasted light and fluffy. The chicken was tender and flavorful. Angie and Estebe were sitting outside at the table as Hope and Bleak finished cleaning the trailer. Angie finished off a bottle of water. “Did you see anyone else’s dish?”
“I heard that Bien Viveres did a taco dish using fish. But I didn’t actually see anyone else’s work.” Estebe grunted. “Like that’s innovative. Everyone has fish tacos on the menu.”
“You never know what’s going to strike the right chord in the judges.” Angie rolled her shoulders. She’d be glad when tomorrow was over. “As soon as they are done with the trailer, we’ll go grab something to eat, my treat.”
“Okay.” Estebe thrummed his fingers on the table. “Tell me what you’re hoping to find tonight?”
“I guess a reason that someone would target Nubbins specifically. I don’t want to think this is all random. Random means chaos. I like order better.” Angie rubbed her left shoulder, which had started to twitch under Estebe’s watchful eye.
“You believe his girlfriend or his wife did this.”
Angie knew it wasn’t a question. “This one or another one. Sheila said he had problems with groupies. I can’t see the wife hosting this huge wake to honor her husband if she was the one who actually sent him to the ferryman.”
Estebe’s lips twitched into a small smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time a grieving widow turned out to be the one who set up her situation. But we will know more tonight when we meet her.”
Angie closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was go home and fall into her claw-foot tub with a bottle of wine.
“Something is bothering me about your theory, though.”
Angie’s eyes blinked open. “What did I miss?”
“Chef Nubbins wasn’t the only one attacked. If this was personal and about him, no one else, except someone in his circle, would have been hurt. Brandon Cook isn’t even a chef, right?”
“Actually, he is a chef. He works in the statehouse for the governor. He just doesn’t run a business like the rest of us.” Angie’s head hurt. Every time she thought she had a lead, someone, like Estebe, would burst her bubble. “But not a lot of people know that. Sydney’s the chef everyone knows. And from what I know, Brandon wasn’t attached to Nubbins in any way.”
“Which means…”
Angie stood when Bleak came out of the trailer with Hope right behind her. “Which means I’m barking up the wrong tree. Let’s go eat. I want to get rid of this headache.”
“Woo-hoo. Where are we going?” Hope bounced as she waited for the answer.
“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s all fair food.” She glanced at Estebe. “Any favorites?”
“I’ve heard the fish fry over at the Catholic booth is rad.” He elbowed Hope. “I said that right, didn’t I!”
“Rad isn’t really popular now, so don’t get your ego all big about it. You still have a long way to go to be comfortable with slang,” Hope teased. She laughed at the confusion showing on Angie’s face. “I’m teaching him how to talk normal. He’s just so stuffy.”
“You will think I’m stuffy when you come back to piles of dishes because I let Bleak cook on the line.” Narrowing his gaze made him look determined.
Hope giggled. “You wouldn’t do that. I’ve seen you clean a stove a second time because you didn’t think Matt did a good enough job. Face it, you’re a clean freak.”
“I could be persuaded.” He locked the trailer. “Ladies, after you.”
Bleak and Hope moved off together toward the fish fry. Angie fell into step with Estebe. When they were far enough ahead they wouldn’t overhear, Angie turned her head toward him. “I’m glad they’re getting along. Bleak needed a friend closer to her age. I know that Hope’s five years ahead, but she’s a great role model.”
“Bleak has an old soul. There is more childhood joy in Hope than I’ve seen in Bleak. I hope she learns to laugh soon.” He smiled at her. “You are a good judge of people.”
“I am a sucker for a good story.” Angie pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Hold on, it’s Felicia. I’ll meet you all at the booth. And keep your receipt if you have to pay before I get there and I’ll pay you back. Two-piece dinner for me with fries and coleslaw.”
“I will get the children fed.” He pointed to the phone. “Tell her I said hello.”
Angie smiled, then turned off the walkway and tucked into a corner of the outside of a couple of booths. “Hey, Felicia, what’s up?”
“Just checking in. Have they said anything about tomorrow’s limitations? I’m thinking I’m going to spin some ice cream.”
“Nothing yet. But we are on a dinner break as they deliberate. Then we should know about six. Want me to call you then?” Angie could hear the noise from the restaurant in the background. Service had just started.
“I’ll be working the hostess station. Trish called in sick tonight, so I’m one person down. If you hadn’t taken Bleak, I could have put her on the entrance.”
Angie watched the swarm of people walking in front of her. All ages from grandmas to babies. Everyone loved the state fair. “It’s good for her to have new experiences.”
“She is an employee. You remember that, right?” Felicia teased. “And I hear you’re taking my boyfriend out tonight.”
“Oh? He’s your boyfriend?”
Felicia laughed. “Something like that. Where are you guys going?”
“A wake for Chef Nubbins. His wife’s putting it on and wants the group who was here when he died to come.” Angie shivered in the hot sun. “It’s kind of weird, but she sent Sheila around with flyers for everyone.”
“And you’re going to see if you can find out anything about why he might be dead?”
“You’re a suspicious type. Maybe I just want the County Seat to be present and pay our respects. Especially since you’ll be in the middle of service.” Angie knew Felicia wouldn’t buy the crap she was selling, but she liked to practice her excuse.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to your sleuthing. Just wanted to let you know we’re fine here. Nancy has everyone in the kitchen working hard to prove that they are just as good without you and Estebe as when you are there. I think you’ve got some competitive staff.”
“You got that right. I’ll call you on the way home and give you an update.” Angie said good-bye and moved quickly to the booth, where the rest of the team probably were already eating. She wouldn’t have a lot of time to eat before they were expected back at the Restaurant Wars event.
The girls were chattering and Estebe looking at something on his phone when she got to the table. Her fish and chips sat waiting for her along with a bottle of water. “Felicia says hi and that she misses you.”
“You made up that last part.” Estebe smiled, putting his phone away. “She is busy with the restaurant. She doesn’t have time to miss anyone.”
“Whatever.” She glanced over at Hope. “Are you two going to the carnival tonight?”
“Most definitely. I didn’t get to ride much last weekend due to my prone position, but I loaded up on water all day. The only thing that will keep me from doing all the rides are the lines.” Hope and Bleak high-fived each other.
“And the trips to the bathroom,” Angie added.
Estebe chuckled, but Hope and Bleak were already planning their attack to get the most out of the time they had at the fair.
“We should be done with the contest in just a few minutes after we get back.”
Estebe shook his head. “The woman’s speeches get longer and longer. Tomorrow she will have to talk from dusk to dawn to fit all the praise for her leadership into the discussion.”
As they finished dinner, Angie saw a text from Ian. What are you doing after the fair? Want me to come over?
She texted back. Sorry, I’ve got plans tonight. Come over for coffee early tomorrow. I have to be at the fairgrounds at ten.
She put the phone back in her jeans and stood. “Let’s go, kids. I want to get this over with. Maybe we’ll get lucky and not be in the top three.”
Angie’s luck failed when the County Seat was announced as the day’s winner. Since the Sandpiper had won the first day but had left the contest due to “unfortunate circumstances,” they’d chosen a third restaurant based on overall votes that would be competing tomorrow. The County Seat, Copper Creek, and Bien Viveres. Rider James and the Black Angus were out of the competition. So, if he was the one killing to narrow the field, he’d narrowed himself right out of the running.
Tara stepped over after the announcements. Reaching out her hand, she said, “Congrats. I hope you win tomorrow.”
“Really?” Angie knew by the look on Tara’s face that wasn’t what she’d expected.
“Yes, really. Look, you have a bad habit of investigating things. It’s no skin off my nose. David’s wife knew about me. She called me last night to see how I was doing.”
“Wow.” Angie didn’t know what was up with all these confessions, but Tara had surprised her twice.
Tara shrugged, glancing around. “She called to invite me to the wake tonight. Said I might be feeling uncomfortable, but since she knew that David and I were close, that I should come.”
“That’s generous.” Angie knew she’d never be that open to being kind if she’d found out that her future husband had been straying. “So, are you going?”
“Are you kidding? This could be a setup. Or maybe the widow likes to play with people’s heads. Either way, I’m out of the picture. I have been for months. Your barista friend didn’t tell you that we haven’t been at the coffee shop or the hotel in more than seven weeks. He called it off. He wanted to make things right with his wife. So, we were done.” She snapped her fingers. “Over and out. He always just saw us as fun. Not as a real couple.”
Angie could see the pain on Tara’s face. “But you thought there might be a chance.”
Nodding, Tara took a tissue out of her pocket. “Silly me. I thought when he told me he loved me that he actually meant it. Dating just keeps getting harder and harder. I’m going to be an old maid, if they even call people like me that name anymore.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Angie could see the pain in Tara’s face. Angie heard several clicks of a camera, and she pulled Tara next to her. She leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Smile. People need to see that you’re okay.”
After Tara had left, Angie watched as Hope came around the trailer. Estebe’s digital camera hung around her neck. Angie reached out a hand and Hope gave it to her.
“Why did you want her picture?”
“Just wanted to see if anyone recognizes her from being around here last Friday.” She glanced around and found the security guard who had been on duty the first weekend. “Estebe, I’ll be right back and we can go. I’ll see you two tomorrow, right?”
Hope and Bleak nodded. “We’ll be here right at ten.”
“Be careful,” Estebe called after them. To Angie, he pointed to the table by the trailer. “I’ll be waiting there. You be careful too.”
Angie stepped up to the guard. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
He frowned at her, then nodded. “You’re one of the chefs, right?”
“Angie Turner of the County Seat.” She held up the camera and pointed to the digital screen. “Do you recognize her?”
“Of course, she’s another one of the chefs.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you asking? I assume you already know who she is since she’s posing with you in the picture.”
“Friday night, when we went to grab dinner, was she still in the trailer area?”
“I don’t know. There were a lot of people in and out.” His eyes went wide. “What, you think she killed that guy? She must be all of five foot five.”
“You don’t have to be tall to poison someone.” Angie dropped her arm that held the camera. “Thanks for your time.”
“I said I didn’t know where she was, not that I didn’t see people going in that trailer.” He smirked at her. “But since you have no legal authority, I don’t have to tell you anything. Have a nice day.”
Angie watched as he spun around and left the area. The guy had an attitude. Maybe Sheriff Brown could take him down a few pegs. She picked up the phone and called.
By the time she’d made it back to the trailer, Estebe was pacing by the door. Her tote was on the table. “There you are. We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry. You can ride with me, and I’ll drop you back at your car afterward.”
“Is the trailer locked? Do you want me to hold on to this?” Angie held out the camera.
“I will put it in my car. I don’t trust these trailers. Anyone with half a brain could bust into this lock with no problems. I like my camera.” He handed her the tote. “Let’s go.”
The Sandpiper was ten minutes away from the fairgrounds, but with the large number of people coming in and out of the area, she figured they’d be lucky if they got there in twenty. Estebe, though, had other plans. He whipped his Hummer around traffic, going the opposite way and across the river.
“The Sandpiper is on Main Street,” Angie said through gritted teeth.
“I know where it is,” he said as he weaved between a classic Mustang and a jacked-up Dodge Ram truck. It was Friday night, and everyone seemed to be on the road to somewhere.
Angie grabbed the built-in handhold and closed her eyes as he ran up behind a tanker truck with a large cow painted on the side. When she didn’t feel the crash, she opened one eye carefully and looked around. They were past the truck and now turning onto a road that she knew went to a golf course. “I don’t think there’s a brid
ge to cross the river here.”
“There is a bridge a few blocks down.” He took the turn, and she slid in her seat.
She decided it was better not to question his route, and by the time they pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, they were only a few minutes late. He turned to her and grinned. “My brothers and I used to caddy at that golf course. I know exactly where the faster routes are.”
“Remind me not to ride with you next time.” Angie climbed out of the Hummer, her legs shaking when she hit the ground.
He came around and took her arm. “What’s life without a little danger?”
They walked into the restaurant and into a crowd. Everyone who was part of the culinary community was there. The dean from Hope’s program at the university waved at her from across the room. She thought she recognized several of her professors as well. It appeared that Tara had stayed true to her word and hadn’t come.
Sydney and Brandon Cook approached from the snack table. Sydney’s plate was stacked high with appetizers. “Angie, I’m so glad to see you.”
“Brandon, glad you’re up and going. You gave us quite a scare last weekend.” Estebe shook his hand.
As he released from the handshake, Brandon reached down to touch Sydney’s expanding belly. Angie wondered if he even realized he’d done it. The move seemed instinctual. “I know. Sydney always said food was going to kill me, but we thought it was because of my perfectionism while I’m working. Who knew you couldn’t accept food from strangers?”
“Is that what happened?” Angie took a glass of champagne from one of the passing waiters.
Both Brandon and Sydney laughed. “Honestly, we’re still not sure. The only thing Brandon remembers eating is the nachos that were on the table outside the trailer. He thought I’d ordered them because he’d told me a few minutes earlier that he was starving. I’d actually forgotten about getting food because we’d just been announced as the day’s winner. So I was busy.”
“Too busy to feed the father of her child,” Brandon added.