Cinco De Murder

by Rebecca Adler

  “Turn your flashlight on so I can find you.” I was hoping he was still conscious. “And, by the way, you’re welcome.”

  “You caught him?” His voice held too much skepticism for my liking.

  “Me, Lenny, and a couple of deputies.”

  “Huh.” He groaned. “That’s great. Slow down. You’re almost here.”

  “Wave your flashlight. I don’t want to run you over. You’d be flatter than a fritter.”

  “Slow down,” he ordered. “And if we’re throwing around Texas sayings, you’re louder than a stampede of buffalo.”

  I’d never heard a stampede of buffalo though I saw a herd out in Caprock Canyons State Park once on a family vacation. Lightfoot must have been all kinds of stressed out to suggest such a thing—which wasn’t surprising, seeing as how he’d hurt his leg and I’d stolen his thunder by catching Fillmore.

  Up ahead, I found him at the end of my high beams. He was standing on one foot, grimacing as if he’d lost the other leg in a battle with Santa Anna.

  “Lenny, stay. You don’t want those coyotes to come back, do you?”

  My long-haired Chihuahua friend climbed into the front window for a better view as I picked my way forward with a bit more speed and threw the cruiser in park. Carefully, walking through the rocks and cacti with the help of the cruiser’s headlights, I ignored Lightfoot’s stern look of disapproval, took his arm, and placed it around my shoulders.

  “Who said it was okay for you to drive my cruiser?” He hopped and grunted toward the vehicle.

  “You did, remember?”

  “What was I smoking?” Lightfoot was going into shock. I’d never heard anything halfway snarky ever pass his lips. He tried to point me toward the driver’s side.

  “Don’t even think about it.” I jerked open the passenger door and helped him into the seat, barely managing to get him inside without bumping his head.

  A breath separated our faces from each other. His arm still clung around my shoulder. I stared at him, and he stared at me. “I don’t kiss on a first date.”

  “Good thing this isn’t a date.” He leaned forward and so did I. He gently placed his lips against mine.

  I froze, not daring to breathe, and closed my eyes.

  “If you’re finished taking advantage of me, I think I’m going into shock.” I backed out of the car so fast I whacked my back on the door handle.

  “Yip, yip, yip.” Not to be outdone, Lenny jumped into Lightfoot’s arms and gave him a kiss.

  “Against regulations.” He whined and drew in a quick breath. “You trying to get me fired?”

  “Heck, yes.” I ran around to the driver’s side. Then it dawned on me. There was no way to turn around.

  “Seriously, get out of the driver’s seat. I’ve driven in far worse condition.” His words passed slowly through gritted teeth.

  “Shh. Hold on.” I was in park, but the brake lights would do a fair job of illuminating our path as long as I kept watch over my shoulder. “There’s plenty of light to back up with if I go slow enough.”

  “Hey—”

  I craned my neck, held down the foot brake, and moved the clutch into reverse. Slowly, like a box turtle on Valium, I backed that cruiser down the path, taking out a barrel cactus and a sapling, which made a horrible scratching sound to the undercarriage of the SUV.

  “Pull this over now.” When we hit another bump, he could barely contain his groan of pain.

  “Yip.” Lenny tried to give him another kiss.

  “Stop that,” he said, and unceremoniously tossed him into the backseat.

  “Watch it, buddy. He’s trying to make you feel better. Service dogs, ever heard of them?”

  There was silence as I continued to pick my way.

  “Not in need of a service dog. If you’d bothered to examine my leg, you’d know I merely need an emergency room.”

  “Almost there.” I focused on the Prius, at the last minute swerving around it and coming to a screeching halt.

  I hopped out and gave Deputy Pleasant the keys. “Watch out, he’s grumpier than an old bear.”

  She left Barnes beside the cruiser, reading a handcuffed Fillmore his rights. Lightfoot had managed to open his door.

  “Hey, Detective, you don’t look so good,” Pleasant said. She studied the pain etched across his face and the way he held tightly to his leg with one arm. “You need to drive over to Marfa to the emergency room and let them check out that leg.”

  “He’s not driving anywhere tonight.” She and I exchanged a look of bemusement.

  “Yes, I am.” He collapsed back against the seat. “If I were a cursing man, I’d curse.”

  “And you’d be more than entitled.” I gave Pleasant a smile. “But don’t you worry. I’ll get you there safe and sound.” I grimaced. “Well, maybe not sound, seeing as how you’re in pain.”

  “No. Way.”

  Pleasant shrugged. “Sorry, Lightfoot. The only seat we have is in the back with that Fillmore character. You don’t want that?”

  “No.” Lightfoot and I said in unison.

  “Yip.”

  “We’ll stop by the station as soon as they’ve finished with me in Marfa.” Lightfoot sat up straight and tipped his hat.

  Lenny jumped onto the surprised detective’s legs, raised his front paws onto his chest, and gave him a spectacular doggie kiss.

  “Get him out of here.” Lightfoot spluttered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  I burst out laughing.

  “Take your time.” Deputy Pleasant smiled and waved.

  “See you later.” I retrieved my warmhearted canine friend. “You’re a good boy. Yes, sir.”

  “Yip.”

  Lenny and I cruised back around to the driver’s seat. “Oh, he is a very scary detective,” I whispered. My long-haired Chi’s bright eyes shone with mischief. “But you were very brave to kiss him.”

  “Yip, yip.”

  “And so was I.”

  Chapter 22

  Monday, Monday

  The chili cook-off had come and gone. Was it a huge hit? It was a thrill for those fortunate enough to win. It was a decent start to a tradition that I hoped would gain traction, growing and improving in years to come. A new tradition for citizens, tourists, and all who loved the high-plain desert and the simple folks who lived here.

  Okay, so the publicity we received had more to do with Lucky’s death and Frank Fillmore’s capture than the chili cook-off itself. Still, it was something we could build on. Dani and her family, Whip and his Apache camper, and the rest of the tourists from the cook-off had packed up their knives and gone home. And frankly, if I ever ate another bowl of chili, pigs would fly across the Rio Grande on the back of a parasail.

  “Where are the chile rellenos?” Uncle Eddie took off his hat and hung it on the coatrack near the front door. He found a place next to Ryan Prescott. At first, I had made a point not to invite Ryan—too afraid he’d act all weird and possessive. But Senora Mari insisted. And that was that.

  “Yip,” Lenny said.

  “What, Lenster?” Ryan asked. “You’ve eaten the chile rellenos? Man, what’s come over you?”

  “Yip.”

  “See you later.” Ryan said to the dog at his feet. “I’ll hook you up with something for heartburn.”

  “Today, no chiles!” I opened the kitchen door with a flourish. “For Aunt Linda, something delicious and healthy.” Senora Mari entered with a large tray bearing two platters of grilled snapper and peppers and onions.

  Ryan’s mouth dropped open. “Senora Mari, you’ve outdone yourself.” He sniffed the air like a fox in a chicken coop. “What can I ever do to repay you?”

  “Wash dishes, senor.” The group laughed. “It’s no joke,” Senora Mari said. “I had to fire a dishwasher today. Now we’re shorthanded. />
  “Woo-wee.” He grinned. “What a treat.” Ryan was acting up a storm, being kind to my abuela. He had a genuine and thorough disgust for any seafood that wasn’t fried, except for raw oysters—he thought eating the slimy boogers a way to prove his manliness.

  “I’m here. Don’t count me out.” Aunt Linda took her place at the end of the table. For our family’s big event postmortem luncheon, we’d pushed a few tables together and invited our friends. Anthony and Lily were serving, but as soon as we all had our meals they would sit at the end table and enjoy the fruits of their labors.

  “Don’t start without me.” My abuela pointed at each of us sitting around the table. “Or you will have nightmares until the apocalypse.” She lifted her finger into the air, issuing a proclamation, and then hurried back to the kitchen.

  “Is she kidding?” Patti asked. With one of her long black fingernails, she hooked a piece of onion from the snapper platter and tossed it in her mouth.

  “Nice manners, Perez.” Ryan shook his head in mock disgust.

  “In your dreams, Prescott.”

  “Who knows?” I asked everyone at the table. “Kidding or not, we should all be on our best behavior. What if, in addition to having prophetic dreams, she can control what each of us dreams about?”

  “That would be a nightmare in itself,” Uncle Eddie muttered.

  “Nightmares about onions and smelly feet.” Suddenly Patti looked worried.

  The cowbell over the front door rang. Aunt Linda stood, ready to take control. “Sorry, we’re not—”

  “Am I early?” It was Lightfoot, and he was not what I expected. He wore a pair of slacks with one leg cut off above a startling white cast. A Western shirt of a fancy fabric was tucked into an exquisite tribal belt. But what really made me gawk was the fact he wore no hat over his dark braid.

  I smiled and tried not to ogle. “No, no. Right this way.” I gestured toward a seat at the end of the table.

  “Detective, ignore my granddaughter, she is being impolite.” Senora Mari set two heavy platters of shrimp fajitas on the tables.

  “She comes by it honest,” Uncle Eddie muttered.

  Lightfoot shifted his crutches so the door could close and started clumsily for the seat at the far end.

  “I was just about to switch seats when you walked in.” Aunt Linda scooted out of her chair and took the seat I’d offered at the end of the table.

  He stared at the seat next to mine. He stared at the tableful of guests who stared back in return. “Don’t mind if I do.” With a big smile, he handed me a crutch, wriggled into his seat, handed me the other crutch, and gave me a wink.

  Forget the butterflies, my heart was singing “Stand By Your Man,” complete with fiddles and a banjo. One wink from Detective Quint Lightfoot and I was Tammy Wynette.

  I looked up and found Ryan watching me closely, his gaze filled with understanding, a lopsided grin on his face.

  “Give me those before you knock yourself out with them.” Patti appeared at my side, grabbed Lightfoot’s crutches, and carried them into the bar. With a quick glance to ensure she wasn’t seen, she locked eyes with me. “Don’t let this one get away,” she mouthed silently.

  I folded my hands and lifted my eyes to the ceiling.

  “What’s wrong?” Lightfoot asked.

  I nearly choked on my Dr Pepper. “Oh, nothing. I was praying you like fish.”

  “As long as it’s not from Tommy’s Catfish Canal.”

  “Why?” Senora Mari’s eyes grew wide. “Is that against the law?”

  Lenny’s Little Dog Blog

  Have I Got a Fiesta for You

  First things first: A big Texas howdy to all y’all from Lenny—that’s me.

  Next: A shout-out to all the inhabitants of Broken Boot, Big Bend County, and creatures ginormous, puny, and somewhere in between currently reading the Little Dog Blog on the World Wide Web.

  Writing a blog is fun and all, but it’s not what it’s cracked up to be. Other folks might enjoy sharing their feelings online, but most of them have fingers. You try slapping your nose against a keyboard for an hour at a time and see how you like it. Not to mention, I have to run to the other side of the computer just to hit the backspace. My owner, spunky waitress Josie Callahan, came up with the bright idea for me to write a blog, but if you ask me, it’s her way of keeping her journalistic muscles toned while saying what she really thinks about the mysterious events going on in our rustic, postage-stamp-sized town. After all, who could be offended at the scribblings of an adorable, long-haired Chihuahua?

  What can I say? There’s no way to explain the crazy goings-on around town. Let’s review. Our debut event was the First Annual Wild Wild West Festival, full of lively music, a silent auction, tamale-eating contest, and the murder of acclaimed local jewelry designer, Dixie Honeycutt. Josie and I solved that murder with a little help from Detective Quint Lightfoot and Sheriff Mack Wallace. Our second mega event was the First Annual Homestead Days Music Festival, full of lively country music and the murder of country singer Jeff Clark. Josie and I solved that crime as well with a little help from Detective Lightfoot and the Big Bend County sheriff’s deputies. Last but not least, and I bet you know where I’m heading with this one, the First Annual Charity Chili Cook-off and Cinco de Mayo Fiesta, full of lively music—both mariachi, my favorite, and marching bands—folklórico dancing, fireworks, and the murder of champion chili cook Lucky Straw. Josie and I solved that crime, ’cause that’s what we do.

  When you’re planning your next Texas vacation don’t forget to stop by and see us in Broken Boot. Nothing compares to the rugged beauty of Big Sky country or the mouthwatering Tex-Mex offered at Milagro on Main Street. Until then, you can read my blog. You never know what the good folks of Broken Boot and Big Bend County will be up to next.

  Adios for now, amigos,

  Lenny

  Recipes

  Uncle Eddie’s Nontraditional Venison Chili

  Serves 8–10

  Prep time: 15 minutes (beans soak overnight). Cook time: 6 hours

  ½ pound pinto beans

  2 tablespoons salt

  5 cups canned tomatoes

  1 medium red onion, chopped

  3 bell peppers, chopped

  1½ teaspoons olive oil

  2 cloves garlic, crushed

  ½ cup chopped parsley

  ½ cup butter

  2½ pounds ground venison

  1 pound ground pork

  ½ cup chili powder

  1½ teaspoons pepper

  1½ teaspoons cumin

  Wash beans thoroughly and soak overnight in water 2 inches above beans. Wash again and simmer with salt until tender (about 4 hours).

  Simmer tomatoes in separate pan for 5 minutes. Sauté onions and bell peppers in olive oil; add to tomatoes, and cook until tender. Add garlic and parsley.

  Melt butter in skillet and sauté venison and pork for 15 minutes. Drain off grease, add meat to tomato and onion mixture. Stir in chili powder and cook 10 minutes; add beans, pepper, and cumin. Simmer covered for 1 hour, uncovered for 30 minutes.

  Josie’s Baked Jalapeño Poppers

  Serves 8 or more

  Prep time: 15 minutes. Cook time: 25 minutes

  6 slices of bacon, cooked crispy

  16 jalapeño chiles

  1 teaspoon crushed garlic or 2 teaspoons garlic powder

  3 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

  1½ cups cream cheese, room temperature

  2 cups cheddar cheese, medium or sharp, grated

  Cooking spray

  Preheat oven to 500 degrees F.

  Fry the bacon until crisp and drain. Rinse chiles and pat dry. Remove the stems and slice the chiles in half, lengthwise. Use a small knife to remove seeds and membranes to taste. (The heat of the chiles is in the seeds and membranes.
Rinse the chiles again to remove hot oils if you desire.)

  In a medium bowl, add garlic, Parmesan cheese, and room-temperature cream cheese. Mix well. If you prefer a lot of heat in your poppers, you can add back the seeds and chopped membrane into the cheese and garlic mixture. Crush the bacon and add to mixture. Stir until blended.

  Place the chiles under the broiler, cut side down on a baking sheet. Roast the chiles until their skin is charred a brownish-blackish color. (This yummy step is optional.)

  Spray a baking sheet with cooking spray.

  Using a spoon, heap the cheese mixture into each chile pepper half and top and sprinkle with cheddar cheese. Push the sprinkled cheese into the cheese mixture. Place the stuffed jalapeño poppers on the cookie sheet. Bake for 25 minutes or until the tops are a beautiful golden brown.

  Texas Eggs

  Serves 6

  Prep time: 5 minutes. Cook time: 15 minutes

  3–4 jalapeños, or roasted and peeled fresh green chiles

  1 large onion, diced

  1 bell pepper, diced

  2 tablespoons butter

  1 dozen eggs

  1 cup grated cheddar cheese

  1 large tomato, diced

  Seed and chop jalapeños. In skillet, brown onion and bell pepper in butter. Remove from skillet. Beat eggs until frothy. Pour into skillet and cook until soft and very wet. Add the other ingredients and serve.

  Huevos Rancheros

  Serves 2

  Prep time: 10 minutes. Cook time: 20 minutes

  3 Roma tomatoes

  ¼ medium white onion

  1 garlic clove

  1 serrano chile (more chiles, more heat)

  ½ teaspoon thyme, fresh