by Holly Plum
Mari felt a prickle of disappointment. She had been looking forward to the competition for a long time and had expected it to yield you a good reward.
“I guess I can’t blame you.” Mari sighed. “No one’s going to want to eat any of the food we prepared after what happened today.” Tabasco wiggled, trying to break free from his leash.
“I think I’d better go,” Opal said, giving the dog a wary look.
Tabasco finally broke free and went charging at the nearest table of food. Opal watched in horror as Mari ran after him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tabasco dashed through the rows of tables, Mari following in close pursuit. A small crowd of onlookers gathered to watch the chase, a few of them even trying to leap in front of the dog and cut him off. Tabasco knocked over a whole table of papier-mâché baskets, and he ducked in and out of Bubba Jones’s art booth. Down the street, Tabasco ran without stopping. Mari was out of breath by the time she reached the steps of the local chapel.
Here at the very edge of the festival grounds, the whole world lay still and quiet. Mari heard crickets chirping in the large patches of overgrown grass on the other side of the train tracks. The evening wind was cool on her face.
Tabasco had paused at the corner of the church and now stood gazing into the alleyway where a crew of workers had set up a beer garden a few hours before. Mari heard the slamming of a door and the low rumble of a couple of voices heatedly talking. As quietly as she could, she crept toward the edge of the alley and knelt down low to avoid being seen as she listened.
“Look, all I’m saying is, I’ll think about it,” came the drawling voice of Bubba. “I’d like to take you up on your offer. I really would. But I would be taking a huge risk.”
“You’ve got nothing to lose,” came a second voice. A man’s voice. “You know what people have been saying about your meats. What Brandy said.”
“I know what Brandy said,” Bubba said through his teeth.
Mari peered around the corner. A white van was parked in the lot in front of the beer garden. One of the van’s back doors had been opened, and a stout man in a gray uniform was nonchalantly leaning against it, a beer in one hand. Bubba wiped the back of his sweaty neck. He looked deeply uncomfortable.
“Then you want to make sure no one ever says those things about your meat again,” the man said. Whatever he was trying to get Bubba to do, he was very insistent about it.
Bubba let out a reluctant sigh. “What’s your final offer?”
The man said a number. Bubba’s face turned white.
“Seriously, that much?”
The man shrugged. “Right now, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”
Bubba shook his head sadly. “If word of this gets out, I’ll be ruined. I’ll never be able to show my face in this town again."
In spite of his reservations, Bubba reached into his wallet and carefully counted out the amount requested. The uniformed man waited with an outstretched hand, trying not to look too eager.
Realizing that the transaction was nearing completion and that they would soon be leaving the alley, Mari grabbed Tabasco and raced back to her car. She felt unnerved by what she had just witnessed. Bubba had a secret he wanted to keep the world from finding out. To that end, he had just paid a man an enormous sum of money to stay quiet.
One line from their conversation kept playing in her head again and again as Mari drove toward Lito Bueno’s Mexican Restaurant. Then you want to make sure no one ever says those things about your meat again. It suggested the lengths to which Bubba was willing to go to silence the people who had been spreading rumors about him. Mari's stomach tightened as she thought about Brandy’s lifeless body, and about the hatred Bubba had expressed.
If word of this gets out, Bubba had said, I’ll be ruined.
Had Bubba poisoned a woman to stop her from slandering his restaurant and putting him out of business? Mari played the conversation over again and again in her head. By the time she pulled into the parking lot of Lito Bueno’s a few minutes later, Mari was sure she had found her murderer.
***
Because Alex had slipped out of the restaurant without any explanation, Mari found herself closing that night with the help of Chrissy, a perky blonde in her mid-twenties, and Mateo, the taciturn bus boy.
“Brandy’s death is literally the only thing anyone’s talked about all night,” Chrissy said with her usual cheerfulness. “I’m honestly kind of sick of hearing about it.”
“Did you know Brandy?” Mari asked Chrissy.
“Yeah, we went to school together. She was on the newspaper staff in high school. A real go-getter. She was the one who exposed the fact that Vice-Principal Garland had bribed the leaders of the National Honor Society to nominate his own sons as members. Everyone knew they were completely unqualified for the positions. Brandy wrote a whole exposé about it.”
“Maybe I should add your old Vice Principal to our list of suspects,” Mari commented. She was only half-joking.
“And his two sons,” Chrissy added. “They actually transferred to a new school. They were so embarrassed. Of course, Vice Principal Garland took over as Principal there and within a few months they were both in the National Honor Society.”
“I bet Brandy was ticked off about that," Mari mumbled.
“Oh, she was rattled by the news. There wasn’t a thing she could do about it." Chrissy placed her hands on her hips.
Mari laughed. “You know, I kind of like Brandy. She seems to have made a ton of enemies, but she was a spirited woman. She knew what she wanted in life, and she went after it.”
“Don't be so envious,” Chrissy said with wide eyes. “One of her enemies got even in the end. I like being alive, thanks very much.”
“I know what you mean,” Mari's brother David chimed in. He was wiping down the tables with a wet rag. “To a certain kind of guy, there’s something very attractive about a woman who doesn’t let herself get bossed around. I don’t like having a girl I can control. Give me someone magnificently uncontrollable, I say.”
Mari stared at David. She had never known him to be such a passionate supporter of women’s rights. “David, I’m impressed,” Mari teased. "Especially since the last thing you said to me before closing last night was you're the girl, so you clean it up."
David blushed, glancing in Chrissy's direction. His attempt to impress her had backfired. "I said that? That doesn't sound like me."
"I'm pretty sure that's what you told me," Mari insisted. "Word for word."
“So, Mari,” Chrissy said changing the subject, “what were you doing in the judge’s tent just before Brandy keeled over anyway?”
“Who told you I was in the judge’s tent?” Mari asked, her heart racing.
“It’s all over town,” Chrissy responded. “I heard it from at least three customers that you were seen in the tent right before Brandy died, and that you had spoon-fed her a bite of salsa.”
“Okay, almost none of that is true,” Mari protested.
“I didn’t think it was.” Chrissy shrugged. “But you were there, weren’t you?”
Not seeing any way out of the question, Mari said, “I wasn’t actually in the tent when it happened. I went in for a few minutes to drop something off, and then I left. This was about half an hour before I found out Brandy had died.”
“What did you drop off?” Chrissy raised her eyebrows, but she already knew the answer.
Mari hadn’t wanted anyone to know that she had entered the Best Bite in Town competition. David leaned in to listen closer. Mari threw him a reproachful look.
“Do y’all promise you won’t tell anyone?” Mari glared at everyone in the room, including Mateo who was being uncomfortably silent.
“I promise,” David agreed.
“Me too,” Chrissy replied.
Mateo nodded in agreement.
“Fine." Mari took a deep breath. "I entered our secret family salsa recipe into the Best Bite in Town competition. I didn’t tell
anyone because Dad would make me drop out.”
“I think Dad would change his tune pretty quickly if you won the thousand dollars,” David commented.
“I would hope so.” Mari sighed. “But it doesn’t matter now because the contest has been canceled.”
“It’s a matter of time before your day finds out anyway,” Chrissy said. “The word is all over town that you poisoned Brandy with the family salsa.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have entered that competition,” Mari muttered with a sick feeling in her stomach. “I had a feeling it would come back to bite me. I would never have guessed how much.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Mari didn’t hear much from her dad over the next few days. She took his silence to mean that he knew she had entered the contest without his knowledge and had heard the rumors that were spreading about the family and the restaurant. Mr. José Ramirez had a short temper and often avoided situations that made him more irritated. Perhaps he was giving himself time to cool off before confronting Mari?
Mari's brother David had kept his promise not to tell their father what she had done. But that didn’t stop David from telling Alex, who brought it up a couple of days later when they were working the lunch shift together.
“I know you probably didn’t kill Brandy,” Alex commented, “but it sure as heck is suspicious.”
“You don't have to tell me that,” Mari responded. “At this point, I’m surprised we still have customers. And I may never get a date in this town again.”
“Just don’t offer to make dinner for them,” Alex suggested.
Meanwhile, in the sunlit dining room, three policemen were just sitting down for lunch. As with most of Lito Bueno’s customers for the past three days, they discussed the death of Brandy Davos and the possible cancellation of the town's annual Chile Fest.
“The coroner’s report finally came back last night,” said Detective Price, who was eating a plate of chimichangas and Spanish rice. Mari busied herself at the front of the restaurant, trying not to look like she was eavesdropping. “Miss Davos was definitely poisoned. Extremely high concentrations of arsenic turned up in her body, enough to have killed her instantly.”
Mari froze where she stood. Arsenic in her salsa. Who would have done such a thing? Someone had purposefully poisoned Brandy Davos. And they had used Mari's food to do it.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” Officer Penny, the detective's assistant, replied. She ate chicken burritos smothered in green chili sauce. “It seemed clear from the moment Brandy collapsed that foul play was involved. Heat stroke was certainly possible, but Brandy was stationed in a cool place, and had kept herself well-hydrated.”
“And nine times out of ten,” another officer added, “when a person drops dead after taking a bite of food, the food is to blame.”
Detective Price nodded soberly. “Once word gets out, this is going to have a devastating effect on the town. Chile Fest has already been postponed until next week, and there’s talk of ending it completely. And given that, a lot of crime in this town seem to involve local restaurants—”
“One in particular,” the officer interrupted.
"Yes," Detective Price agreed. "It’s only a matter of time until this place stops attracting tourists altogether.”
***
After the lunch rush, Mari brought a plate of Chile Rellenos with rice and beans into her dad’s office.
“Thank you,” Mr. Ramirez said, peeling back the warm tin foil with a white plastic fork. “I suppose you’ve heard the bad news?”
“There’s been so much bad news lately,” Mari answered, “you could be referring to any number of things.”
“The police believe Brandy Davos was murdered,” her father said. “She seems to have been eating some of our food just before she died.” Mari froze briefly, trying not to look as apprehensive as she felt. “I’m not going to chastise you for entering that competition without my knowledge. What’s done is done. But now we have to face the consequences.”
“I know.” Mari bowed her head, not knowing what else to say. Her father's unexpected kindness made her want to apologize, but she knew it was unnecessary.
“Besides, I know you’re not entirely to blame for every terrible thing that goes on around here,” he went on. “For example, I just learned from Mateo that the Lucky Noodle has been spreading nasty rumors. As you know, this is not the first time this has happened. Most likely Brandy’s death just gave them an excuse to do what they wanted to do in the first place.”
“What is the rumor?” Mari asked.
“Some made up a story about our chicken,” Mr. Ramirez said wearily. “Mr. Chun says our meats are so full of chemicals that Brandy Davos wasn't poisoned at all. She had a bad reaction to the chemicals in our mutant foods. He's been telling people we buy five-legged chickens and other weird crap.”
“That’s hilarious,” Mari responded. She cleared her throat. “But terrible. When is Mr. Chun going to give us a break? I mean, five-legged chickens? Surely, our customers don't believe that.”
Her dad nodded. “That’s not the best of it. Mr. Chun says we don’t use real beef in any of our dishes. He says Jia Chun personally witnessed you buying horse meat.”
“I don’t know what she is talking about," Mari responded. She told her dad about her visit to the Chile Fest a few nights ago, and how she had stumbled on Bubba Jones forking over money to the driver of a nondescript white van. Not wanting to accuse him of murder without solid evidence, Mari had kept her theories to herself.
"Oh yeah," José said, rolling his eyes. "I've seen that van before."
“So, at least I’m not crazy,” Mari responded. “Other people have seen this van too.”
“Other people see what they want to see.” Mr. Ramirez turned back to his accounts. “You see Bubba Jones trying to hush up a murder you think he committed. Until you figure out who did it, the world can’t go back to normal. Mr. Chun sees us buying illegal horse meat and selling it to our customers, all the while pretending it’s beef. If he succeeds in making people believe that then that would put us out of business.”
Mari didn’t like the implication that she and Mr. Chun were both bending reality to match their own agendas. At the same time, Mari had to admit that she really couldn’t make sense of the conversation she had overheard.
"Mr. Chun and I are nothing alike in this scenario," Mari clarified.
"I’m not saying that,” Mr. Ramirez went on. “Mr. Chun is horrible. He’s been trying to sabotage this restaurant from day one. He sent little boys here with squirrels hidden in their backpacks, which they set loose in the dining room. He let rats loose in our restaurant and then phoned the health inspector."
“Do you think he may have been the one who poisoned the salsa?” Mari threw the thought out there curious as to what her father would respond.
José shook his head. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Mr. Chun by competing with him for over twenty years, it’s that he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. He gets others to do his bidding. But that doesn't mean he was responsible for the death of Brandy Davos.”
“True," Mari agreed. "He was with me most of the time."
“There you go. He might've had one of his minions poison Brandy for him, but that's not likely. That's too much of a risky move for the Lucky Noodle. Murder would end him. He loves his restaurant too much."
“There's still no excuse for the things he’s said about us in the last couple of days," Mari insisted. "He’s knowingly lying about us, and the coroner’s report is only going to confirm some of those lies in the minds of the public. Expect to see a significant drop in the number of customers by the end of this week.”
“It’s already starting,” Mr. Ramirez said. “Right now we have half the number of people in the dining room that we had at this hour three days ago.”
"Yeah, and most of them are cops," Mari pointed out.
“I asked them to come in.” Mr. Ramirez grinned for once. �
�I figured if people saw the police eating here, they would think our food must still be safe.”
“I just wish there was something we could do to make Mr. Chun shut his mouth.” Mari sighed. She kneaded her hands in agitation.
“The simple truth is, if we want to stop him we’ll have to stoop to his level,” José replied with a cold look in his eye. “We'll have to spread rumors about them too. Maybe even set animals loose in their restaurant. I’m sure we could find some. I’m sure there’d be people willing to help us.”
“Dad, you know we can’t play that game,” Mari reminded him. “For one, Mr. Chun will drag us into the mud with him if he ever finds out. And also, Ramirez's are better than that. We'll survive.”
CONTINUE READING …
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