Murder and Marinade: Witches of Keyhole Lake Mysteries Book 5

by Tegan Maher

  By the time he got back, I was ready for the caffeine, then, as predicted, folks started pouring in looking for Sunday bargains. Three times, I had people offer me a hundred bucks for a piece I had five hundred on, then they had the nerve to act like they were doing me a favor.

  Hunter had gone to see if there was any news with Bobbie Sue and Earl when my phone dinged with an incoming text—it was Shelby.

  S: Came home to change clothes and Mayhem let the geldings out. Ranger's missing.

  N: Missing? Probably out in the back pasture.

  S: Yeah, cuz I didn't check there. Or everywhere else. He's not on the property. Hoof prints to end of drive, then nothing.

  Mayhem was Gabi's horse, and though he had a ton of personality and was great, he was also a pain in the ass. His skill as an escape artist made Houdini look like an amateur, especially considering he had no thumbs.

  I took a deep breath. Ranger was our problem child. He was a rescue that we'd taken in a year and a half before and was just starting to come around. When we got him, you could see every bone in his body, and his feet were so overgrown he could barely walk. He was also terrified of people.

  It took us almost a year to get him healthy and even though he was relatively young, he had some serious phobias. For one, he was tough to catch. You'd get within five feet of him and he'd run in the other direction. Saddles, touching his head or face, and picking up his feet were all points of terror for him, but he had a half-dozen smaller quirks to go along with them that we hadn't managed to help him through yet.

  Of all the horses that could have gone on walkabout, it was horrible luck that it was him. My palms were sweating just thinking about him being loose.

  His fears could get him into all kinds of trouble—stuck in fences, shying sideways into a ditch and breaking a leg—my mind spun with worry and my first instinct was to rush home. However, that wasn't possible. I still had to wait for the guy to come pick up those stupid bar chairs.

  If only I'd taken Anna Mae up on her offer, then I wouldn't be in such a pickle.

  N: I'm stuck here waiting on some guy to pick up stuff he already paid for. He said today or tomorrow.

  S: It's not like you could do anything we're not already doing. Cody and I are gonna split up, and Will's gonna help, too.

  N: Keep me posted and lemme know the minute you find him

  S: OK

  I checked the time on my phone—it wasn't even noon yet. Looking up and down the aisle like that would make the man magically appear—no pun intended—I puffed out my cheeks and looked for something to keep me busy. Fortunately, several more customers flitted through the tent, and kept me occupied for the better part of an hour, but I checked my phone every ten minutes to make sure I hadn't missed a text.

  Hunter came back just as I was finishing up with a customer who'd bought the one of the last big pieces I had. I was down to just a couple big pieces, Anna Mae's stuff, and my smaller accent pieces. I gave him the rundown on what was going on at the farm, and he frowned.

  "Surely he'll come back when it's time to eat," he said in an attempt to talk me off the ledge.

  I shook my head. "Maybe in the winter, but right now he's got all the grass in the world to gorge himself on."

  Thinking of all the nooks and crannies he could be hiding in, I cringed. It had been years since we'd had a problem like this, and even then, it had been one of our rock-steady horses that had ended up in the neighbor's pasture.

  Hunter wrapped his arms around me. "He's gonna be fine. I'm sure he's just grazing the time away in one of the back pastures. You know how easily he spooks. If he heard them coming through the woods, he probably ran the other way long before the saw him.

  Puffing up my cheeks, I blew out a breath. He was probably right, but I was kicking myself for not investing more time in him.

  "C'mon," he said, "I brought you something to eat. Hopefully, your guy will show up today and we can head home. I ran into the sheriff while I was up there."

  "I can't believe I didn't get the guy's information. Lesson learned there." I let him lead me to our chairs, then collapsed into one. "Did you learn anything from Sheriff Scottsdale?"

  He pinched his lips together. Not really. They got the preliminary report back from the coroner—they say the killer was at least five-eleven, with significant upper body strength. He still thinks Earl is a viable suspect, and to tell you the truth, if I were in his shoes, so would I. Still, he seems fair, and he's being thorough, so I'm not worried about him tossing him in jail without solid proof."

  "Yeah," I said, "but the contest is over after Justin competes today. They're staying for the party tomorrow, but does he expect Earl to stay here until he untangles it, or can he go home?"

  Hunter chewed his lip as he handed me a to-go container with a Philly cheese steak and fries, then set down a container of Chinese veggies and rice for Max. "If it were me, I'd probably let him go home. He's not a flight risk—shoot, he's never left the tri-county area except for competitions, and he's about turning himself inside out worrying about the restaurant."

  He lifted a shoulder. "I assured Blane I'd take responsibility, but it's up to him."

  I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I lifted the lid of the container and the smell of meaty, cheesy, goodness wafted up to me. I took a huge bite, and contemplated while I chewed.

  Chasing it down with my tea, I said, "What about the stolen food? Any idea who was behind that?"

  Hunter held up a finger as he struggled to swallow a quarter of his sub whole. "Now there is a problem we're making progress on. Bobbie Sue tracked down a list of winners, so they know who they're dealing with. Two rookies who've never competed before."

  Crinkling my brow, I asked, "So two separate competitors, obviously, because one used Earl's recipe and one used Jimbo's. So what—they worked together to steal the meats? Is there a connection?"

  He shrugged. "That was my first question, too. So far, there's no connection between them, but we agreed that it's too big a coincidence for there not to be. They're from two different towns, though they're close to each other, but there doesn't seem to be any common factors at all. They claim they don't know each other." He polished off his sandwich and dragged a fry through his ketchup.

  I rubbed my chin. "Off topic a little, but I wonder what it is that Earl uses to make his rubs and sauces so unique."

  "It's probably not one thing, but how he pairs the ingredients together."

  Max, who'd been quiet while he ate, agreed. "I've watched him this weekend, and at cookouts, and he does something else I find odd. He uses different rubs during the cooking process."

  "What do you mean?" Hunter asked. "So do I. I season it when I put it on the grill, then add more as I go."

  Max shook his head, grains of rice falling off his muzzle as he did so. He twisted his upper lip, running his tongue over his big yellow teeth, dislodging even more rice and a chunk of water chestnut. I wrinkled my nose.

  "No," he said, "I mean he has an order that he uses. An initial seasoning, then he sauces it, and adds another layer of different seasonings."

  "Oh," I said. "When he means layers of flavor, you mean he's being literal."

  "Quite," Max said as he tried to root a piece of broccoli away from an onion with his upper lip. I flicked a finger toward his food, clearing the onions out, because the last thing I needed was for him to get onion bubble guts. The donkey could clear a room just from a few slices.

  "Sorry, Hunter said. "I forgot to tell them to nix the onions."

  Max tilted his head toward me. "She's the one who complains when the natural result occurs, though I do have to say they give me a bit of indigestion."

  I snorted. "Yeah, your indigestion is the least of the problems. Warping the aluminum inside the trailer is what I worry about."

  We'd just finished eating when Justin came barreling around the corner, sweaty and out of breath. "Y'all need to come quick. Bobbie Sue done went and popped some girl in the n
ose!"

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  IT ONLY TOOK US A MINUTE to run to their food truck, but by the time we got there, I could barely breathe. Good genetics gave me a fast metabolism, but I still had a little junk in the trunk and wasn't big on sweating for the fun of it.

  Bobbie Sue was nose to nose with the sheriff himself, and I rushed forward.

  "I ain't gonna let her talk about Earl like that, 'specially without proof," she growled, stretching her neck to view the blonde woman behind him.

  I recognized her as the girl who'd found the body—the screamer. I didn't remember much about her from that day, and right then, she had a wad of blood-spotted napkins shoved against her nose. All I could see was a pair of narrowed brown eyes hovering beneath orangish blonde hair, glowering at Bobbie Sue.

  "What's going on here?" I asked.

  Ms. Busted Nose pointed a chubby finger with long, fake nails at Bobbie Sue. "She bunched be in da dose for doe reasond." I shook my head, but I'd socked Olivia—my arch enemy since grade school—in the schnoz enough that I spoke broken nose.

  "What'd you do to her to deserve it?" Bobbie Sue didn't just throw punches for no good reason. As a matter of fact, I could only remember her doing it one other time—she laid a girl out who was sticking up for her bully of a kid, then called Bobbie Sue a nosy bitch for getting in the middle of it.

  The woman pulled the napkins away from her nose. She smirked at me, and I could see the meanness in her eyes, but it was quick. Before I could even register it, her expression turned to one of a wounded lamb and she batted her eyes several times, threatening waterworks.

  "I didn't do anything. I was just walkin' by, and she said it was my fault her horrible beast of a husband was suspected of killing Judge Moore!"

  "She did not," barked Bobbie Sue. "She called Earl a murderer and said he was gonna get what was comin' to him."

  Sheriff Scottsdale looked back and forth between the two women, trying to decide who to believe. "I don't know what started it—"

  "I do," I said, shaking off Hunter's attempt to restrain me. "Bobbie Sue just told you. In case you haven't noticed in your first couple interactions with her, she calls it as she sees it. She's no liar. If she says that's what happened, then that's what happened."

  Busted Nose started to protest, but the sheriff held up his hand. "It doesn't matter what was said, Ms. Baker. You can't just go around throwin' punches."

  Bobbie Sue crossed her arms. "Oh, but she can go around callin' good folks murderers?"

  Sheriff Scottsdale heaved a sigh. "No, but bein' a loudmouth isn't against the law."

  The woman hmphed in victory, but he glared and face-palmed her. "On the flip side, if you shoot your mouth off, you better be ready to get popped in it. Ms. Baker, do you think you can control yourself from here on out?"

  Bobbie Sue scowled but Earl stepped up. "Yes, she can," he said, lowering his brows and giving her a squeeze around the shoulders that was more prompting than comforting. "Can't you darlin'?"

  Narrowing her eyes for a moment at the woman, she said, "I reckon I can. Long as she stays away from me. She keeps—"

  Earl cleared his throat and glowered at her, and she snapped her mouth shut. The sheriff turned to the blonde. "You're going to stay away from the Bakers. They have official business here. You do not. Steer clear. Consider this sorta an informal, verbal restraining order. Cause any more problems, and I'll arrest you for being a public nuisance."

  Bobbie Sue stared at the woman, her eyes triumphant, until the sheriff turned to her. "And the same goes for you. You got some places you have to go for the competition. Otherwise, if you see her, steer clear. And the fine for simple battery in this county is two hundred bucks. If you wanna write the check to pay your fine now, I'll do the paperwork when I get back rather than making you come down to the courthouse."

  "Two hundred bucks!" she said, outraged. "For two hundred bucks, I—"

  Earl stepped in front of her, eyebrows pulled down. "For two hundred bucks, she counts herself lucky to be outta jail," he finished for her. "Gimme a minute to get the checkbook."

  I went to stand beside her while he went inside, just in case she decided to get her two hundred dollars' worth. That seemed a little high for just a bloody nose, so I couldn't blame her, but it was what it was. I was just thankful that we lived in Podunk USA, where paying a fine was still an option to sitting in jail waiting for days to get a court date.

  He didn't have to do that, and I gave him a nod of thanks.

  "Don't make me regret it," he told me.

  Blondie wasn't pleased with the turn of events at all, but when she opened her mouth to say something else, the sheriff shut her up with a glance. "You're on thin ice, too, Ms. Babcock. As a matter of fact, I have some questions for you."

  Earl came back, check in hand, and held it out the sheriff. Glancing down at it, he gave one sharp nod and turned back to Bobbie Sue. "I mean it. Pretend she's the plague. Same to you," he told Busted Nose. She shot him a withering look, but teetered away on leopard-print heels so high they defied physics. I'm no fashionista, but between the shoes and the blinding gold lycra straining at the seams across her backside, I had to wonder if the woman owned a mirror.

  With another warning glance, Sheriff Scottsdale turned on his heel and walked away.

  "And stay out," Bobbie Sue muttered under her breath, watching the Babcock woman wobble away. "Jigglin' worse'n two possoms battlin' it out inside a gunny sack."

  Once they were gone, I turned to her. "What the hell?" I asked.

  She narrowed her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. "Don't you sass me like that, young lady. She come over here runnin' her trap about Earl bein' a murderer."

  "And why would she say that?"

  "Cause she happened to be walkin' by when the sheriff was talkin' to us earlier. Somebody says they saw Earl over in that direction a couple minutes before somebody stuck that fork in Moore."

  "But he wasn't. He was right here."

  She shook her head. "No, he wasn't. Remember, he was at the great hall usin' the little boys' room."

  I closed my eyes, fearing the worst. "I'd forgot about that. So what did the sheriff say?"

  Earl, who'd been quiet, said, "I ain't the onlyiest one who coulda been there, so right now I'm just "a person of interest." Plus I was talkin' to Old Man Adkins in the john, so I have a sort-of alibi."

  I arched a brow and he frowned at me.

  "I mean, I was talkin' to him when I was washin' my hands. He was comin' as I was goin'. Weren't like we were havin' no gab session."

  "So that clears you?" I asked, reaching around Bobbie Sue to grab a mint out of a plastic container she had sitting out.

  He shook his head while he was loading more wood into the grill. They were still doin' a heck of a business outta the truck. "It don't clear me, exactly, but puts me back far enough in the line that I don't stand out any more than four or five other people do."

  Hunter nodded. "Scottsdale can't share a lot with me for obvious reasons, but he did say Earl wasn't the only suspect."

  "Well, then," Bobbie Sue said, "We'll just have to figure out who did do it, so's we can put it behind us."

  Yeah, if only.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SINCE THERE WAS NOTHING else to do, I headed back to my tent. When I got there, a mirrored sconce I'd made out of an old horse collar was on the ground right at the perimeter of the tent, and I smiled.

  It took Hunter a minute to figure out what had happened, but he grinned when he did. "If you were allowed to market that magic, you'd make a mint in the anti-theft business."

  Smiling, I picked up the sconce, glad that I'd left the sticky-fingers charm up on the tent that morning. Unlike most of my pieces, I'd paid a pretty penny for the collar because it was in near mint condition and the profit margin on it was slim. I shook my head as I hung it back on the peg board. Some people.

  I texted Shelby to see if they'd found Ranger, and they hadn't. She was beside h
erself, but had to get back to Bobbie Sue's because it was Sunday, and she had to waitress as well as manage. Gabi was at the show, but Will and Cody were gonna keep looking. Will'd put some calls into the neighboring farms but they hadn't seen him.

  Hunter went into the trailer to watch NASCAR, since he'd seen about everything on the grounds two or three times already. Justin wasn't set to compete until three, so we had some time to burn.

  Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose. One more worry to add to the pile. A few more customers trickled in, but my mind kept wandering. I'd played it off as no big deal, but the whole time thing bothered me. I didn't particularly want to wait ’til I got home to talk about it, but I didn't have much choice. Besides, there were bigger fish to fry.

  Addy popped in right as an ample woman wearing a floral polyester dress held up one of Anna Mae's period gowns. It looked like it was probably circa late 1800s, and like most dresses from that period, was made for a tiny woman. There was no way I could have worn it even had I been inclined to shoehorn myself in with a corset—which I wasn't.

  She snapped her fingers at me even though I was talking to another customer about one of my clocks. "Do you have this in another size?"

  I looked at her, annoyed. Surely she wasn't serious. ""No, ma'am, I don't think we do. I'll be right with you."

  "I'm in a hurry and don't have time to dawdle. Check and see," she said as if she were in Target. She looked down her nose at me when I didn't hop to. "Well don't just stand there."

  The customer I was with, a friendly lady whose husband collected old signs, roller her eyes and smiled. "Go ahead. I'll look around."

  I became more irritated at the insufferable old bat just because the sign lady was being so nice about it.

  "Do you have a fitting room?" the southern-belle wannabe asked, looking around.

  Addy cracked up. "Yes, please do show her to the back of the horse trailer, where she can split the seams clear outta that gown."

  She mimicked the woman, holding an invisible dress in front of her and making a fish face. "Chop, chop, dahling," she said, clapping her hands. "I have a ball to get to right after tea and crumpets, and my pumpkin awaits." She twirled around in the air like she was waltzing with an invisible prince.