“This sure is quite a menu,” Margarita said. “I just hope I can pull it off.”
“Not to worry. I already gave Kevin instructions on how to prepare the dishes.”
I sniffed the kitchen. “I smell gumbo, but I don’t see it.”
“It’s cooking outside over an open fire. I figured it would help lure customers.”
“Great idea, Dixie.”
Margarita clicked her tongue. “Okay, creamy Cajun pasta sounds fairly easy to make, but the gumbo, jambalaya, and dirty rice with shrimp, not so much.”
“Don’t forget the spicy catfish tenders with the Cajun tartar sauce. I hope we remembered to buy mayonnaise and not that Miracle Whip you northern folks use,” Dixie said.
“If not, we can make some. Homemade is better anyway,” I said.
“You girls are doing such a great job, but I’m just worried that I won’t be able to pull this off.”
We spent the better part of an hour convincing Margarita that this would go off without a hitch. I just hoped we were right.
“The parade is starting in an hour, so you girls better shovel the SUV out.”
“Doesn’t it have four-wheel drive?”
“Sure does, but we must have gotten at least seven inches overnight. If you remember right, you drove into a snow bank when you parked yesterday.”
“Don’t you have some men who could do that?”
“A man, really? Does Louisiana Sassy really need a man to shovel for her?”
“Not at all.”
“Time is a wastin’,” Margarita said. “Besides, you girls are plenty young enough to handle the shoveling. Welcome to Michigan.”
***
Once Dixie and I were bundled up, we meandered our way out to the parking lot. The snow was so deep that it found its way inside my boot. I took a shovelful of snow and carried it over to drop at the edge of the lot. “This sure is heavier than I thought it would be. It looks so light and fluffy, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way when it’s on the shovel.”
“That’s because it’s wet,” Dixie pointed out.
I just shook my head. “I’ll just be happy when I can be back where winter is fifty degrees.”
“I hear that,” Dixie said, with a wisp of white frozen air.
I was all kinds of mad, thinking about all that I was missing back home right now. “I can’t believe I’m missing boiled crawfish.”
“Yes, and it’s the first of the season, too. But hopefully we’ll be home before Mardi Gras. Unless, of course, we’re locked in jail for a murder we didn’t commit.”
“Don’t say that, Dixie. We have plenty of leads to follow through with.”
“Like what?”
“Clayton’s boss and friends, for starters. We won’t let on that we know he was flashing cash in town, unless someone else tells us the same thing.”
“Do you believe what Daniel Adams had to say about Clayton?”
“For some reason, I do. I don’t think he wanted to tell us, though.”
“I just wonder if he knows more than he’s saying, Tammy.”
“I have to agree with you there, Dixie, but time will tell.”
We fell silent as we went back to shoveling until my fingertips and toes were numb. My back also ached like all get out. We made our way inside and into the kitchen, where there was a bustle of activity.
“You girls better get dolled up and take the chili down for the competition. It’s located down the center of town, where the awning is set up.”
“I remember.”
Dixie and I changed into skinny jeans and lacy blouses, applying makeup. Dixie about killed me with all the hairspray she used on her teased-up hair. “You’re killing the ozone layer with all that spray. You should be using a pump spray.”
Dixie gave her hair a careful pat. “I hate pumps; aerosols work much better.”
Margarita waited for us downstairs with an anxious look on her face. “Hurry and take the chili down before the parade starts.”
“Too late,” a customer near the window said.
“Not to worry. We’ll carry it down. Just give me some pot holders.”
She handed me what I requested and also the crockpot that was filled with my version of Louisiana chili. I darted past the packed sidewalk as floats being pulled by horses passed by, all painted white with matching lace cut into patterns of snowflakes. We ducked when the clowns tossed candy. As children ran to catch it, I almost tripped over them. I elbowed my way between two camouflage-dressed men and ambled across the street between a float carrying the snow queen and one carrying figure skaters.
“You can’t do that,” a lady bellowed, as we made it to the other side, but I pressed on.
I was panting heavily by the time I made it to where the chili cook-off was. “It’s too late for any more entries,” bellowed a man dressed in plaid.
“Be nice now, Milton. Margarita called me ten minutes ago and told me there was another entry.”
“So, you’re the famous Milton Pabis?” I asked. “Like, the same one who wins the chili competition every year?”
“Yes,” he said with pride.
“Well, I wouldn’t count on winning this year.”
The woman clapped her hands. “I just love healthy competition. I’m Nancy Briggs, by the way. I work at the sheriff’s department, but I’m the hostess of this event.”
Sheriff’s department, eh? We might have just run into a bit of luck. “Nice to meet you. How does this chili cook-off work? I can see all of the chili is already cooked and waiting.”
She carried my chili and placed it on the table alongside the other crockpots and plugged it in. She then placed a card in the front, identifying my pot as number twenty-two. “Now skedaddle, everyone. None of the entrants are allowed to be here. All throughout the day people will be sampling the chili and voting.” She motioned to a big box with a slot on the top.
“Do you have trouble with any sabotage?” I asked, giving Milton the evil eye.
“Actually, yes. That’s why this year I made up new rules.”
“It’s not my fault I’m a town favorite,” Milton said, as he stomped away.
“Not to worry, girls. I plan to switch the pots around so nobody will know who made what.”
“Great plan.”
“What do you think about the recent murder in town?” Dixie asked. “Do you think it will hurt the winter festival any?”
Nancy straightened her gloves. “It doesn’t look that way. It might be a good idea to keep mum about the murder.”
“We’d be happy to keep it to ourselves, but the thing is, the sheriff thinks we are responsible,” I said.
“I swear, how does Sheriff Price figure that?”
“We’re new in town.”
“The way I see it is that there are plenty of newcomers in town. Besides, it’s not really that much of a surprise to me that Clayton met his end.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, really? And why is that?”
Nancy switched around the crockpots as she said, “He was a loud mouth for one, and the way he ran around on Marilyn was just dreadful. If he were my husband, I’d have considered taking him out myself.”
“Oh.” I feigned shock. “Do you think that’s what happened? Is his wife capable of murdering the man?”
“I never said she was. I just said what I’d have thought about if he were my husband, that’s all. Marilyn is on the mousy side. Plus, Clayton was killed with an arrow, and from my recollection, Marilyn doesn’t know how to shoot a bow.”
“How well do you know her?”
“Just saw her in passing, really. Poor dear didn’t look very happy, but most of the town knew first-hand how her husband was gallivanting around town behind her back.”
“Do you think she knew about that?”
“It’s a small town, dear. I don’t see how she couldn’t have known.”
“I see. Do you know anyone who is friends with Marilyn?”
“Roxie Roxx. She’s a
teacher. You might be able to find her selling hot chocolate near the ice sculpting.”
I thanked Nancy, then Dixie and I left just as the last of the parade made a turn into a cleared lot. I didn’t make it twenty feet before I spotted Milton hiding behind a tree behind the chili cook off.
“What on earth is the fool doing?” I asked.
“He really wants to win that chili cook off bad.”
“I’ll be damned if I let that man win by default.”
I pursued Milton and found him chatting with Nancy. It took a few minutes before their voices could be heard. “Now, Milton, I told you already I can’t help you win again this year. It’s going to be fair and square.”
“You say that now, but what if I were to tell the sheriff you were supplying information to those girls about Clayton’s death? What then?”
“I didn’t tell them anything of much use, so don’t worry.”
“What should I have to worry about?” he spat, as he walked away.
“What was that about?” Dixie asked in a whisper.
I led the way back down the street. “I’m not sure, but it almost sounded like Nancy was hiding something.”
“I have the feeling like this whole town might be hiding something. Remember how Daniel seemed to be holding back?”
“He told us Clayton was flashing cash around town. It has to mean something. Hopefully, we’ll find someone else who can tell us the same thing.”
“Like the cash hidden in his closet didn’t speak volumes to you?”
“Perhaps, but I think we should check out Marilyn’s friend Roxie. I’d sure like to know more about Marilyn than what we know already, like has she ever gone hunting?
“So, you don’t believe what Nancy said about Marilyn not knowing how to shoot a bow?”
“I’m not ready to be so willingly led to form any opinion just yet.”
I made my way to the ice sculptures, where men and women on ladders chipped away with ice picks and hammers, creating a spray of ice shards and dust into the air like snow. I smiled when I noticed a child of about five hitting an ice block with a plastic shovel. Obviously, this was a family activity.
I breathed deeply, catching the fragrance of hot cocoa and coffee with a hint of cinnamon. I stood in the line at the wooden stand where they were selling hot cocoa.
“How are we going to find Roxie?” Dixie asked. “If she’s manning the counter, we won’t be able to speak with her much.”
“Leave it to me.”
When it was our turn, I placed our order with the girl at the counter, who swept back a strand of her black hair and went to make our drinks. As she mixed the water into the chocolate power, I asked, “Do you know where we can find Roxie Roxx?”
She stopped stirring and glanced up. “What do you want with Roxie?”
“I need to ask her a few questions. I heard she was a friend of Marilyn Percy.”
She finished stirring, then added a liberal amount of whipped cream. “I can’t talk here, but if you give me a half hour, I’ll meet you in the warming tent.”
I exchanged the money for the hot cocoa and left after handing Dixie her cup. As we headed over toward the warming tent, I said, “Roxie hardly looked old enough to be a teacher.”
“Did you see all the makeup she wore?”
“Yes, I noticed. Her name sounds like a stripper.”
“I agree, but I doubt she’d moonlight as one in a small town such as this.”
Chapter Six
We wandered into the warming tent and positioned ourselves near the doorway so we would see when Roxie came in. There were tables along the walls of the rectangle tent, with vendors hocking goods, including outdoor winter supplies such as gloves and hats. They even had furry hats that resembled bears and wolves with long scarves; these were meant to appeal to the children, I guessed, but teenagers were wearing them, too. My ears were practically ringing from the Country music that was blaring.
I bought pairs of dark sunglasses for Dixie and me. When I handed the sunglasses to Dixie, she said, “Thank God. I don’t think I could take that glare from the sun another minute. I never thought I’d say this, but I didn’t expect the sun to bother me so far north.”
I donned the glasses and said, “I think it’s the magnification off the snow. My eyes have been on fire since we left the restaurant today.”
“Of course, it might be that you’re basically a vampire.”
“That’s so not the case, but I must admit that I’m a night owl.”
“That’s putting it mildly. You spend all your time on Facebook, doing what I don’t even want to know.”
“Besides playing Candy Crush, you mean?” I asked with a sly smile.
“I know it hasn’t been easy since you lost your job, but things will get better soon.”
She had to remind me why we came up here in the beginning, besides wanting to kick me some northern rear end. I had lost my job at the restaurant back home, mainly on account of the owner’s son, Phil McMurphy. He had hand issues—like, he didn’t know enough to keep them to himself. The owner fired me when I broke ol’ Phil’s big fat nose. I had tried to avoid the jerk, but he had other ideas. When he cornered me in the cooler, I socked him, but good. It was self defense, but his dad didn’t see it that way. That’s why I needed this prize money from the competition to keep a roof over my head. Luckily, Dixie had helped me out to finance the trip. I had some money, but not nearly enough to float me for another year.
Dixie waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Sassy. Roxie is here.”
I positioned the sunglasses on my head as I greeted Roxie. “Thanks for meeting us,”
I said.
Roxie didn’t walk in more than a few steps before backing up. “Let’s go someplace else to talk.”
We followed Roxie out to a supply shed located next to a gift shop. She opened the door and Dixie walked inside, encouraging us to follow with a wave of her hand. I hesitated for a moment, but Dixie shrugged and walked inside. I still didn’t move, though, not until Dixie shot me a look. Oh, what the hell, I thought as I walked inside. Roxie shut the shed door and dropped down to sit on an overturned milk crate.
“Is there a reason we can’t talk out there?” I asked.
“People like to talk in small towns. I’d rather not let anyone know my business.”
Yeah, right, like they won’t gossip about her talking to us in a closed shed. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re here to ask me about Marilyn Percy, right?”
I kicked the floor of the shed, before saying, “Folks in this town are sure mysterious.”
“The less people know about you here, the better it is for you.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Roxie ignored my question and said, “Marilyn’s husband was a brute. Not only has he beaten her, but he refuses to give her any money.”
“She told us he gave her fifty dollars a week.”
“That’s no kind of money,” Dixie gasped. “Have you ever seen Clayton abuse his wife?”
“She’s showed me some bruises before.”
“And did she tell you what happened?”
“They had an argument about his extramarital affairs.”
“Oh, so she did know about his wandering ways?”
“It would be hard not to, in this town. It’s all folks in town talk about. Well, that and—”
“What are you not telling us?” I asked in exasperation.
“Clayton began spending money like he was printing it.”
“Where would he have to spend money around here? It looks like a run of the mill small town. I can’t imagine there is even anywhere he could be dropping enough money for it to be noticed.”
“He has a sports car parked in the garage of Hank’s Tool and Die,” Roxie volunteered. “There is also a strip club in town. From the way the girls there talk, he spent plenty on lap dances. He even bought one of the strippers a diamond necklace.”
The
gears in my head started to turn. “Does this stripper have a name, like Roxie, perhaps?”
She gasped. “I’m not a stripper. I-I’m a teacher. I teach first grade.”
Dixie tugged on my coat. “Don’t let her get to you. Tammy is just trying to be funny. We sure could use the name of the stripper, so we can check out your story.”
“Cindy. She might be working tonight at Hank’s Hotspot.”
“Hank’s Hotspot is a strip club?” I asked, surprised. “I thought it was a restaurant.”
“That what most folks think. They run it like a regular restaurant during the day and open the back room after six.”
“Is there anything else you could tell us about Marilyn? Like, why didn’t she just leave her husband if he treated her that badly?”
“She didn’t have any options. Her sister lives in Iowa, but she has her hands full with seven children. Clayton made enough money at Hank’s Tool and Die to support them and Marilyn didn’t have to work.”
“That’s what happens when you count on a man for everything. There is just no way I’d ever do that. When you don’t have a job or work, you’re dependent on a man for everything. Even if the man makes enough money to support the family, you just never know if he’s going to up and leave one day. It sounds like Marilyn would have been better off if he had left for good.”
“He left for good now,” Dixie said with a chuckle.
“Has Marilyn ever gone hunting?”
“Not likely. It’s hard enough to get that woman out of the house, little alone traipsing through the woods.”
“Does she know how to shoot a bow?”
“I can’t see Marilyn touching a bow. I’m sure she doesn’t know how to shoot one.”
“So, you’re not positive then?”
“I’m quite positive she’d never try. She’s an animal lover and hated it when Clayton went hunting. She really hated being left alone so much.”
“If he was as abusive as you say, you’d have thought that Marilyn would have preferred it.”
Roxie glanced down at her watch. “I really should be getting back to the hot cocoa stand.”
“Be my guest.”
Roxie stood, stretching her limbs for a moment, then whipped open the shed door and disappeared between the pine trees bordering the yard of the gift shop.
1 Target of Death Page 6
