Revenge of the Chili Queens (20 page)

This I did not know, but believe me, the thoughts twirled through my head until later that afternoon when, out of the Chick costume, I walked by the whitewashed fairgrounds building with the word
Security
written in red letters on the
side of it. Until I talked to Montgomery, I couldn’t even begin to try to figure out what he was up to, and with that in mind, I made a vow to corner him at that night’s fund-raiser. He was bound to be there. Maybe if I made like a beauty queen, he’d actually give me the time of day!

For reasons I can’t explain, this struck me as especially funny, and that would explain why Nick thought I was smiling at him when he walked out of the security builidng.

“Promised I’d get Ruth Ann a cotton candy,” I said, showing off the five-dollar bill Ruth had given me to pay and pointing with it in the direction of the carnival midway that stood between the Showdown on one side of the fairgrounds and the rodeo on the other. “You want some?”

He made a face and stepped closer. “You okay?” he asked. “I mean, after last night and having to climb down the balcony to get out of Dom’s apartment?”

“Piece of cake!” I waved away his concern, but speaking of concerns . . .

“You know, Nick . . .” Something had been bothering me, and I knew I couldn’t let it go. Not until I got it straight with him. “About the murder . . .”

He puffed out a breath. “Now what? You think I killed Dom and I was also the person who walked in on us at the apartment? I’m good, Maxie, but I’m not good enough to be two people. There’s no way I’m the one who was watching us when we ran last night.”

“You saw him, too, huh?” I was wearing black shorts and a Texas Jack Pierce T-shirt in habanero red, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Obviously it wasn’t you, because you were with me. But I keep thinking about the
night of the murder. Dom must have been killed soon after the fund-raiser ended that night. We need to get everyone’s timeline straight. Like, for instance, where were you?”

His eyebrows rose just enough to make it loud and clear that my question was as unexpected as it was nervy. “Are you asking me if I have an alibi?”

“I’ve already asked you if you have an alibi. You dodged the question. That means I have to ask it again. Do you?”

“Do you?”

“I don’t need an alibi. I’m not the one who was partners with a murdered guy who stole my wife.”

He grumbled a word he shouldn’t have used in public. But then, I didn’t hold that against him, since I used the word plenty myself.

“You’re impossible.” Nick turned away.

“And you’re ignoring my question.” I stepped in front of him. “Where were you when Dom was killed?”

“I was—” He clamped his mouth shut for a moment before he muttered, “I was busy.”

“Busy killing Dom?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what were you busy doing?”

“Busy being busy, all right? That’s what I was doing.”

And before I could tell him that it wasn’t nearly the explanation I needed, Nick stalked away.

“Busy being busy,” I grumbled and spun the other way; the five-dollar bill Ruth gave me for her cotton candy—and one for myself, too, she told me, if I wanted it—was in my palm, and I squeezed it so hard, I swear Abraham Lincoln had tears in his eyes.

I was still grumbling when I got over near the midway and found myself at the back of a crowd of folks watching a juggling act. My mind was already plenty mixed up; the last thing I needed to see was juggling. I scooted around the crowd, darted between the Ferris wheel and a shooting gallery where folks could win giant teddy bears, and ducked behind the vendors who sold everything from corn dogs on a stick to ice cream cones that wouldn’t last two minutes in the afternoon heat, sniffing the air and hoping the aroma of cotton candy would let me know when I was at the right spot.

It was a smart move; there was no one back there among the wires and whirring generators, and I could move far quicker than I could out in the crowd.

And it was a dumb move.

Because when someone came up behind me and threw a pillowcase over my head, there was no one there to see.

Just like there was no one around when that same someone zapped me with a stun gun and I dropped to the ground.

•   •   •

I have no idea how long I was out. A minute or two? Longer? I only know that when I opened my eyes again, the world in front of me tipped and whirled. I was still down in the dirt, but I couldn’t hear the generators anymore. My head felt like it had been filled with those fluffy cotton balls that Sylvia used to remove her makeup every night. Since the pillow case was no longer over my head, I dared to look around.

“No generators.” My voice sounded as if it came from a million miles away. It was as heavy as my eyelids, my words as slurred as if I’d guzzled a dozen margaritas.

Margaritas!

My mouth felt as if it was filled with sand, and I ran my dry tongue over even drier lips and checked out the area.

It was no wonder I couldn’t hear the generators; I wasn’t where I’d been when I was waylaid. I was in some sort of fenced enclosure that was maybe twenty feet wide and just as long, and I was all alone. The ground beneath me was gritty, and somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of my head, I knew I should get up or I’d end up covered with dirt. Too bad I didn’t have the energy to stand, or even to drag myself over to the tall fence where I could prop myself until I figured out what was going on. Instead, I tried to make sense of what had happened and stared at the sort of pen in front of me. There was a gate in the center of it, and even as I watched, something moved behind it.

Something big.

Warning bells went off inside my head. At least I think they did. I was too woozy to listen, and too punch-drunk to care.

That is, until that gate popped open and the ground shook. Instinctively, I got to my knees. I was still trying to steady myself when a two-thousand-pound brown rodeo bull emerged from the shadows, dipped its head, and charged.

CHAPTER 14

As if it were all happening in slow motion, I watched that gigantic bull rumble closer, its dark, beady eyes on me. He lowered his enormous head and came straight at me.

I was paralyzed, and it wasn’t until I was looking right into those big brown eyes and felt the heat of his breath that something kick-started me into action.

I dropped and rolled and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to feel those hooves and all that muscle trample me like I was a rag doll.

Lucky for me my timing was right and my roll was perfect. I skidded to a stop in the dust just as the bull ran by, kicking up a storm of dirt a foot or so away from me. Realizing how lucky I was and how little time I had until I’d have to try my luck again, I scrambled to my knees,
pulled myself to my feet, and lurched over to that gate that the bull had come out of.

It was closed. And locked.

From the other side.

“Hey!” I jiggled the gate and called out, and even to my own ears, my words sounded like they came from inside a thick coating of Bubble Wrap. “Hey!” I joggled the gate again, even though it hardly moved the first time, and I guess I would have gone right on trying to open it if I didn’t feel the ground tremble and hear that bull grunt right before it headed back in my direction.

“Nice bull! Good bull!” My words bumped along with my breath when I zigzagged around him and over to the far side of the pen. The wooden fence around the enclosure was taller than me, and because the slats were so close together, it was impossible to see through. Was there someone nearby on the other side? Someone who could get me out of there?

“Help!” I called out just in case there was anyone around. “I’m in here. Help!”

“Maxie?”

I was so relieved to hear the voice call out my name from the other side of the fence, I nearly cried. As it was, I didn’t exactly have the time, since that bull made another charge at me and I took off like a shot to the other side of the enclosure.

“I’m in here!” I yelled, though with all the noise of thundering hooves and bellowing bull, I wasn’t sure anyone could hear me. I pounded on the wooden fence with my fists and ended up with a splinter. “Help!”

“Maxie?”

Across the enclosure, something appeared just above the top of the fence, then disappeared again.

“Is that you?” the voice asked. “What are you doing in there?”

Again, the something appeared, then vanished, and I was left with a quick impression: hair the color of brandy. Collar of a white shirt. Knot of a killer (bad choice of words) blue tie. Like his eyes.

“Nick!” This time, I did allow myself the luxury of a few tears, and hey, who could blame me? Right before I took off again to get away from the frenzied bull, I caught another glimpse of Nick just as he jumped to try and see over the wooden enclosure.

“Is there a bull in there? Maxie, why are you messing around with a rodeo bull? Don’t you know that’s dangerous?”

I pressed my back to the enclosure and imagined that where I stood, Nick must be right on the other side of the fence. Good, then he wouldn’t have an excuse not to hear me when I screamed, “Are you crazy? You think I’m in here because I want to be here? Get me out of here, Nick! This bull, he’s—”

He’s what, I didn’t have the chance to say, because the bull charged again, I took off running again, and I was too freakin’ scared to get another word out of my mouth.

This time, I ran toward the gate where the bull had come in. When I saw Nick on the other side of it, I would have sighed with relief if I had any breath left.

“Get me out of here!”

Both hands wrapped around the metal gate, he wiggled
it and jiggled it just like I had. “Well, if there was a key, it isn’t here now. This gate is locked.”

“Really? Gosh, I never thought to check that.”

He gave me a sour look which I was fully justified in returning in equal tart measure.

“Here’s what we’re going to do . . .” Nick eyed the bull, the height of the gate (well above both our heads), and me. “I’m going to start climbing from this side. You’re going to start climbing from that side. When I get to the top, I can reach over and help you to the other side. Got that?”

I eyed the gate. The whole thing was made of chain link, like fencing, and every eight inches or so, a heavy metal bar went side to side across it. It looked plenty sturdy. No doubt it had to be to contain the beast. I looked over my shoulder and saw that even now, he was eyeing me up and snorting.

“Maxie! Maxie!”

When Nick called out to me, I swung around from the bull back to the gate.

“That’s better.” His voice was firm and encouraging. His expression was as hard as stone. I wondered if he was trying to convince me—or himself—that it was actually possible to get me out of that enclosure in one piece.

“Don’t worry about the bull,” Nick instructed. “Just keep your eyes on me. Okay, see what I’m doing?” He started up his side of the fence, bracing first one foot, then the other, on those heavy metal crossbars. They were narrow and he was wearing dress shoes. His foot slipped, and he slammed against the gate, righted himself, and started the climb again.

“I’m going all the way to the top,” he said, and he made his way up another couple feet. “And you’re going to do the same thing. And when you get close enough, I’m going to grab your hands and help you the rest of the way. You got that?”

I did, and it was a mighty fine plan. Or at least it would have been if not for the fact that the bull made another charge. I climbed as fast as I could, and I had sneakers on, so my footing was better than Nick’s. But with that bull coming at me full speed with murder in its beefy heart, I knew I wasn’t fast enough. I panicked. Okay, I admit it. I lost my cool and then my footing and then my nerve, and even though I wasn’t quite close enough for either of us to be balanced, I grabbed hold of both Nick’s hands before he had a chance to brace himself.

The bull did a U-turn right at my heels, and, feeling his wet breath on the back of my legs, I screamed.

What with all the scrambling and the squealing and with me holding on to him for dear life, Nick lost his balance. He tumbled and hit the dirt on my side of the gate at the same time I let go and slithered to the ground beside him.

“Are you all right?” I asked him.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he jumped to his feet and snatched me up just as the bull got over to the other side of the pen, turned, and pawed the ground, ready to make another run at us.

Nick pressed me toward the fence. “Climb!”

“But Nick, I—”

“Climb!” He lifted me off my feet and set me up on
the second crossbar from the bottom, and I wrapped my fingers through the wire fencing.

Nick poked me in the back. “Make it fast! Because I’m going to be right behind you!”

Climb I did, and it was a good thing I spent all those hours dancing as the Chili Chick and was in good shape. When I got to the top of the gate, I raised my left leg like I was doing a high kick and swung it over the top crossbar, then pulled myself up to straddle the gate. From this altitude, that bull didn’t look so big anymore. But he still looked like he wanted to take somebody’s head off, and right about then, the nearest somebody was Nick.