Crepe Factor Read Online Free Page A

hands. “Oh, come on.”
    Babcock ignored her. He turned to Officer Bailey and said, “We need to get Brevard over here.”
    â€œReally?” Carmela said. She was suddenly very scared for Quigg, worried that he could take the fall for this.
    Thirty seconds later, Quigg was standing with them, looking none too happy. But as soon as he recognized Detective Babcock, he hastened to explain. “Hey, Babcock, you know me. I wouldn’t smack a mosquito at dawn nor dusk. I heard a rumor that Martin Lash got killed but I never had a problem with the man.”
    Then Quigg noticed Carmela watching him closely. “Look, so maybe I did have a few words with Lash earlier tonight.” He spread his hands wide and shrugged his shoulders. “I own restaurants, he writes restaurant reviews. Sometimes we don’t always see eye to eye, you know? But there was nothing physical between us. I mean, okay, he threw a bowl of gumbo at me and then went slinking off like a coward.” He pretended to wipe a blob of food from his pristine apron. “But there’s no hard feelings. Really.”
    â€œThat’s not what I hear,” Babcock said.
    Quigg leaned forward. “What do you hear?”
    â€œFor one thing, you just spilled your guts and told meplenty,” Babcock said, but in a moderate, reasonable tone of voice. “Apparently, Martin Lash wrote a review that you didn’t agree with and then the two of you had a very nasty argument.” He glanced around. “In front of several witnesses. Next thing we all know, Martin Lash turns up dead.”
    â€œHe’s good,” Ava muttered.
    â€œShh,” Carmela hissed. Babcock
was
good. And Quigg wasn’t doing much to help his own case.
    â€œYou want to explain your argument?” Babcock asked. “Elaborate on what happened?”
    Quigg glowered at him. “Explain why some hack writer insulted
me
? Are you serious? Martin Lash probably insulted every food vendor here. Why don’t you go talk to them?”
    â€œI already did,” Babcock said. “But the evidence keeps circling back to you.”
    â€œEvidence?” Quigg shouted. “There is no evidence.”
    â€œWe have several eyewitnesses,” Babcock said.
    â€œMaybe of the argument,” Carmela suddenly interjected. “But not of the murder. Ava and I were there. We didn’t see anybody else.”
    â€œAnd just why are you here again?” Babcock asked Carmela.
    â€œTo have fun?” she said in a small voice, just as the shiny black crime scene van bumped across the grass toward Martin Lash’s dead body.
    â€œOf course,” Babcock said. He turned back to Quigg Brevard. “We’re going to need you to come in and give us a statement. Expect to be with us for a while because I’m guessing that more than words passed between you and Lash . . .”
    Quigg suddenly bristled.
    Babcock continued on. “And I do want to hear the entire story.”
    â€œSure. Whatever,” Quigg said.
    â€œAs for you,” Babcock said, turning to Carmela. “We need to have a very serious talk as well.”
    â€œSure,” Carmela said.
Gulp.
    *   *   *
    It took another hour for Carmela and Ava to finally get out of there, and by that time they were so jacked up they needed something to help them relax.
    â€œA glass of wine,” Carmela said as she stuck her key in the door. Her garden apartment was located just across a quaint little courtyard from Juju Voodoo, Ava’s voodoo shop. Ava lived upstairs in a teeny-tiny apartment that was painted Pepto pink with lots of leopard-print design touches.
    â€œSounds perfect,” Ava said.
    But as the door opened, two wiggling, waggling dogs flung themselves at the two women.
    â€œDown, babies, down,” Carmela pleaded. But Boo, her fawn-colored Shar-Pei, was already smothering her with kisses. And Poobah, a spotted rescue