Death by Devil's Breath Read Online Free

bit of the aroma that wafted out of the auditorium at the far end of the “street” between the rows of shops. The general store was next door, and the night before, after I was done setting up Texas Jack’s Hot-Cha Chili Seasoning Palace in our spot and before I moseyed into the casino to lose twenty bucks at video poker, I helped Gert Wilson put her crockery and pot holders and cookbooks on display there. Next to her was the bakery shop, where the bean guy who’d taken over for the late (not so great) Puff sold his dried beans and, beyond that, the sheriff’s office. As if the Universe was conspiring to get my goat, just as I looked that way, Nick walked out. Sheriff’s office. Security. Get it? I bet Creosote Cal thought he was one hilarious guy.
    Just so Nick didn’t get any ideas about lecturing me for the purse-stealing incident the night before, I turned my back on him, and while I was at it, I closed my eyes and tilted back my head, too. The fragrance of hot spices didn’t just tickle my senses, it punched me right in the nose, and from there, it tingled its way into my lungs. My eyes watered just a little. My breath caught. My stomach growled.
    I couldn’t wait until after the judging, when I could get my hands on a couple bowls of Devil’s Breath.
    I was so busy indulging my chili fantasies and dreaming about the butt-kicking good times my taste buds were in for, I would have completely missed the tapping noise if it wasn’t followed by the polite sound of someone clearing his throat.
    “Didn’t mean to bother you.”
    I opened my eyes to find Yancy Harris, white-tipped cane in hand, sunglasses in place, and a smile on his face. Yancy wore a black suit that was a little too big for his slim frame and a fedora with a jaunty red-and-gray feather in the band. He lifted his hat in greeting. “I asked at the front entrance and I was told Miss Maxie Pierce was the woman to see.”
    “Well, you’ve got the right person,” I told him. “What can I do for you?”
    As if he could actually see and make sure we were alone, Yancy looked around before he stepped nearer. “I’ve got a problem of a delicate sort of nature,” he confessed.
    I was already shaking my head before I remembered it was a waste of time. “I’m not exactly a delicate sort of person,” I told him.
    Yancy laughed. “This, I have also heard. That’s why the guy out front said you could help. You see, my problem is a chili problem.”
    “Chili.” The word escaped me on the end of a sigh. “Chili problems I can handle. What do you need?”
    “It’s more like what don’t I need. You heard about the contest judging this morning, right?”
    I stopped myself on the brink of a nod. “Devil’s Breath. Yeah, it’s going to be fabulous.”
    “Well, I’m one of the judges.”
    This was not news. I knew that Yancy would be judging along with Reverend Love, Hermosa, The Great Osborn, and Dickie Dunkin.
    “A celebrity panel of judges,” I said, repeating the words on the posters I’d seen plastered all over the hotel. Even though I was pretty sure celebrity wasn’t completely accurate, I had to admit it was good publicity. “It’s going to be a blast.”
    “Exactly what I’m afraid of.” Yancy patted his stomach. “See, from what I hear, this Devil’s Breath is hotter than a two-dollar pistol. And my stomach . . . whew!” Yancy blew out a breath that smelled like peppermint. “Now this isn’t something I want to get around,” he confided. “Can’t have people thinking I’m just an old man who can’t handle his food. But I’ll tell you what, I’m not as young as I used to be and I’m not sure my stomach can take it. Not if this Devil’s Breath stuff is as hot as everybody says it is. When I asked out front, the man said you might know what to do. You know, to tone down the spiciness so that I don’t sit up there at that judges’ table and go up in smoke.”
    “I get it.” I did. Though I was a lover of all