Revenge of the Chili Queens Read Online Free

kill me!”

CHAPTER 2

    Like I was going to miss out on something as juicy as a death threat in the middle of a charity event?
    I gave Sylvia a quick “I’ll be right back,” and just like a whole bunch of other people who’d been nearby and heard the carrying-on, I raced across the plaza to see what was up.
    I found the center of the commotion not far from the main entrance to Read with the Chili Queens.
    Read with them?
    It looked to me like the two Chili Queens who stood toe-to-toe just inside the entrance to one of the tents were more interested in duking it out. Oh yeah, they had fire in their eyes. And chili ladles coated with tomatoes and spices and all kinds of greasy goodness in their hands.
    The woman on my left was short and husky. Her silverhair was pulled back and tucked into a neat bun, and her beefy arms were slick with sweat that sparkled like sequins when the overhead lights twinkled. She wore a long black skirt, like mine, and a red shirt. Both were covered by the white apron looped around her neck.
    The woman who stood opposite her was taller by a head, with salt-and-pepper hair cut stylishly short and shaggy and a chin as pointed as the look she gave the other woman. She wore a white dress like a nurse might wear, with an apron printed with blue and red flowers over it.
    “I’m crazy? Me?” Like the chili that dribbled from the ladle in her hand, the taller woman’s words dripped malice. So did the look she tossed at the other woman. “You’re the one who—”
    “Loco! I told you! I told you she was nuts!” As if to gather support, the shorter woman took a moment to glance at the gathering crowd. When she stepped back and pointed her chili ladle at the other woman, the taller woman flinched, squinted, and stepped back, too. She bent her elbow and cradled the long handle of her ladle in one hand.
    Across from her, the shorter woman mirrored her stance.
    I held my breath and waited for someone to shout out En garde!
    Before anybody could, Nick Falcone showed up. Didn’t it figure? The guy who fuels my fantasies also ruins all the fun.
    Nick stepped between the two women, and I had to give him credit; while the rest of us were waiting there, tense and perspiring and anxious to see who would twitch herladle first and fling the first splats of chili, Nick was his usual cool-as-a-cucumber self. Navy suit (in this heat, was the guy crazy?), starched white shirt, killer tie in swirls of green and a blue that (not coincidentally, I’d bet) matched his out-of-this-world eyes. His expression was as suave as his outfit, like he was chatting up these two adversaries at a cocktail party instead of diffusing what looked like it might turn into a rip-roaring chili smackdown.
    “Ladies.” Nick nodded toward one woman, then the other, and believe me, I think he knew exactly what he was doing when he added one of his signature hotter-than-a-ghost-pepper smiles. Hey, when you’ve got that kind of talent, you’ve got to work it. “What seems to be the problem?”
    “Problem?” the short woman blurted out. “Martha, she don’t know the meaning of the word problem .”
    “Shaking in my shoes over here, Rosa,” the taller woman snapped, and as if to prove it, she gave her shoulders an exaggerated wiggle. “As always, you scare me to death!”
    “I should.” Rosa’s dark eyes spit fire. When she stepped forward, so did Martha, and Nick held both his arms out to his sides to keep the women from getting any closer to each other. Or maybe he was just trying to make sure his suit didn’t get any chili on it.
    He looked at the crowd in that steely sort of way cops (and, apparently, former cops) always do. “Excitement’s over, folks. Time to head back to the party.”
    It wasn’t a request.
    And nobody was about to argue.
    One by one, the partygoers drifted away to the other tents.
    Except for the one who wasn’t about to cave. Or miss one second of the excitement.
    I think the moment Nick let go a