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Mercy kept a good distance between herself and Spencer, watching the blonde in action. At times Marlena seemed flirty, other times she acted upset, and sometimes she appeared to be pleading with him. Oddly, Spence’s attitude didn’t change with her moods. He was friendly, and that was enough to raise Mercy’s ire. When he bought two tickets for the mirror maze, though, she stepped back. There was no way she was going to follow them in there, so she found a bench across the street and waited for them to come out.
Sitting in the hot sun made her grouchy, and the wig began to itch. Two people sitting nearby got up and hurried away when she began digging at her scalp. She found a small stick and used it to poke her head when no one was watching. Then Spencer and Marlena exited the mirror house holding hands and laughing, and Mercy accidentally broke the stick when she jammed it into her scalp. It snapped loudly, and her bench mate hopped to her feet, looking disgusted at the broken stick poking out of Mercy’s hair. Mercy tossed one piece over her shoulder and pulled the other section from her hair after the man left.
She got to her feet, preparing to follow Spencer and Marlena. Where did they go? She finally stood on the bench, hoping to spot them on the crowded street, but they had disappeared. Wonderful! Mercy got off the bench and jostled a woman trying to commandeer the bench for herself and her six kids.
Eek! It was her—again. But this time Mercy didn’t have to worry about abandoned children or the bus. The frazzled woman didn’t even seem to notice Mercy as she dropped onto the bench, and Mercy suddenly felt sorry for her when the sweaty kids all squeezed onto the seat with her.
“Wow, you’ve got a lot on your hands,” Mercy remarked sympathetically, wondering where the children’s father was. The woman looked up in surprise and her expression changed to suspicion, then recognition and anger as though she read Mercy’s mind. Yikes. She’s touchy! But I guess hauling six kids around the festival for two days would make anyone crabby.
When an announcement was made letting the visitors know the cookoff was about to begin, Mercy walked to the park, where the entrants were being introduced by Sam, last year’s winner. His expression darkened when he introduced Howie, who appeared confident. After he finished, Sam dropped the microphone and stormed away while the crowd moved close to watch the cooks prepare their meat. It wasn’t thrilling, but at least Mercy had shade so she stayed and watched until most of them were cooking on the grill. After a few minutes of listening to sizzling meat, she decided to head back to the booths and carnival area.
Out of curiosity, she bought a brownie from Minnow Gaines. “Tell your friends about us!” Minnow called after her. Mercy unwrapped it and took a nibble. Then her face screwed up, and she checked the ingredients. Chick peas and garbanzo beans? Hell, no! That wasn’t a brownie, so she tossed it toward a trash barrel. It hit the edge and bounced off, rolling a few feet before coming to a stop. She thought about leaving it but then decided Minnow might walk by and see it and think Mercy accidentally dropped it and bring her another. Ugh.
She lunged for the brown square that was quickly packing on a hard outer shell of dirt as it was kicked around. Just as her fingers closed around it, Celia Arceneaux stepped on her hand and Mercy tried pulling it back. The unexpected movement under her foot startled Celia, and she flapped her arms like windmills.
Mercy glanced up and screamed in terror at the flabby jiggling legs in her face seconds before they collapsed and Celia flattened her. In the confusion that followed, Mercy ended up looking at her own wig. She searched for her eyeglasses, which had also been knocked off, but she didn’t see them and decided it was better to leave without them. If she lingered too long, Celia would demand an apology so Mercy slapped the wig on her head and crawled through the wall of legs that surrounded them. When she reached the edge, she got to her feet and bumped straight into Deputy LeBlanc, who looked down his nose suspiciously.
“Hey, was that Mercy screaming?”
Mercy tensed at the sound of Spencer’s voice, and when Carter turned to address him she ran, desperate to find a mirror to straighten her wig and hide so Spencer wouldn’t see her. The closest place was the House of Mirrors, so she bought a ticket. With only a moment of hesitation, she ran into the maze, praying she wouldn’t bounce off a mirror and roll back out. Ironically, she didn’t hit a single solid surface as she dodged back and forth, moving away from the mirrors that might show her reflection out the front.
When she felt it was safe, she stopped to adjust the hairpiece and catch her breath. Now she had to find her way out. Phooey! Why didn’t she think ahead? Soon everyone in Sinful would know she had gone to the event in disguise and gotten lost in the maze because they’d have to dismantle the place to get her out. And wouldn’t it just be the icing on Marlena’s cake when she saw Mercy, a blubbering wreck crouched in a fetal position, sucking her thumb—Get a grip, Merc!
She straightened her shirt and took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes with determination. With her arms out, she felt around until she found an open space. She stepped through it and smacked into a panel, staggering backwards before hitting another that knocked her to her hands and knees. Stunned, she inhaled to control her panic and frowned at the object on the floor, wondering what she had jarred loose with her pinball imitation. She reached for the possible tripping hazard and pulled her hand back in astonishment. There was nothing loose on the floor and what she saw was an arrow only visible from her low position. Was it possible there was a cheat built into the maze? She crawled in the direction to which the arrow pointed and saw another. Then another. In less than five minutes she was out of the mirror house. She stood when she got to the exit and hoped no one had witnessed her undignified progress. But even if they had, it was better than the alternative.
Outside she bought a cup of lemonade and sat while she decided what to do next, and suddenly it became clear. Just like the arrows appearing unexpectedly in the maze, Marlena and Spencer strolled by heading to the Ferris Wheel. Unable to resist, she stayed behind them and hopped into a car a few past the one they entered. As the wheel rotated, she craned her neck and leaned over the side to watch them. Her brows dropped when she saw Marlena scoot across the seat and push Spencer into the corner. And he didn’t seem to mind!
Mercy sat back with a huff and pulled a package of gum from her pocket. She unwrapped a piece and stuffed it into her mouth. That witch! She added another stick and hunched forward in time to see Spencer put his arm around Marlena’s shoulders. She anxiously crammed in two more pieces and worked her jaw around the huge wad. The wheel completed a circuit while she chewed, and when the car carrying Marlena and Spencer was below her Mercy peered over and gaped when she saw the blonde tramp look up at Spencer with big eyes. The operator of the ride brought the wheel to a sudden halt, and when it shook the cars Spencer’s mouth connected with Marlena’s. No!
Though her protest was silent, she opened her mouth. The ball of chewing gum fell out at the same moment the ride started, and she was tossed back onto her seat. From below she heard a woman scream, but she wasn’t positioned to see what had happened. Eventually the wheel slowed and paused for each car to empty and refill. Mercy was the last one off, and she discovered she had lost the couple again. Bugs!
Well, she really needed to spend time listening for voices that might jog her memory, so she quit following Spence and walked through town. She heard many familiar voices, but it didn’t help her recall anything useful. The announcement that the cookoff contest was about to be judged took her by surprise. She wasn’t even aware that time had passed so quickly.
Mercy headed toward the park but was knocked off her feet when a man rammed into her from the side, pushing her down between two tents. She was stunned when Sam pulled her up and dragged her behind the tents as she tried to straighten her twisted wig. His face was red and angry, and he bruised her arm with his tight grip.
“Why are you trying to sabotage my business?” he demanded. Mercy cringed at the fury in his voice.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“The contest—"
“What’s going on?” Carter’s sharp question took them by surprise. Sam loosened his grip at the unexpected interruption, and Mercy took the opportunity to run, holding her wig as she did so. Carter didn’t need her to tell him what he had obviously witnessed, and she wanted to find Ida Belle and Gertie. Sam had just moved to the top of the suspect list, and since he was in Carter’s hands, she needn’t worry about another ambush.
The park was filled with people who had come to watch the results of the cookoff. Even Char-Lee attended the event in his bulky hoodie, and Mercy wondered how he was able to stand the heat. She thought Rusty must have payed him well to keep the mystery going even in weather like this.
A crowd gathered around a platform erected in the center of the park where the cooks would present their entries for the judge, and eventually the reporters, to taste. When the judge was introduced, everyone looked surprised—Celia wasn’t judging the contest. The new judge was Ida Belle!
The cooks proudly displayed their dishes on a table set on the stage. The first entry was a roast, and Ida Belle’s face turned red after sampling it. She thumped her sternum with her fist until the piece of meat flew out. It hit the platform with an audible THUD. Wheezing, she grabbed a glass of water and choked it down before turning to the cook.
“What do you call that?” she croaked. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Beef is like wine. Some people like it dry,” he said.
“Dry? I could roll it and smoke it,” Ida Belle retorted before moving along to taste the other dishes. She sampled various steak, rib, and ground beef recipes, singling out a few for special remarks.
“Elroy, next time tenderize your steak,” she suggested. “The texture is like old rawhide.”
“I cook my meat the way God gave it to us,” he replied. “Straight from the package. I don’t use no stuff to make it soft and mushy.”
“Then pound your meat with a mallet,” Ida Belle said.
“I don’t beat my meat!” he shouted. “My mama told me it’s a sin.”
“Well, that’s between you and God,” Ida Belle responded. She pointed at the steak and shook her head. “I believe the unwritten eleventh commandment should be ‘thou shalt not ruin a T-bone’ because that’s a sin.”
She laid a finger on another entry. “Gilbert, slapped cheeks are warmer and less red than your steak. ”
“It’s rare and tender,” he stated.
“No, it’s raw and a health code violation.”
He frowned. “I’m with Elroy’s mama on this one. You can’t get too rough with the meat.”
“Three minutes on the grill is too rough?” she asked. He nodded, and she walked to the next plate without sampling his steak.
Ida Belle eliminated several contestants and made another pass of those who remained, stopping occasionally for a taste. She paused thoughtfully at Howie’s entry and he smiled, but when Ida Belle moved on his expression changed and Mercy wondered why he was angry. Did he feel because he was cheated last year that he should automatically win this year?
That made two angry men in a short period of time, and Mercy’s mind drifted back to the odd encounter with Sam. Why did he accuse her of sabotage? And how did he think she would pull something like that off? He wasn’t even entered in the contest, and she didn’t have any reason to interfere with his business. She hoped Ida Belle would finish soon so they could have a conference with Gertie. Maybe they knew what was going on behind the scenes.
Finally, Ida Belle chose a woman who made meatballs, and Mercy recognized her from the bus as the one who said she’d throw some ground beef on the grill. Ida Belle set the blue ribbon by her dish and shook her hand, then placed a second prize ribbon by Howie’s ribs and left the stage while people rushed in to congratulate the winner. Mercy moved to intercept Ida Belle and was a few yards away when Howie cut her off and grabbed Ida Belle’s arm.
“What are you doing?” he shouted. “I was supposed to win!” Ida Belle used her thumb on a pressure point and drove him to his knees. He remained still until she released his hand and then he shook it, getting to his feet. “Meatballs? They belong at a potluck, not a contest!” he scoffed. Ida Belle’s eyes narrowed, and he backed away, muttering under his breath. Then he glared at Mercy before he turned and ran.
“Well, that was dramatic,” Mercy said.
“And what happened to you?” Ida Belle scrutinized her appearance and Mercy looked down at her dirty knees.
“I had an accident,” she admitted. “An unfortunate collision with Celia, where I lost my glasses.”
“Did Celia end up on her ass?” Ida Belle demanded.
“I don’t know, but she ended up on mine,” Mercy complained. “She fell on top of me!”
“Who fell on top of you?” Gertie asked as she joined them.
“Celia.” Mercy told them about the incident and then asked, “How did you wind up as judge, Ida Belle?”
She shrugged. “I was talking with Pastor Don when they took Celia out on a stretcher and Father Michael was with her. He asked Pastor Don to find a new judge, so the pastor asked me if I’d do it.”
“What? And Celia allowed it?” Gertie inquired.
“It surprised me too, but her face was white and she seemed to be in real pain. Her only concern was having Father Michael there to give her the Last Rites.”
Mercy looked astonished. “What could have happened? She fell on top of me, not down a flight of stairs.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Gertie said. “I’m sure Celia will turn it to her advantage.”
With a nod Mercy, changed the subject and told them about her incident with Sam. To her disappointment, they seemed as bewildered as she was.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Ida Belle agreed. “What did you think about Howie’s behavior after the contest ended?”
“In my opinion he looked cocky up on that stage,” Gertie said with a sniff.
“And he sounded cocky when he came after Ida Belle,” Mercy added.
Ida Belle nodded. “I’m pretty sure he gave me a sly wink when I made a second pass down the table, as though tasting was just a formality and the contest was already decided.” Her eyes narrowed. “It seemed odd until I remembered Celia was supposed to be the judge and I was just a substitute because of her accident.”
“It appears Howie may have bribed Celia,” Gertie said. “I guess he thought she would pass that information along to you, Ida Belle.”
“How did she get the job?” Mercy asked. “Wouldn’t it normally go to another person on Rusty’s staff?”
“Yes. It should have been Rusty’s assistant, but I haven’t seen her since yesterday. Maybe she’s distraught over his death. So, Ida Belle, are Laverne’s meatballs really that good?” Gertie asked curiously.
“They aren’t better than mine,” Ida Belle said. “But any woman who can raise four kids and a husband and still turn out good meat gets points for keeping all the juggling balls in the air.”
“You gave her the blue ribbon for effort?” Mercy asked in astonishment. “I wonder if Laverne will go on the road with the Roundup for a year.”
“With Rusty gone, I wonder if there will even be a Roundup next year,” Gertie mused.
Ida Belle’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “I don’t think Laverne has any interest in traveling and slinging meatballs for a year. If I know her, she just tossed in whatever she had in her cabinet and wouldn’t be able to repeat the recipe if she wanted to. Which means the runner-up will fill that position.”
“You thought Howie’s ribs were the best,” Mercy accused.
Ida Belle shrugged. “Howie will eventually go on the road and cook for the next year, but he didn’t officially win that privilege.” Mercy thought Ida Belle handled the judging skillfully, considering Howie’s attitude.
Gertie cleared her throat. “Mercy, how are things with Spencer?”
Her brows dropped. “Why don’t you ask him and that kissing—” She flapped her arms, lost for words.
“He kissed her?” Ida Belle asked, sending Gertie a worried look.
“After he hugged her.” Mercy was disgruntled. “What kind of man asks one woman out and then kisses another woman the next day? That was rhetorical, Gertie! I’ll tell you what kind—the kind of man who runs around and likes to keep women dangling on a string. Well, I don’t need that in my life. It’s complicated enough!” She tossed her hands in the air and stalked away.
“Where are you going?” Gertie called.
Mercy turned to say, “Man hunting! Ida Belle, keep the fire going because I’ll have something to grill when I get back.”
“Uh, oh,” Gertie said. “What do you suppose Spencer is up to?’
Ida Belle looked steamed. “That’s exactly what I’d like to know. He’s on the verge of blowing up my plans.”
“Perhaps I’d better follow Mercy and make sure she doesn’t unintentionally drive him into Marlena’s arms,” Gertie said. She nudged Ida Belle in warning as Deputy LeBlanc headed toward them.
“Ida Belle, Gertie,” he said by way of greeting, ignoring Gertie’s look of disappointment that he saw through her disguise. “Where’s Mercy?”
“How should we know?” Ida Belle asked. “I’ve barely seen her today.”
His eyes narrowed. “Really? So she didn’t have anything to do with taking Celia out so you could judge the contest?”
“Where did you get that idea?” Ida Belle’s brows rose in surprise. But then a look of enlightenment briefly crossed her features as she acknowledged it might appear that she and Mercy were working together and Carter had jumped on it.
“I guess her accident was no accident,” he said. “When you see her tell her to report to my office.”
“For what?” Gertie asked with a frown. “Because Celia tripped over her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I need to question her about accepting a bribe to fix the cookoff contest,” he replied.
Ida Belle snorted before bursting into laughter, and Gertie joined in.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” he said. “Celia could have been seriously injured when she fell on those stupid eyeglasses Mercy was wearing. She’s fortunate they broke and only one piece got wedged in Celia’s”—he flushed—"backside.”
“Ba, ha, ha! Celia had eyeglasses shoved up her ass!” Ida Belle whooped while Gertie giggled, and Carter tried to hide his amusement. “I think Mercy deserves a medical achievement award for finding an object that defied nature. Hell, it’s a miracle anything made it between those billowing butt cheeks! Please tell me it went straight up—” Ida Belle paused to wipe her eyes and Carter gave her a look of disgust.
“Well, I know Mercy didn’t take a bribe to fix the contest,” Gertie said flatly. “She doesn’t even know who entered, let alone care about the winner.”
“I didn’t say she helped someone win,” he said.
Ida Belle put her hand on Gertie’s arm. “We’ll be sure to pass along your message when we see her.”
“Thanks,” he replied sarcastically before leaving.
“Well, I guess Celia’s injury was real.” Gertie’s voice quivered as she fought for control.
“I wonder what Father Michael said when he found out what happened,” Ida Belle pondered.
“He might need to go to confession.” Gertie’s shoulders shook.
“And therapy.” They had another laugh and then Ida Belle said, “So someone went to Carter and accused Mercy of deliberately taking Celia out. I bet that same person made a deal with Celia to win the contest.”
“I agree. The logical choice is Howie. But if he had a deal worked out with Celia, it seems pretty careless to accuse Mercy of rigging the event. You’d think he would keep his mouth shut lest Carter discover his own attempt to fix the contest,” Gertie said thoughtfully.
“It doesn’t make sense to us,” Ida Belle agreed. “But maybe he was so angry about placing second again that he didn’t think about the consequences when he approached Carter.”
“What about Sam’s attack on Mercy? Carter didn’t say anything about that!” Gertie clutched Ida Belle’s elbow. “You don’t think Carter let him go, do you?”
“I think we’d better find out,” Ida Belle replied. “I’ll run over to the jail and you look for Mercy.” They headed out of the park, and Ida Belle teased Gertie about the failed disguises. “Neither of you fooled Carter for a second.”
Gertie fluffed her wig. “Maybe, but Mercy isn’t the only one who’s getting looks.”
They parted ways on Main Street, and Ida Belle rolled her eyes. Without her prescription eyeglasses Gertie couldn’t distinguish between a look of admiration and a look of horror.