Homicide and Halo-Halo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery #2)

“Oh come now, Oskar. Don’t make a scene!” the mayor said. “I understand why you’re upset, but you’re being a bad sport about this.”

“The deli in my grocery store has helped cater the Miss Teen Shady Palms potluck for years! You gonna stop an old man from trying to deliver sandwiches?” The owner of the One Stop Shop, Shady Palms’s combination grocery store/deli/convenience store, stood at the doorway, a full tray in his hands.

Valerie sighed. “Why are you even here, Mr. Weinman? You are no longer part of the pageant, and as far as I know, you have no relation to any of the young women participating. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Mr. Weinman lowered his voice. “Look, I just want to donate some sandwiches and hand out some coupons, OK? Business has been slow and I could use the opportunity to remind everyone I make the best damn sandwiches in Shady Palms.”

He raised his voice for the last part of the sentence, drawing the attention of most of the people in the room.

The mayor grunted in frustration. “Fine, Oskar. Thank you for your donation, but this is the last time, OK?”

Valerie said, “But, Mayor—”

The mayor cut her off. “I’m serious, Oskar. After this, you pay to advertise or sponsor the pageant, just like everyone else. You hear me?”

Oskar glared at Valerie, as if this were her fault, but said, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Mr. Mayor,” and went to go set up his sandwiches.

“I’m not sure that was a good idea, Bill,” Valerie said. She crossed her arms, her eyes following Mr. Weinman’s path through the room, watching him interrupt conversations to hand out coupons.

“And I’d like to remind you that this wouldn’t even be an issue if you hadn’t stuck your big Thompson nose in pageant business that had nothing to do with you. Your ridiculous crusade is ruining an honored Shady Palms tradition, and we don’t need any bad press right now. Just play nice for once, will you?” And with that last condescending remark, Mayor Gunderson went to go grab a sandwich.

Valerie, as if in reaction to the mayor’s insult, pinched the bridge of the offending feature while watching the two men, her eyes narrowed. She must’ve felt my gaze on her because she dropped her hand and turned to me.

“I’m not offended by what he said about my appearance, just so you know,” she said, reading my mind. “It’s always been a family joke, us sticking our large noses into everyone’s business, always wanting to be part of everything going on in Shady Palms. It’s his dismissive attitude I don’t care for.”

We both watched as Rob approached Mr. Weinman and slapped him on the back in greeting. In response, Mr. Weinman threw off his arm and shoved him. Valerie made a move toward them, but before she got more than a few steps away, Rob had his hands up in surrender and Oskar was leaving, bumping into both me and Valerie in his haste toward the door.

“Rude,” I muttered.

“You’re not wrong, but there’s some history there,” Valerie said. “My brother may have slept with Oskar’s wife and caused their divorce. Well, honestly, it had been coming for ages, but Rob was probably the last straw. I just wanted to make sure they didn’t cause a scene.”

I gaped at her, but she just shrugged. “Just about everybody knows, so it’s not like I’m revealing sensitive information. Surprised you hadn’t heard about it yet. Anyway, whatever happened is between them, but this is an official pageant event. I don’t need any liability issues because my brother doesn’t have a loyal bone in his body.”

“I heard that, Big Sister,” Rob said. He looked utterly unfazed by what had just occurred.

Valerie snorted. “And was I wrong?”

He grinned at us. “We just have different ideas of loyalty and commitment, that’s all. Beth understands.”

“Beth likes being a Thompson enough to forgive your failings. Not exactly the same.”

“Who’s Beth?” I asked.

“My wife,” Rob said, his eyes already wandering, looking for his next target.

“Your wife?!” I couldn’t keep the judgment off my face or out of my voice.

He shrugged. “She knew who I was when she married me. It’s not like any of this is news to her. We have an understanding.” He paused, looking away to watch the crowd around Sana. “She’s the only one who really gets me.”

Valerie shook her head. “I’m so glad I have no romantic urges. The Thompsons have always been terrible at love.”

Rob looked back at us and grinned, tapping his nose. “What can I say? Thompson family genes. Always sticking our noses in places they don’t belong.”

I watched him walk over to a group that included Joy. “What the heck did he mean by that?”

“No clue, but knowing him, I’d suggest not trying to figure it out.” She glanced at her watch. “Excellent, the potluck is past its official ending time, which means we had a successful event and I can take the last of your grandmother’s dessert home to enjoy in peace. See you tomorrow, Lila.”

She paused, watching Rob stand next to Joy. He didn’t do anything, didn’t even seem to be talking to her, but she still said, “You might want to have a word with her. Just in case.”

As she said that, Bernadette materialized between Joy and Rob, creating space between the two. I couldn’t hear what she said from where I stood, but Rob’s response obviously didn’t jell with her because she started taking her earrings off. Joy pulled Bernadette away before she could start swinging on Rob, saving me the trouble. I had no idea what just happened, but our family didn’t need an assault charge, especially against one of the Thompsons. Our lawyer was good, but no one was that good.

“You need to get your brother under control,” I said to Valerie.

“You think I haven’t tried? I just hope he doesn’t do anything to ruin the pageant,” she said, watching her brother grimly. As he slid his arm around one of the moms, she added, “But ruining things is what he does best.”





Chapter Five





I woke up the next morning in a funk, one that persisted through my solitary breakfast, since my aunt and grandmother were at church. Well, not completely solitary since my dachshund, Longganisa, was with me. She’d eaten her diet kibble at lightning speed and was now curled up at my feet, waiting to pounce on the inevitable dropped bits of food. I’d just broken the yolk on my perfect sunny-side up egg when I got a text from Adeena, reminding me to stop by the cafe later to finish setting up the altar space Elena had planned, and oh, where was my part of the menu?

Well, there went my appetite. I pushed my barely touched plate away, knowing it was time to face the truth. I’d been avoiding this for months, hoping it’d all work itself out in the end (my usual way of handling things) but there it was: I’d lost my baking mojo.

Mia P. Manansala's books