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dimples go off. “I’m in.”

“Noah.” I wince. “These people are going to suffer for entertainment purposes.”

“Not true,” Evie is quick to correct while linking arms with Everett and skipping alongside of him. “Winner gets one hundred dollars’ worth of spicy jams and jellies, a basket of cheesy jalapeño cornbread muffins, and bragging rights as the World Chili Pepper Champion.”

“World?” Mayor Nash’s eyes light up at the thought of worldwide fame.

“An entire basket of cheesy jalapeño cornbread muffins?” My own eyes light up ten times their size.

Noah glides an arm around my waist. “Those muffins are as good as yours, Lottie.”

“They are,” Everett says, gliding his arm around my waist and evicting Noah by proxy. “And I’m going to win them for you. Don’t worry, Lemon. It’s nothing but a little safe and sane fun.”

“Whoa.” I pull him back a notch. “Everett, you have to be in court tomorrow. It could last all day. The last thing you need is an upset stomach.”

“I’ve got a stomach made of steel, Lemon. I lived with Noah as a teenager. If I can handle his sock mountain display, I can handle a little intestinal irritant.”

Evie nods furtively my way. “I’ve seen Dad eat a handful of serrano peppers in one sitting. And he always douses his pizza with red chili flakes. I think he can give Uncle Noah a run for his money. But sorry, Dad”—she wrinkles her nose up at her father—“I know for a fact Uncle Noah has eaten ghost peppers with his meal before and he’s lived to tell about it because I bought a bottle of ghost pepper sauce myself. He thought he should try it first. But after watching him sweat it out, I decided it was a hard pass for me.”

I look to Everett. “And it should be a hard pass for you, too.”

“I’ll be fine.” He takes a moment to give Noah the evil eye. “Lemon, I’m winning you that basket of cornbread muffins.”

We come upon the set and spot our suspect as he talks to the cameraman.

Woody glances our way before shedding a genuine grin.

“Well, look who it is. Honey Hollow’s favorite love triangle.” He pats Noah on the back.

Woody Hawthorne looks friendly enough. He’s wearing the same style Western shirt with whipstitching that he had on the other day, only this time in navy. And he has a blue handkerchief stuffed in his pocket. Most likely because he left the red one at the scene of the crime. It was one of the clues I found that day right after I discovered Candace’s body. And I know that red handkerchief on the floor next to her desk belonged to Woody because he had a red one tucked in his shirt before the murder, and then after the murder it was suspiciously missing. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the fact the bright red file that sat on Candace’s desk during the brief tour she gave us marked death of Zack Ross went missing after the murder. And according to proximity of that handkerchief to the file itself, I say there’s a good chance Woody here swiped it.

Woody helps Noah, Everett, and Mayor Nash sign up for the event, which apparently includes a hold harmless clause agreement stating that any injuries they sustain are their own fault and nobody else’s. That should tip the three of them off that this isn’t a good idea. The next thing that should tip the three of them off that this is a supremely lousy idea is the fact there’s a huge chart featuring the peppers they’re about to ingest along with their level on the Scoville Heat Index. If your food involves a heat index chart, it should clue you in on the fact some serious digestive trouble lies ahead.

Evie and her blonde bestie, Dash, hop up and down with excitement as they stand near the left side of the table talking to their respective boyfriends.

Mayor Nash is seated right in the middle of the action, and to his left is Noah then Everett.

Each contestant is given a glass of water, along with a pitcher of water beside that, and a small plate of what look to be hot wings. There are six men at the table and four women, and to my horror one of them is Carlotta.

“Carlotta,” I hiss as I head her way. “Are you nuts? You’re going to hurt yourself. Last week I fed you a fried pickle and you said you were up all night after that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Harry was the reason I was up all night. The fried pickle didn’t but tickle my tummy. You don’t know what I’m capable of when there are free hot wings in the balance.”

“Suit yourself.”

A spray of golden stars appears right over her head and Cluck Norris materializes in all his noble glory.

“Ladies!” his voice shrills. “This felonious farm must be stopped. They’ve got ponies, sheep, goats, and pigs all locked up and bunched together while kids with sticky hands tug at their tails. Back when I was strutting around on the Cottonwood farm there was no such thing as cages.”

Carlotta’s head wobbles as she tries to look up at him. “That’s because you were one of those fancy free-range birds. It ain’t always easy for your friends in animal arms. Some of them have got it real tough. I saw those pigs you mentioned. There had to be forty if there wasn’t a hundred, and they’re all confined in a tiny little pen. But it’s all for show. After their gig at the Chili Pepper Festival is up, I’m sure they’ll be driven straight to the slaughterhouse and turned into breakfast offerings. Speaking of which.” She cranes her head at the stagehands milling around. “Do you think I can get a side of bacon with those hot wings?”

I shake my head at her. “But you’ll get a side of hellfire in your alimentary canal for free.”

“Never mind this competition,” Cluck Norris crows. “Never

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