{"product_id":"cinco-de-murder-isbn-9780425275955","title":"Cinco de Murder","description":"\u003cb\u003eTex-Mex waitress and part-time reporter Josie Callahan serves up more Lone Star justice in this spicy mystery from the author of \u003ci\u003eThe Good, the Bad, and the Guacamole\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt's fiesta time in Broken Boot, Texas, and tourists are pouring into town faster than free beer at a bull roping for the mouthwatering Cinco de Mayo festivities. Tex-Mex waitress Josie Callahan, her feisty abuela, and even her spunky Chihuahua Lenny are polishing their folklórico dances for Saturday's big parade, while Uncle Eddie is adding his own spicy event to the fiesta menu: Broken Boot's First Annual Charity Chili Cook-off.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Uncle Eddie's hopes of impressing the town council go up in smoke when cantankerous chili cook Lucky Straw is found dead in his tent. And when Josie's beloved uncle is accused of fatal negligence, she, Lenny, and the steadfast Detective Lightfoot must uncover who ended the ambitious chilihead's life--before another cook kicks the bucket.\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eHere Today, Gone Tamale\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"This southwestern cozy comes with a spicy Tex-Mex flair. Its delightful characters and clever mystery will have you stomping your boots for more.\"--Mary Ellen Hughes, national bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Adler's debut sizzles with West Texas flavor and a mystery as satisfying as a plate of fresh tamales.\"--Annie Knox, national bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Here Today, Gone Tamale is a much-needed addition to the cozy mystery genre. Terrifically tantalizing...and as addictive as a bowl of chips and salsa. Settle in for a mystery fiesta you won't soon forget.\"--Melissa Bourbon, national bestselling author\u003cb\u003eRebecca Adler\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of the Taste of Texas Mystery series, including \u003ci\u003eHere Today, Gone Tamale; The Good, the Bad and the Guacamole; \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eCinco De Murder.\u003c\/i\u003eChapter 1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Folkl—rico Rehearsal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On such a gorgeous May morning, what could be better than a power      walk to Cho's cleaners with my long-haired Chihuahua, Lenny? The      morning sun had tossed a wide blanket of gold over the Davis and      Chisos mountains, awakening the pi–on pines and the weeping      junipers from their slumber, illuminating the bluegrass and scrub      so they looked like desert jewels. The plan had been to retrieve      my abuela's folkl—rico costume and burn some extra calories. And      though we made good time-considering the length of my canine      sidekick's pencil-thin appendages-the morning sun galloped down      Broken Boot's cobbled streets while I paid Mr. Cho with a crumpled      five-dollar bill and a coupon for a dozen free tamales.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip.\" Lenny lapped from the pet fountain in front of Elaine's      Pies, soaking his black-and-white coat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"ÁV‡monos, amigo!\" If we were late to the final dance rehearsal      before the Cinco de Mayo parade, God only knew when Senora Marisol      Martinez, our matriarch, would permit me to call her abuela again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e During my first few months back home, I was elated to find I could      accomplish tasks in far less time than in the crowded      thoroughfares of Austin. Almost a year later, I was forced to      admit the slower pace of our dusty little town didn't aid me in my      quest to check things off my list. It merely encouraged me to      meander.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On that happy thought, Lenny and I raced down the sidewalk toward      Milagro. Suddenly I tripped over the plastic clothes bag, nearly      kissing the pavement with my face. \"Whose great idea was it to      rehearse this early?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"That's what I was afraid of.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When we barreled through the front door of Milagro, the best, and      only, Tex-Mex restaurant on Main Street, I expected the folkl—rico      rehearsal to be in full swing. Instead my best friend, Patti      Perez, glared at me, which only made me smile. I was wise to her      marshmallow center, in spite of her ghostly Goth appearance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sorry,\" I mouthed. After all, it had been my idea for all of us      to join the local folkl—rico troupe-my way of embracing life back      in good old Broken Boot, Texas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"About time,\" she chided as I draped Senora Mari's costume over a      stack of hand-painted wooden chairs. In my absence, the other      dancers had cleared the dining room to create a dance floor on the      beautiful Saltillo tiles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I would have called,\" I began.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"But I was trapped in a dead zone,\" we said in unison. Service was      so bad in Broken Boot and its outlying communities that folks were      slower here than in the rest of the country in ditching their      landlines.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Where's Anthony?\" When our headwaiter offered his newly formed      mariachi band to play for our first performance, I didn't have the      heart to say no. Beggars can't be choosers, or look a gift band in      the mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Tsk, tsk.\" Across the room, Anthony's new fiancŽe placed her hand      over the bar phone's mouthpiece. Though christened Lucinda, we'd      quickly dubbed her Cindy to avoid calling her Linda, my aunt's      name, and vice versa. \"He says his truck has a flat tire.\" She      scowled at whatever Anthony said next and responded with a flurry      of Spanish.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Who doesn't keep a spare in the desert?\" Patti, whom I referred      to as Goth Girl if for no other reason than to hear her snort,      delivered this line with a deadpan expression and a flick of her      rehearsal skirt.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip,\" Lenny said, chasing after her ruffles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Goth Girl snapped her head in my direction and gave me the stink      eye. \"Tell me you replaced your spare.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Uh, well, not yet, but I will after Cinco de Mayo.\" Money was a      bit tight, what with the loss of tourists during the winter      months.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e To my right, Aunt Linda, a stunning middle-aged woman with warm      chestnut hair, modeled her bright-colored skirt better than any      fashionista in Paris. \"That's what you said about Valentine's      Day.\" She was my late mother's older sister. She might look great      in her Wranglers, but she and rhythm had never been introduced.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And Saint Patrick's,\" chimed in Senora Mari, executing a double      spin. This morning she wore a rehearsal skirt of black-tiered lace      along with her Milagro uniform of peasant blouse, gray bun at her      nape, and large pink flower behind her ear. No matter how much I      rehearsed, none of my moves could compare to her sassy head turns      and flamboyant poses. Who knew my seventy-something,      four-foot-eleven abuela would turn out to be the star of our      ragtag troupe?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A sharp clapping interrupted our chatter. \"Let's try it on the      counts,\" cried Mrs. Felicia Cogburn, mayor's wife and      self-appointed dance captain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip,\" Lenny agreed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Why is that dog here?\" Mrs. Cogburn demanded, her hands raised in      mid-clap.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"He has a key role, remember?\" My abuela smiled, an expression so      rare on her dear weathered face it made folks uncomfortable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mrs. Cogburn blinked several times. \"Of course.\" Before she could      begin, a small truck landed at the curb with a bed full of      musicians, trumpets and guitars in full serenade. The band stopped      playing long enough to hurry inside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"ÁAy, Dios! Senora, I had to borrow a spare. Mine was flat.\"      Anthony waved his friends into a semicircle just inside the door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Senora Mari thrust a finger into the air. \"So you say.\" She      snapped her head dramatically to the side. \"Play.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With a worried look, Anthony counted off, and the group of      dark-haired men and boys began to play the jarabe tapat’o, the      Mexican hat dance. I spied a familiar face on trumpet. Anthony's      little sister Lily gave me a wink and a nod.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As the trumpets and guitars played, Mrs. Cogburn called out, \"And      one, two, three, four.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Where's your skirt?\" Patti asked as we twirled first right and      then left.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Ah, chicken sticks.\" I dodged the dancers, ran up the stairs to      my loft apartment, and retrieved my long skirt from a chrome      dining chair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip, yip, yip,\" Lenny cried from the bottom of the stairs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sorry.\" I found his straw hat on the yellow Formica table and      made it downstairs without mishap. \"Here you go, handsome.\" I      perched the hat on his head and tightened the elastic under his      chin. As we danced, Lenny would spin in place on his back legs,      melting the hearts of the crowd faster than fried ice cream in      August.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I hurried to my place on the back row next to Patti as the band      launched into their next number, \"El Mariachi.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Josie, stand up straight,\" called Mrs. Cogburn. \"Linda, you're      turning in the wrong direction.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e After running through our routine six times without a break, we      collapsed into the dining room with refreshments. I was removing      Lenny's straw hat when the cowbell over the front door clanged.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A middle-aged man with a gray buzz cut and white coveralls stepped      inside. \"Howdy.\" He checked his clipboard and gave us an expectant      smile. \"I'm looking for Mrs. Cogburn.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"That's me.\" With a hand to her hair, Mrs. Cogburn stepped      forward. \"As long as you're not from the IRS.\" She giggled, her      cheeks flushing a soft pink.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Aunt Linda marched to the front door. \"We have plenty of parking      on the side of our building.\" She pointed through the doorway to      where a white cargo van, emblazoned with fillmore's fireworks,      stood double-parked. \"Why don't you use it instead of blocking      traffic?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Buzz Cut's eyes narrowed. \"Maybe I'd forgotten how ornery and      downright persnickety small-town business owners can be.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A tense silence followed as he glared at her and she glared at      him. Suddenly they burst into laughter and hugged. \"Frank, what      are you doing here? I thought you'd moved to Marshall or Longview,      somewhere out in the Piney Woods.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With a self-conscious smile, he ran a hand through his hair. \"I      did, but business still takes me out this way a few times a year.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Patti and I exchanged glances. I had never seen my business-minded      aunt react so warmly to any man except Uncle Eddie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With a glance at our curious faces, Aunt Linda presented Buzz Cut      like a sequined model presenting a heavy-load truck to a      mesmerized crowd at the El Paso Car Show. \"My prom date in high      school, Frank Fillmore.\" With a flourish, she swung her arm wide.      \"And this is everybody.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Nice to meet all of y'all.\" His eyes widened as he took in the      large group of dancers and musicians. His grin revealed a wide      space between his two front teeth. \"Hola, Àc—mo est‡s?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Fatal,\" Senora Mari muttered. \"Are we going to dance or chatter      like squirrels?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Senora.\" His eyes twinkled with good humor. \"Would your cooking      be the source of the amazing, mouthwatering aroma of this place?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She shrugged. \"It's my kitchen, so it must be true.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And I bet it's your way or the highway.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e After a moment of hesitation, she honored him with a careful      smile. \"S’. Of course.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"My wife, Felicia, was the same way.\" His expression softened.      \"Had to be in charge of the kitchen, didn't want any help. Didn't      even trust me to wash a dish.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Come back after lunch and we'll set you up with all the dishes      you can handle,\" I said. If the dishwasher didn't show up, me,      myself, and the busboy were screwed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Everyone laughed. Even Senora Mari added her abrupt ha-ha-ha.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"This young lady with the sassy mouth is my niece, Josie      Callahan.\" Aunt Linda raised an eyebrow and gave me a look of      gentle reproach.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Miss Callahan.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Frank, we'll have to catch up later. Glad you're back this year      for Saturday's big show.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mrs. Cogburn clasped her joined hands to her chest. \"Mr. Fillmore,      please accept my apologies. I should have recognized you from the      last time you participated in our Cinco de Mayo festivities,      regardless of your new hairstyle.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No need to apologize.\" He gave her a brief smile. \"But I do need      someone to follow me to the fairgrounds. The mayor wanted a bigger      show; and it requires a different setup.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Aunt Linda took Mrs. Mayor by the arm. \"Senora Mari will take them      through their paces, won't you?\" She raised a brow at her      mother-in-law.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My abuela studied us like a drill sergeant studies his rough      recruits. \"S’, I will lead.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I wish my husband was here. He would make it plain as day.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I can go,\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Jo Jo, you stay.\" Uncle Eddie entered from the hallway, dressed      in his usual attire: pressed jeans, plaid Western shirt, and      leather vest. \"You and I need to go over the last-minute details      for tomorrow. I don't want no International Chili Association      official to tear a strip off my hide.\" A tourist at Two Boots      dance hall, our other establishment, might suspect Uncle Eddie of      wearing a costume. Little did they know, he wore the same outfit      day in and day out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll be glad to help out.\" Aunt Linda threw an arm around Mrs.      Cogburn's shoulders.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I waited for my aunt to introduce Frank Fillmore to my uncle, but      the introduction never came.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"ÁV‡monos! Don't stand around gawking.\" Senora Mari took her place      front and center while the rest of us darted into position and the      band started to play.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e After a word to Fillmore, Mrs. Cogburn returned to her charges.      \"And one, two, three, four.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Uncle Eddie made for Milagro's office just as Frank Fillmore      opened the front door for my aunt. She caught my eye, glanced      toward her husband's retreating back, and, with an impish grin,      lifted a finger to her lips.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Two hours later, my abuela threw her copy of the Broken Boot Bugle      onto the counter. ÒÁSuficiente! Who cares if you break one or two      rules?Ó\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Senora Mari was not my grandmother. Technically, she was my Aunt      Linda's mother-in-law, but since I'd been raised in their home      after the car accident that claimed both my parents, she often      allowed me to refer to her as abuela. But if Lenny had been under      foot or barked too loudly in the morning, she would remind me that      Senora Mari was her rightful title.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Mam‡.\" Uncle Eddie lowered a fresh glass of sweet tea without      taking a sip. \"The town council is watching me like a hawk, just      waiting for me to screw up.\" My uncle's dark hair was slicked back      in his usual style, light puffs of gray at his temples. His broad,      honest face was tense with worry, deepening the wrinkles the West      Texas sun had furrowed across his forehead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You're imagining things.\" I took the International Chili      Association cook-off planning binder from his hands. \"It will all      fall into place, you'll see.\" And I gave him a pat on the      shoulder. \"We've reviewed every detail from beans to trophies.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip.\" Lenny stood on a wooden chair so Cindy could complete his      costume fitting.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Okay, okay, little one. Soon. I will finish soon.\" Her small,      delicate hands had created a darling pair of white satin pants and      jacket to match what the members of Anthony's mariachi band were      wearing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Where's his sombrero?\" asked Uncle Eddie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I have it here.\" From her sewing kit Cindy retrieved a white      satin hat with gold detailing and placed it on his head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I squealed with glee. \"Isn't he adorable?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Humph.\" Senora Mari thrust her hands on her hips. \"If you think a      long-haired rat dressed like a human is cute, you are loco.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Is it not right?\" Cindy asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I glared at Senora Mari behind the young woman's back. \"It's not      you or your beautiful costume.\" I smoothed Lenny's white jacket      and rubbed him under the chin. \"She would say the same if he were      dressed like Our Lady of Guadalupe.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Cindy turned her wide brown eyes on Senora Mari. \"You would?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I would.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Cindy smiled. \"Then he is perfect for tomorrow's parade.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Let's try it out.\" I lowered Lenny to the tile floor. \"Stand,\" I      commanded. Without hesitation, he lifted his front legs and pawed      the air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"So adorable.\" Cindy clapped her hands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Turn,\" I continued.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With the grace of a ballet dancer, Lenny hopped in a full circle      until he was back where he started, paws still high.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Good boy.\" I scooped him up and kissed his head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yip.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, yes, very handsome.\" I paid Cindy on her way out, even      though she insisted the beautiful costume was a gift.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When I returned, Senora Mari was waiting. \"Where are you?\" She      tapped the paper with the tips of her fingers. \"You said you wrote      a story.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Page ten. The article about the fifty head of Herefords blocking      Highway 90.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With a grunt, she found the page and read the article. \"This is,\"      she held her thumb and index finger about two inches apart,      \"smaller than a cucaracha.\" She lifted her chin. \"Why?\"","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302471160037,"sku":"NP9780425275955","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780425275955.jpg?v=1767723735","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/cinco-de-murder-isbn-9780425275955","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}