really just quote Rocky II to me?”
“It helped, didn’t it?”
Mel shook her head and walked away.
“Oh, come on, it had to help a little,” Angie protested. Then because Mel didn’t acknowledge her, Angie started humming the Rocky theme song behind her. She jogged around Mel, doing her best Rocky impression, which was pretty bad. Mel couldn’t help cracking a small smile.
“All right, all right,” she said. “I get it. You want to win. I promise I won’t let anything get in the way of that.”
Angie stopped jogging and hugged her. “And I will do anything I can to help you gather information.”
Mel gave a nod and glanced at her cell phone. They had only a half hour until they were to report to the dais for today’s culinary competition. She wondered if Grace would be here or if she’d stay holed up in her hotel room. Mel was betting on the latter.
“I’m going to run a quick errand,” she said. “Meet me at the stage in twenty minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“I want to ask our host what he thinks about Vic ending up in a freezer,” Mel said.
“Johnny? You’re going to talk to Johnny Pepper?” Angie gaped. “You said you were going to gather information; you didn’t say you were on a suicide mission.”
“Why is it a suicide mission?” Mel asked.
“Have you seen Johnny’s show?” Angie asked. “That man is crazy. He actually learned how to eat fire. How do you know he won’t shish kebab you?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to see what I can find out,” Mel said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be subtle.”
“Joe is going to be so unhappy about this.”
“I don’t see any reason why Joe would have to worry his pretty little head, do you?”
“No,” Angie said with a resigned sigh. “Fine, I’ll go see if I can chat up Pete and Dan from the bar yesterday. Maybe they heard something.”
“Twenty minutes,” Mel said, and she hurried off to the conference hall they had met in yesterday. Johnny Pepper had a dressing room in it all to himself. She was hoping he was there now, prepping for today’s competition.
She blew through the conference room, where her fellow competitors were caffeinating and carbing up on the free coffee and muffins that had been put out for them.
She saw Polly, who waved at her, but Mel stayed in motion while she waved back, not stopping until she reached Johnny’s door. She raised her fist to knock, but the sounds of shouting made her pause and press her ear to the door.
“She’s not qualified!” a Southern drawl as thick as molasses sounded through the door.
“Who cares?” a voice snapped back. It sounded familiar, but Mel couldn’t place it. “She’s a damn sight better looking than that miserable old—”
“Watch it,” the drawl said again. “You’re talking about my friend.”
“Whatever,” the voice argued. “You can’t replace her now. She’s already been photographed as the replacement judge, and like it or not, she’s going to be a real boost to our ratings.”
“Even though she doesn’t know a garlic press from an egg slicer?”
“She doesn’t need to. She’s representing the everyman palate.”
“Oh, spare me.” The drawl sounded disgusted. “Are we through?”
“For now,” the voice said.
“Good, then clear out,” Johnny said. “I need some prep time.”
Before Mel could step back, the door was yanked open, and she found herself face to face with Dutch.
“Mel, what a surprise,” he said.
He was dressed in his usual creased slacks and dress shirt, but she noticed that he didn’t look as calm as usual. In fact, his shaved head was beaded with sweat, and he didn’t even bother to put on the charm.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I just came by to see Johnny,” she said.
“I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“Well, now you do,” Johnny said. “If you’ll excuse us?”
Dutch glanced between them and gave Mel an inquisitive look before he reluctantly
“It helped, didn’t it?”
Mel shook her head and walked away.
“Oh, come on, it had to help a little,” Angie protested. Then because Mel didn’t acknowledge her, Angie started humming the Rocky theme song behind her. She jogged around Mel, doing her best Rocky impression, which was pretty bad. Mel couldn’t help cracking a small smile.
“All right, all right,” she said. “I get it. You want to win. I promise I won’t let anything get in the way of that.”
Angie stopped jogging and hugged her. “And I will do anything I can to help you gather information.”
Mel gave a nod and glanced at her cell phone. They had only a half hour until they were to report to the dais for today’s culinary competition. She wondered if Grace would be here or if she’d stay holed up in her hotel room. Mel was betting on the latter.
“I’m going to run a quick errand,” she said. “Meet me at the stage in twenty minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“I want to ask our host what he thinks about Vic ending up in a freezer,” Mel said.
“Johnny? You’re going to talk to Johnny Pepper?” Angie gaped. “You said you were going to gather information; you didn’t say you were on a suicide mission.”
“Why is it a suicide mission?” Mel asked.
“Have you seen Johnny’s show?” Angie asked. “That man is crazy. He actually learned how to eat fire. How do you know he won’t shish kebab you?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to see what I can find out,” Mel said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be subtle.”
“Joe is going to be so unhappy about this.”
“I don’t see any reason why Joe would have to worry his pretty little head, do you?”
“No,” Angie said with a resigned sigh. “Fine, I’ll go see if I can chat up Pete and Dan from the bar yesterday. Maybe they heard something.”
“Twenty minutes,” Mel said, and she hurried off to the conference hall they had met in yesterday. Johnny Pepper had a dressing room in it all to himself. She was hoping he was there now, prepping for today’s competition.
She blew through the conference room, where her fellow competitors were caffeinating and carbing up on the free coffee and muffins that had been put out for them.
She saw Polly, who waved at her, but Mel stayed in motion while she waved back, not stopping until she reached Johnny’s door. She raised her fist to knock, but the sounds of shouting made her pause and press her ear to the door.
“She’s not qualified!” a Southern drawl as thick as molasses sounded through the door.
“Who cares?” a voice snapped back. It sounded familiar, but Mel couldn’t place it. “She’s a damn sight better looking than that miserable old—”
“Watch it,” the drawl said again. “You’re talking about my friend.”
“Whatever,” the voice argued. “You can’t replace her now. She’s already been photographed as the replacement judge, and like it or not, she’s going to be a real boost to our ratings.”
“Even though she doesn’t know a garlic press from an egg slicer?”
“She doesn’t need to. She’s representing the everyman palate.”
“Oh, spare me.” The drawl sounded disgusted. “Are we through?”
“For now,” the voice said.
“Good, then clear out,” Johnny said. “I need some prep time.”
Before Mel could step back, the door was yanked open, and she found herself face to face with Dutch.
“Mel, what a surprise,” he said.
He was dressed in his usual creased slacks and dress shirt, but she noticed that he didn’t look as calm as usual. In fact, his shaved head was beaded with sweat, and he didn’t even bother to put on the charm.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I just came by to see Johnny,” she said.
“I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“Well, now you do,” Johnny said. “If you’ll excuse us?”
Dutch glanced between them and gave Mel an inquisitive look before he reluctantly
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