Read Online Here Today, Gone Tamale by Rebecca Adler - Free Book Online

making another batch today, just in case.”
    I swung around in my seat. “You’ll need us to help you, right?” Making tamales was usually fun, but that’s because it was a group activity. Sharing the work and gossiping with family made it less tedious.
    The older woman shrugged. “I can do it by myself. I usually do.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Aunt Linda asked in a panic. “Where’s Carlos? Is his mother okay?”
    I wanted to laugh, but I bit my tongue. Senora Mari hadonce again taken on the role of family martyr, which was ridiculous because she usually made tamales with the help of Carlos, our to-go cook.
    Instead, I changed the subject. “How are all those tamales going to keep until Saturday?”
    â€œWe had to freeze the ones for the contest,” my aunt said.
    â€œHumph.” Senora Mari disliked serving anything that wasn’t fresh, but we’d finally convinced her that the tamales for the contest weren’t eaten because of their freshness. They were consumed in great quantities because people wanted to win a month’s worth of free tamales from our restaurant.
    Turning onto Main Street, the asphalt shimmered with heat like a mirage in the desert. The LED sign at First Cogburn Bank flashed ninety degrees at ten twenty-nine in the morning. A scorcher.
    A Big Bend County sheriff’s cruiser had parked at the curb in front of our restaurant, and down the block, I observed the deputy with the raven hair strolling into Elaine’s Pies. I had a few precious minutes to grab some breakfast and coffee before he realized we’d arrived. Could it be a coincidence? Could he merely be hungry for a savory breakfast pie? Not today.
    In all my years of living in Broken Boot, I’d never heard of anyone else being found dead in the street, or the alley for that matter. The sheriff’s department would be all over Dixie’s death like white on rice. I had no doubt Deputy Lightfoot was preparing to tie up the loose ends by putting me through the wringer, and I had the sinking feeling he wouldn’t question me in the same fatherly way as Sheriff Wallace.
    As Aunt Linda drove behind the restaurant to park, our jaws fell. Yellow crime scene tape crisscrossed Milagro’s back door. Half the alley, including the area around the Dumpster and Dixie’s van, was blocked off with traffic cones and the same yellow tape that warned SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT DO NOT CROSS
.
    â€œWhat did I tell you?” Senora Mari whispered.
    I wasn’t convinced. Wouldn’t they mark off the scene if they were still investigating?
    â€œPeople aren’t murdered in this town,” I chided. “You watch too many crime shows.” There wasn’t a CSI Broken Boot for a good reason. Who would want to watch a snooze-fest of an occasional criminal armed with a spray can?
    â€œNo, no, no! We can’t close today!” My aunt slammed the car into park just as her cell rang.
    We gathered our things and headed for the entrance. “Are the coolers working or not?” she almost shouted into her phone.
    From the sound of things, Two Boots was having its own difficulties. I tried not to focus on the obvious, but as Uncle Eddie always said,
A dance hall without beer is like a bull without horns: there’s no point.
It was a terrible joke, but we did need both locations open to ensure we had the necessary funds for the constant repairs, like the AC at Milagro and the drink coolers at our dance hall.
    I caught Senora Mari ducking under the crime scene tape to eye the gravel and weeds. “There’s nothing here for them to see,” she murmured. “No blood, guts, nothing.”
    OMG.
“Come out of there, you’ll get us in trouble,” I warned, even as every fiber of my being longed to duck behind the Dumpster to revisit the site where Dixie died. Despite my yearning, I set aside my own curiosity. Wallace and his deputies