Ms America and the Mayhem in Miami (Beauty Queen Mysteries No. 3) Read Online Free PDF

go. Peppi’s not even cold and Jason’s drawing a line in the sand.
    “That text must be from Dad,” Rachel says, “because you’ve got that expression you always get when he says something you don’t like.”
    “I’m that easy to read?”
    “I knew he wouldn’t want you to investigate the murder,” Rachel goes on.
    I set down my phone without replying to the text. I understand why Jason feels the way he does. Danger. Danger. And more danger.
    “Was it really scary to see that lady dead?” Rachel wants to know.
    I have to think about it. “It was very upsetting but I wouldn’t say scary.” I don’t mention it but Peppi’s wasn’t my first corpse. “It really bothers me, though, how Trixie and I were enjoying ourselves having a wonderful lunch and all the while Peppi was going through something horrifying.”
    “Fighting for her life,” Trixie says.
    Remembering lunch brings to mind Mariela’s this-pageant-is-rigged allegation. “It could’ve been Peppi who composed a top five list.”
    Trixie’s hazel eyes widen with comprehension. “You could text Lasalo and ask if he made one.”
    That text I do write. Immediately Lasalo replies that he didn’t make a top five list. “You know what that means,” I say.
    Trixie nods. “We know at least one contestant who was really mad at Peppi.”
    “And one contestant’s mother.” An eyewitness to supposed pageant perfidy.
    “That detective with the pancake makeup isn’t even thinking about them,” Trixie points out.
    No. Because he’s too busy homing in on a trumpet player who I’m sure had nothing to do with Peppi’s murder.

CHAPTER FOUR

    Rachel pipes up. “You liked this woman Peppi, right, mom?”
    “I did. We chatted before rehearsal. We talked about her work and my pageant stuff and all sorts of things. She was peppy,” I add, and we all laugh.
    “She seemed kind of like your mom and me,” Trixie says. “Kind of like a beauty queen. A nice one, because unfortunately they’re not all nice, you know.”
    I voice something else I’ve been thinking. “For me this is a little different from the people who died in Hawaii and Vegas. I know it shouldn’t matter because murder is never right, but I wasn’t crazy about them. Personally, I mean. Peppi I feel differently about. So what happened to her seems especially sad to me.”
    Trixie sighs. “It’s made me forget my troubles.”
    An expression of understanding crosses Rachel’s face. “I really see how if you knew the person who died, you’d want to do your best to find out who murdered them.” She gives me a funny look then turns to Trixie. “Ms. Barnett? Do you think my mom really is good at that?”
    “I sure do.”
    I am gratified to hear Trixie unhesitatingly deliver this response.
    “I’ve seen her do it twice now,” Trixie goes on. “She thinks of things nobody else does. You should be really proud of her.”
    My daughter turns her lovely eyes to me. “Then I think you should do it, Mom. Since you’re so good at it. Figure out who killed Peppi. Whether Dad likes it or not.”
    Of course I promptly burst into tears, which causes a restaurant-wide ruckus even though my hysteria had nothing to do with the food. Eventually, after tissues are pushed in my direction and I mop my face, our server brings us three desserts on the house. I approve, because while sugar may not heal all wounds it certainly makes them feel better.
    “Thank you so much for what you said, Trixie”—I grab her hand—“and you, too, Rach. You are the only one in the family who understands why it’s so important to me to try to solve these murders.” I nearly launch into round two of frenzied sobs remembering her words. Then I think you should do it, Mom. Since you’re so good at it …
    “I know Dad thinks it’s dangerous and Grandma thinks it makes you a pervert. Before I came here, I thought it was just kind of embarrassing. Since you’re not a cop or anything you could really make a