Somehow he could always read her. Always sense when she glossed past a problem or a feeling. She started to tell him, but then realized she didn’t have a clue what was really bothering her. “I don’t know.”
“Eat. You’re tired. You’ve had a huge shock. You didn’t need me showing up tonight when all you really wanted to do was cuddle on the couch with Dom and watch cooking shows.” He took a bite of the meat loaf. “Man, this is good. Estebe is a good substitute when you can’t be in the kitchen.”
“And he knows it.” Angie smiled, and this time, the emotion really felt right. “I don’t want you to leave, but let’s not talk about anything. Not the competition, not the fair, not even our jobs.”
“Perfect. I’m just going to be here eating if you need me.”
Angie laughed as she watched him focus on his dinner. Eating food, it was the perfect healing activity. Especially for her. As she continued to eat, she started feeling calmer, more in control. By the time she finished her dinner and had poured another glass of wine, she felt almost human. “How do you feel about a film version of a Broadway musical?”
“Les Miz? Or Phantom?” He started clearing away the dishes as he made a pot of coffee.
She set her plate in the sink. “I was thinking about Hair.”
* * * *
The Sunday morning sun flowed into the bedroom as she woke. She didn’t remember going to bed, but apparently Ian had carried her from where she’d fallen asleep on the couch to her bedroom, and threw a quilt over her. A bottle of water and a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers sat on her end table.
Dom stood at the side of the bed, watching her.
“Hey, boy, I guess I slept through my alarm.” Or, she thought as she threw her legs over the bed and rubbed the top of his head, Ian had probably turned it off. She checked her phone, and as she had suspected, the five o’clock alarm had been turned off. She thought about turning it back on right away, but Monday was one of her sleep-in days. She’d fix it tomorrow night. “Give me a few minutes, and we can go outside and feed Precious.”
Dom whined in protest and lay down at the bottom of the bed. He hated visiting the barn, mostly because he hated the black goat. Maybe she was putting too many human thoughts into the dog’s head, but she could read his emotions better than she could read most people. Like that crazy Miquel. What had that been about?
She showered and got ready for her day. She’d need to be out of here soon since she still needed to stop at the grocery store for supplies, but she thought she’d be done and waiting at the site for Restaurant Wars to open. Now that she wasn’t so tired and emotionally drained from the excitement, she could play with the idea of the milkshake. She wanted to go local, and hopefully, her supplier would still have huckleberries. That would be the perfect base.
Humming and holding a cup of coffee in her hand, she crossed over the yard to the barn to feed the animals. Mabel was already up and outside. She gave Angie a sideways glance, but didn’t follow until she had filled the cup with chicken feed and poured it on the ground near her watering bowl. She smiled down at the hen. “You’re welcome.”
Then she went farther inside to greet Precious, who waited at her gate. During the summer, Angie left the back of her pen open to the outside so she could go grazing as she wanted. But the goat always seemed to know when Angie was coming to feed and would meet her at the front of her stall.
Today Precious wanted her head scratched behind her ears. Ian did that every time he saw the goat, and apparently, she’d come to expect it from all her visitors. Angie grabbed the short wooden milking stool she’d found in the barn when she’d moved back home and decided to spend some quality time with the goat. Besides, Precious was a very good listener. Angie laid out the events of yesterday, including the fact that the winner had been the one to die. She wondered if that had been the point. But if that was true, the killer had to have access to the judges’ results, if not the discussion. She thought about the five judges. They were all local politicians. Would any of them have had a problem with David? Angie made a mental note to call Felicia on the way to the fairgrounds. She had at least an hour-long drive, but with it being Sunday, she might get lucky and shave some time off the commute. She needed to make a shopping list. Felicia could help with that as well.
When she’d finished her coffee and her talk with Precious, she had a plan. First off was to grab some breakfast and write out her shopping list. It was going to be a long day, and she needed fuel.
As she cooked some eggs and sausage, her phone rang. She answered, putting it on speaker.
“Hey, Angie? How are you?” Felicia’s warm voice filled the room. Dom’s tail pounded on the floor, and he glanced around, expecting his friend to walk through the door any minute. Angie smiled and turned off the burner since the eggs had finished. She plated them and stirred the sausage.
“I’m fine. Thanks for sending Ian over with dinner last night.”
A short laugh came over the phone. “I figured you were either going to thank me or kill me for that. I hope I didn’t guess wrong.”
“Actually, I had both feelings. I was so tired, but he was thoughtful. What am I saying, it’s Ian. He’s always thoughtful. Which makes me a royal jerk for being a witch to him.” Angie went to the fridge to get the jar of fresh salsa she’d made a few days earlier. She sprinkled shredded cheese on the eggs, then a dollop of the salsa.
“You’re perfect for each other. You balance each other out.” Felicia paused. “Anyway, I didn’t get to talk to Jeorge about the mixer today. He’s not answering. I doubt if I’ll get him to pick up before noon.”
“That’s okay. I’m going to pick up both rum and vodka and do a taste test. If you reach him, ask him what goes best with milkshakes.” Angie set the sausage patties on the plate and turned off the last burner. Then she put the pan in the sink and sat with the plate at the table. Dom stared up at her, his mouth drooling—one of the bad things about owning a food-sensitive Saint Bernard.
“You’re actually doing a shake?” Felicia sounded surprised. “I would have thought an iced blend would be easier.”
“Go big or go home.” Angie glanced at her food. “Look, I’m going to eat now. Can I call you when I’m driving to the store?”
They made plans. After she hung up, Angie looked at Dom. “I don’t think she believes in my vision.”
Dom woofed. Which could have meant, I believe in you. Or, more likely it meant, If you’re not eating that breakfast, I will.
Angie pulled out a notebook and started making a list while she ate. She had the radio playing in the background, and the music made her happy. For a minute, she paused. Maybe she shouldn’t feel happy. Someone had died yesterday.