CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Well?” frowned Luke as they walked into the event. They were all waiting on the final decision about the pie contest.
“Cocaine, heroin, glue, but no food poisonings. Most of it was old, not even likely to have been someone here. The cocaine definitely belonged to someone here, two separate rooms. The police will be waiting for them when they get to their room tonight.”
“Damn,” muttered Tango. “I feel like we’re running in circles. Someone is poisoning these bakers and the obvious choice is another baker. But who?”
“That’s what we’ll need to figure out,” said Luke. “I do think it’s time to sit down with Milton and have a discussion.”
“Milton? He’s just a judge,” said Sara.
“But even you said he’s been around forever. He might know some things that we don’t. We’ll wait until the day has ended but we’ve got to speak with him,” he said again.
Sara nodded as she and the other women stood, waiting for the final results on the pie contest. Everyone appeared nervous but not just because of the impending results.
They were scared, moving from one foot to another.
She looked down the rows of people and saw Adrian with his team.
He looked tired, exhausted in fact. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all. Suddenly a thought cross her mind.
“Honey? Wilson,” she whispered to her husband as he stepped closer. “Look at Adrian, his face, his eyes sunken in. He doesn’t look natural. His skin color is an shade of gray. Could he be poisoned?”
“Fuck,” muttered Wilson. He and Tango moved quickly to Adrian, Tailor and Alec frowning as they moved faster toward them.
“What’s wrong?” asked Tailor.
“Adrian? Adrian, look at me,” he said calmly. Adrian stared into space, then turned staring up at the huge man in front of him. He was incredibly handsome, he thought to himself.
“What did he have for lunch?” asked Tango.
“He didn’t eat anything,” said Alec. “We were actually worried about him and tried to get him to eat something.”
“But he ate nothing?” asked Wilson.
“He ate some hot chicken broth. He wanted something safe. We asked the kitchen if they could bring it out to him.”
“Get him to the hospital,” said Tango. “We think he’s been poisoned.”
“M-my team,” he murmured. “The pie, the pie contest.”
“Adrian we have it,” said one of the bakers. “Go. You look terrible. We’ve got this and tomorrow too.”
Tailor and Alec gripped the man’s arm, walking toward the exit. Milton frowned, watching them walk away but wisely said nothing. He didn’t need for the entire room to be panicked.
Adrians team received an honorable mention in the pie contest but it was two new teams that took second and third place. It was no surprise to anyone that the team from Crescent City Bakery won by a landslide.
Their flavor combinations, presentation, and taste all swept the category, giving them another medal. Tomorrow would be wedding cakes and they would include their theme of the bayou.
“Once again we would ask that you clean your stations, ensuring that all of your things are locked up or secured in some way,” said Milton. “We will start at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow.”
As the team turned to walk to their station, Milton caught up with them.
“Sara? I saw Adrian leave with two of your friends. Is he okay?” he asked, his face filled with concern.
“We’re not sure. He wasn’t feeling well,” said Sara. “We tried to take him out quietly so that others wouldn’t panic.”
“I appreciate that more than you know,” he nodded. “This is the worst sort of nightmare to happen.” A young woman came rushing toward Milton, whispering in his ear. He pulled back staring at her.
“I’m sorry, Milton. We have to.” He only nodded.
“Everything okay?” asked Sara.
“No.” He walked back to the stage and spoke into the mic, grabbing everyone’s attention.
“Folks. Folks, if you’ll stop for a moment.
I’ve just heard that there has been a major water break beneath the building.
It’s going to take them all night and tomorrow for it to be repaired.
The refrigeration systems are all functioning and we have back-up generators.
“Given the situation, you’ll all have a free day tomorrow. I’m sure we could use the rest.” He tried to give a smile but couldn’t quite get there.
“Hiro? Water main break?” whispered Wilson into comms.
“It’s the truth. Some idiot was trying to fix the street and dug too deep. It’s fucking New Orleans, you don’t have to go far to hit water. The city is working on the repairs now. The estimate of twenty-four hours is accurate.”
“Thanks, brother,” he frowned.
“I’m sorry for the interruption,” said Milton shaking his head. “I’m getting the feeling this whole damn thing is jinxed.”
“Milton, will you join us for dinner this evening?” asked Sara.
“Me?” he smiled. “Why me?”
“We have some things we’d like to discuss with you.” Milton just stared at the woman unsure of how to reply. It could look suspicious for a judge to have dinner with a contestant.
“Milton, my husband and these other men own a security firm. They were here just as guests initially but with all the issues with the poisonings, they’ve been watching the floor and providing some extra eyes on the situation.”
Milton’s face went white and he stared at the group of men.
“Wh-why? Why wouldn’t you tell me this?” he frowned. “Do you understand the chaos this could create? People would panic.”
“No offense, Milton,” said Tango, “but they’re already panicked. Bakers have left, not returning because they’re terrified for their lives. These people are friends of Sara’s and the team, they’re friends of yours.”
“Of course,” he said shaking his head. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I want this resolved as well but all those bakers that have already left, demanded their entrance fees back. If we have anymore who do the same, we’ll be bankrupted.”
“Bankrupted?” frowned Sara.
“Please, not here,” he said. “Tell me where to meet you. Privately.”
“We’ll text you,” said Sara. They watched him walk away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ll see if we can get a private room at Brennan’s.”
Wilson nodded at his wife, kissing her cheek as the rest of the team continued to pack everything up. Luke stared up at his uncle and frowned with him.
“I’m going to have the team check street cameras on the water main break,” said Luke. “It feels too convenient.”
“I was going to say the same thing,” frowned Wilson. “The bigger question is what does someone have to win, or lose, by sabotaging all of this? I don’t think it’s about trophies or ribbons any longer.”
“I don’t either,” said Wilson. “Let’s have that dinner meeting.”