Her gaze licked up and down his body. “Well, I might be. If you’re wondering.”
“Oh,” he said, his voice such a deep purr that I nearly laughed, “I’m wondering, all right. I would love to know.”
“Then come with me. I’ll show you how it’s done.” She sniffed in Malene’s direction. “I’ll teach you how to be a real winner.”
Malene’s mouth opened to reply, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “That’s enough. We don’t need every one of us getting into a fight at this contest.”
“Who else has been fighting? Has Norma Ray punched someone out for their basket of apples?”
“No,” I answered, shocked. “Why would she do that?”
“Oh, well, she’s done it before.”
“This is not the friendly competition that I thought it was.”
“Chicken,” Malene explained, “there’s nothing friendly about apple picking. This whole thing is war.”
“So I see,” I mumbled. “Let’s finish up. We want to win this thing, don’t we?”
Malene nodded firmly. “Indeed we do. Come on. I’ve got a basket of apples hidden somewhere.”
I quirked a brow. “Hidden?”
She smiled. “Yep. I came last night and picked to get us ahead.”
“You mean that you cheated.”
“I only wanted a leg up. Let’s find them before someone else does and turns them in.”
Oh great. This competition was turning into a bigger hassle than I had anticipated. What would happen next, murder?
It was a question that I never should have asked.
Chapter 12
“And the award for most apples picked goes to,” Dooley Hutto announced with a rapt crowd in front of him, “Leola Vass!”
An unenthusiastic applause followed. Apparently no one was impressed that Leola had won—again.
Leola hugged Dooley and raised her arms in victory for the audience.
“How?” I asked. “How did she win again?”
Rufus crossed his arms. “She has a unique technique. I’ll give her that.”
“Are you kidding me?”
He shook his head. “She showed me what she does. It isn’t a secret.”
“What’s that?”
He looked bashfully away. “She made me promise not to tell.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“You can’t not tell me.”
