"I'm awful sorry about how this honeymoon is-"

"Will you shush up?" Clamping harder on his wrist, she navigated through the gap at the end of the counter, pulling in her elbows to make sure nothing got toppled off, and dragged him into the kitchen. There was enough light from a utility pole for her to make out the back door, and once they got closer, to make out the key in the deadbolt lock.

In that she was steering, Kevin decided he'd better guard the flank and kept his head turned accordingly. There was no Marvel silhouetted in the doorway, his gun raised and his eyes as cold as a killer's. Encouraged, Kevin tried to report as much to Dahlia, but she shushed him again and busied herself with the key.

The door obligingly opened with nary a squeak. "Once we're outside, we'll run over to those trees," she said in a low voice. "Keep your head down unless you aim to have it blown right off your shoulders and mounted on the wall alongside that buck in the front room. You ready?"

Kevin was a little dismayed at the image she'd evoked, but he swallowed several times, reminded himself of his duty to his wife, and nodded. She began to push open the screened door. The tiny ticks seemed louder than firecrackers, but there wasn't anything they could do but grit their teeth and pray Marvel was tuckered out from all his crimes.

Still hanging on to Kevin in case he lost his nerve, Dahlia lifted her foot to step onto the concrete block steps that led to a weedy path.

The gunshot was a darn sight louder than a firecracker. The flash of light from behind the tree was followed immediately by the sound of wood splintering not more than an inch from her face. Shrieking, Dahlia instinctively flung her three hundred pounds plus backward, unmindful that she was taking Kevin with her as they crashed into a table near the door, and then in dizzyingly quick succession, into a kitchen counter, a collection of mops and brooms propped in a corner, a metal bucket, and the stove, at which point a skillet brimming with grease clattered to the floor.

A second shot came from the same direction, although at this point neither newlywed was keeping a tally. The grease splashed all over the floor, and all of a sudden they were slipping and sliding like novice rollerskaters, hanging on to each other and screeching something awful.

The next shot shattered the window above the sink and showered them with glass. "Let go of me!" Dahlia howled, too frantic to realize she was the one hanging on for dear life. "You're gonna get me killed!"

Kevin obediently attempted to jerk his wrist free, and this was enough to send Dahlia's feet out and up. The rest of her went down with a boom that made the entire café tremble. Tin cans fell off the shelves, as did coffee cups and plastic tumblers. jars of pickles and jam exploded as they hit the floor. Silverware tinkled in a drawer.

Marvel came to the doorway of the kitchen, his gun in one hand and a paperback book in the other. "I swear," he said, watching Kevin and Dahlia on the floor, "I leave you two alone for five minutes, and you take to wrestling in bacon grease. I know it's your honeymoon, but do you think you could restrain yourselves a little while longer? There're a dozen rednecked cops out there hoping to shoot me between the eyes, and I don't have time to worry about you two." He waved the gun at them. "Get off that floor and try to behave, you hear? Didn't your mamas teach you anything?"

They continued to flop on the floor, making animal noises and grabbing at each other. Disgusted, Marvel went back to the front room and watched the cops as they scurried around on the far side of the road. There was still a lot of moaning going on in the kitchen, but he decided to let them have their fun in private.

"Yes, I'm quite sure there were no bloodstains anywhere in the kitchen," I said to Ruby Bee and Estelle, neither of whom looked convinced. We were alone in the dining room, but as I paused to reiterate what I'd just iterated for the tenth time, Rick came in with a coffee urn, banged it down on a nearby table, and stomped out. Mr. Cambria, dapper in his blue uniform, appeared with a tray piled with cups, saucers, and other pertinent paraphernalia, twinkled at us, and set the tray beside the urn.

"Rickie will be back with donuts and danish," he said with a courtly little bow. "May I have the honor to serve you ladies some coffee?"

"You'd better get back to your post, Mr. Cambria," Rick said, returning with the predicted pastries. "She'll have a tantrum if we are missing a doorman, and that's the last thing we need. If everyone will cooperate, maybe we can get this contest over with and all of you can go home. These have not been my favorite few days."

Cambria put his arm around Rick and squeezed him tightly. "Rickie, Rickie-don't you listen when I tell you the importance of a good sense of humor? You young kids today, you push too hard, try to make everything happen all at once, think you can go from gardener to president in the blink of an eye. Believe me when I tell you to sit back, relax, smell the roses, or in this case, the coffee."

"How true," Ruby Bee said with a sharp look at yours truly, who hadn't intended to dispute the premise.

"There, Rick, you hear the lady?" Cambria slapped him on the cheek, then nodded at us and went into the lobby to assume his post, whistling all the while. He arrived in the nick of time to open the door for Kyle, who rushed past him without a word and came into the dining room.

"No sign of Geri?" he asked between gulps of air.

"None, but I'm sure my luck will change." Rick gave us a humorless smile as he left.

Kyle fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat down. "I talked to her an hour ago, and she agreed to come back. We've decided to skip the trial runs in the kitchen and get straight down to business this afternoon. We'll draw lots for position, and the first finalist starts at one o'clock." He took a slurp of coffee and managed to return the cup to the saucer with a lot of rattles but only a minimum of sloshes. None of us mentioned the droplets on his tie. "If we stick to the schedule, all the recipes should be ready for judging at seven tonight. I'll announce the winner, present the prize, and you people can get busy packing."

"You mean the ten-thousand-dollar prize," Ruby Bee said, softening softening the reproach with a grandmotherly smile.

"In a way." Kyle consulted his watch, then ran his hand over his hair, wiped his palm on his trouser leg, and busied himself with the remainder of his coffee.

"Shit, I wish the other contestants would get here. I called and told them to meet here at ten. It's already a quarter till. You people are on time. How hard can it be to take the elevator down one entire floor?"

"Real hard when it doesn't work," Gaylene said as she came into the dining room. She wore skin-tight shorts and a gossamer blouse, and her ash-blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "It's a good thing I didn't twist an ankle coming down those slippery ol' steps. How could I play the slots on crutches?"

It must have been a rhetorical question, in that she headed for the coffee urn without waiting for our opinions. Ruby Bee and Estelle agreed to allow me to bring them coffee and donuts, and we were all settled as Frannie and Durmond came out of the stairwell door and came across the lobby.

"That makes four-no, three," Kyle muttered, oblivious to the crumbs on his chin and lapels, and also to the smudge of powdered sugar on the tip of his nose. "All we need are Brenda and the kid, and we'll be set." He rapped his cup on his saucer. "Listen everybody, Geri should be here any minute to take charge, and please don't give her any grief. Do whatever she says, okay? She'll take you on a tour of the kitchen, at which time you can check your individual boxes to make sure you've got everything you need. The boxes will then be sealed, and no one will be allowed in the kitchen until it's his or her turn to prepare an entry. Only the contestant and Geri will be in the kitchen from that point on. As each entry is finished, it will be locked in the pantry under Geri's supervision, and she'll have the only key."