Rolando pressed his hands and face against the glass of the store windows directly facing the parking lot. His nostrils flared as he glared at the crowd dancing around the mariachi singers playing Kenny Loggins' Footloose.

"Who knew they could play an entire eighties playlist?" Rowena asked. She was standing next to Rolando, chewing on a protein bar.

A vein in Rolando's temple throbbed. "I have enough to deal with because of Karen's murder. Did you have to ask them to play the Dirty Dancing theme song?"

"I love that song! If I ever get married, I want that song played with my husband pulling a Patrick Swayze and carrying me above his head like Jennifer Grey." Rowena looked up and grinned, imagining herself in a monstrous wedding gown.

Rolando stared at her for a few beats. "You're not kidding, are you?"

Her eyes widened. "Have you watched that movie? It's a classic! The end is my favorite part, especially when Patrick Swayze tells that guy from Law and Order, 'Nobody puts Baby in a corner.' It was the best!"

"Flores, when you say things like that, it makes me pity your future husband."

Rowena frowned before taking another bite of her protein bar. "Why?"

"Dirty Dancing is a movie," her manager reminded her.

"I know," Rowena said. "What does that have to do with my future husband?"

"A man would never tell his girlfriend's father not to put her in a corner before breaking out in a perfectly choreographed dance sequence, which includes lifting his woman into the air. You watch these movies and read your books in your book club-it's not fair to your future husband. He'll never live up to it."

Rowena's thoughts drifted to Cross. He didn't seem overly romantic.

The mariachi singers began playing Como la Flor by Selena Quintanilla. Rolando turned back to them and said, "You forget, women write most of these male characters. Real men would never think to do half the romantic gestures that women come up with."

Before Rowena could argue with him, Rolando pulled out his cell phone. "Do you think I should just call the police on them?"

"The mariachi singers?"

"Yes. They're trespassing. The only reason I haven't called is that I wouldn't want it to get out that I called. I could just pretend to be anonymous, but Clarkton is a small town," Rolando explained. His face scrunched up in thought as he tapped his phone against his thigh.

Rowena glanced around before leaning forward and lowering her voice. "I could help you with those mariachi singers... for a price."

"I will not force the rest of the team to join the book club, Rowena!"

Her head jerked back. "As if I'd sully our club with volun-told members. I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?" Rolando's hands were on his hips.

"Extra points in the beauty pageant. I need to win, Rolando. I've never been to Hawaii." She finished the last of her protein bar.

Her boss frowned and shook his head. "That would be cheating, Flores."

"Haven't you heard?" she asked. "If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying?"

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the parking lot. "Maybe I should aim a pressure washer hose on them? I'm pretty sure we have them in aisle nine."

Rowena opened her mouth to speak when a yellow Skittle came flying at her face, hitting her cheek. She whirled around to see Marcus, her shoplifting friend, beckoning her to follow him.

"Call the police but don't spray them with the pressure washer hose, Rolando. I'm pretty sure that's dangerous and would ruin their instruments. There has to be a reason they're here."

"I tried talking to them," Rolando said. "They ignored me."

"Call the cops," Rowena suggested, stuffing the wrapper of the protein bar she'd eaten earlier in her pocket. "I've got to check up on some mouse trap inventory."

She gave him a weak grin before sprinting toward Marcus and following behind him to a multi-colored aisle made up of bathroom towels.

"Marcus, you really shouldn't be here. Karen, our assistant manager, was killed. I mean, no one really liked her, but no one wanted her dead. Well, no one but her murderer. Plus, mariachi singers have been out in the parking lot all day disrupting business. Rolando is one squeeze away from popping his next problem like a teenager with a pimple problem before prom night."

Marcus grimaced. "That's gross."

"No, that's life," Rowena said. "So, what's so important that you had to waste a Skittle?" She held up the yellow candy that hit her face earlier.

"I have news," Marcus whispered. "You are my best customer, so I thought I'd share what I know."

"No offense, but I'm not really interested in learning about how to shoplift. My Uncle Javier can teach me that."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about the mariachi singers. I know who sent them."

Rowena's mouth fell open. "Someone sent them here?"

Marcus nodded. "Little Mikey sent them here as a distraction."

"Little Mikey!" Rowena shrieked.

Marcus made a shushing sound as he looked around.

Rowena lowered her voice. "Little Mikey? That makes no sense. Why would he send mariachi singers to Sweeter Homes?"

"Clearly, he thinks his gorgeous girlfriend is guilty of murdering his ex-girlfriend."

Rowena's brows narrowed. "I don't believe that. Also, you know Gina is in her fifties, right? You're young enough to be her grandson."

Marcus gave an annoyed huff. "Age is just a placeholder the greeting card companies created to force us to acknowledge birthdays and buy their expensive wares. Besides, Gina may be in her fifties, but she looks like she's in her thirties and I'd bang her any-"

Rowena leaned forward, sniffing the air, before asking, "Marcus, are you high?"

Marcus threw his arms in the air. "What?"

"Greeting card companies are not responsible for people having an age."

"If not them, then whose idea was it to assign ages to people?" the teen argued.

A corner of Rowena's mouth tilted downward. "Marcus, people naturally age, and that's counted with a number-otherwise known as their age. The greeting card companies have nothing to do with it. Besides, everyone knows greeting card companies are already responsible for Valentine's Day, Grandparent's Day, and Losing your first tooth day!"

"Losing your first tooth day? That's not real!" Marcus shouted.

"Tell that to the tooth fairy, Marcus."

Marcus shook his head. "Forget I said anything. It's not like I have a chance with a babe like Gina, anyway. I just feel like her boyfriend thinks she's guilty."

"Gina may have a colorful past," Rowena said, thinking of her friend's time as a stripper named Tipsy, "but she's a total sweetheart. She wouldn't hurt a dog. No, a cat. Wait... a bear. She wouldn't hurt a bear."

Marcus tilted his head to one side, pursing his lips. "Rowena, are you on meds?"

Rowena's eyes narrowed. "Maybe."

"The expression is, 'she wouldn't kill a fly.' It's not a dog or a bear," Marcus explained.

Rowena rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I know that, but I've seen Gina kill plenty of flies. Last year, she accidentally ran over a stray dog and had to take him to the vet. He still walks with a limp. She hates cats, so they may not be safe in her clutches. I don't think she's ever met a bear."

Marcus stared at her, aghast.

"What? You think she'd hurt a bear?" Rowena asked. "Should I change it to a giraffe? No one would hurt a giraffe."

"No," Marcus said firmly. "I know Gina is innocent because beautiful women don't need to murder anyone. They get weak men to do it for them."

Rowena nodded. "That actually makes sense."

"The other piece of news I wanted to share is important, Rowena. Whoever killed Karen did it to keep her quiet."

Rowena's brows lifted. "Really? I know Karen was obnoxious, but I don't think she deserved to be killed because of that."

"No, but word on the street is that she saw something she wasn't supposed to," Marcus explained.

"How do you know this?"

Marcus shrugged. "Word spreads fast around town. All I know is Karen saw something she wasn't supposed to and tried to cash in on it."

"You're seriously not going to tell me who your source is?"

Marcus shook his head. "Can't. If I do that, I'll be the next victim with their head in a dirty toilet. I'd rather die in my sleep."

"Why are you sharing this information with me? Why not just go to the police or to Gina?"

The teen grinned. "I know you're tight with her lawyer's brother. Besides, I can't go to Gina because Little Mikey has her tucked away. Sending those mariachi singers was a poor move on his part. It will not stop the police investigation."

Rowena nodded.

"He should trust her." Marcus frowned. "I would if she was my woman."

Rowena sighed. "Can you please stop talking about Gina like she's a potential girlfriend? It's making me feel uncomfortable and gassy."

Marcus grimaced. "Too much information, Rowena. Does being uncomfortable really make you gassy?"

"No, but the protein bar I ate earlier had a lot of fiber. So, can we move this along, please?"

"Could you stop being so uncouth?"

"Could you stop sounding like the grandmother from Gilmore Girls?" Rowena quipped.

"I pity the man you end up with," Marcus sneered.

"I'll let him know. Why didn't you go to the police?"

"The police won't believe me. To them, I'm a petty thief instead of a self-made entrepreneur."

"Marcus, you sell stolen goods at the flea market. You are a petty thief."

"Really, Rowena? If you're just going to insult me, I guess I won't share what information I know about Karen's murder."

"No, wait! I'm sorry, Marcus. You're totally an entrepreneur. I take back what I said. Now, can you please finish telling me what you know?"

"Whatever Karen saw had something to do with the pageant. Whoever killed her is related to the pageant, Rowena. You need to let Gina's attorney know something suspicious is going on with this pageant."

"Rowena!" Liam, the Howler pack's beta, called out to her. Rowena's brown eyes saw the tall shifter striding her way, his phone in hand. She turned back to Marcus, but he was gone.

"Rowena, I need your help. I need to ask you a completely random question."

"Those are my favorite type of questions," she admitted, despite her mind on the information Marcus just shared.

"I know this is going to sound crazy, but can you please tell your cousin Carmen to stop sending me nude pictures of herself?"

She turned to Liam, her brows raised. "Did you just say Carmen has been sending you dirty pictures of herself?"

He nodded. "I helped convince her to drop the charges by giving her my cell phone number the night you two almost got into a fight at the club. I thought nothing of it until she started texting me incessantly. Then the racy pictures started coming in. Now, she's sending me nude photos of herself. I blocked her number, but I'm afraid she's going to show up in person to see me."

"Is it true she has a tattoo of a dancing pickle on her hip?" Rowena asked.

Liam shook his head. "No."

"Bummer, I was really hoping to make fun of her about that in the future," Rowena admitted.

"It's a dancing hotdog."

Rowena threw her head back and cackled. "Classic!"

"I know it's a weird favor to ask, but I want it to stop. I told her I wasn't interested, but that doesn't mean send me dirty pictures of yourself."

Rowena placed a hand on the beta's shoulder. "Liam, you aren't the first man or woman who's asked me this favor. I'll see what I can do."

The two walked to the front of the store as police officers stepped inside with Rolando. The music from the parking lot had stopped.

"It looks like the mariachi singers are finally gone," Liam said.

Rowena nodded. "Rolando threatened to hose them down if they didn't leave. Marcus told me Little Mikey sent them to disrupt business and the police investigation."

"That's strange," Liam noted. "Gina isn't working today."

"No, she isn't, but Little Mikey doesn't seem like the sharpest tool in the shed. It's possible he sent the mariachi singers here. Marcus also told me there's been gossip around town that Karen saw something she wasn't supposed to see and it had to do with the pageant."

"Isn't the prize a trip to Hawaii?" Liam asked. When Rowena nodded, he rubbed his chin. "That doesn't seem important enough to kill someone over."

"Liam, people get mugged and killed for less, and you know it," Rowena reminded him, her voice tinged with sadness.

The sliding doors opened, and three women entered, causing Rowena to take a step back and gasp. Liam's jaw hardened. Coming through the doorway was a short woman with petite features and gray hair piled in a bun on top of her head. The two women accompanying her stood at her back.

"I'm looking for Rolando Sanchez," the woman with the gray hair shouted.

Rolando was still standing at the front of the store near the police officers. He turned to the stranger. "That's me. How may I help you?"

"My name is Sylvia Finch. Sweeter Homes Headquarters has sent me. I'll be the new assistant manager here." She looked around the store with a sour expression.

"They haven't notified me of any new assistant managers," Rolando muttered.

"Well, now you have," Sylvia said haughtily. "I recently recruited these two women to join the store. They'll also be taking part in the pageant. We'll need someone with beauty and class to represent Clarkton. From what I've seen, this store is severely lacking both."

"She literally just walked through the door," Rowena whispered to Liam.

"Ladies," Sylvia said, snapping her fingers. The two women standing behind her stepped forward to reveal Rowena's cousin Carmen and Cross Howler's ex-girlfriend, Angelina.

Carmen's eyes widened when she spotted Liam. Her lips curled up in a smile, revealing her lipstick-stained teeth. She raised her hand and waved her fingers. "Hi, Liam."