Lexy put her bowl down and Sprinkles jumped on it like she hadn't eaten in days. Lexy didn't mind-turns out cold chili isn't that tasty.

She shielded her eyes from the setting sun and squinted toward the stage. The judges were sitting behind a table and the three finalists stood before them. Her heart surged for Rat who was one of the finalists.

She strained to listen as the judges made comments on each of their dishes. Rat got extra brownie points for his cornbread.

"Yay!" Nans clapped her hand together.

The judges droned on.

"Just get on with it," Ruth muttered after several more minutes of chili talk.

"Come on Rat!" Ida yelled.

"Rat?" Jack wrinkled his forehead at Lexy who grimaced.

"Long story," she said patting his leg and her stomach flip-flopped as he took her hand in his.

Finally, the judges got down to tallying up the votes. One of the judges stood up, retrieving a giant check that had been leaning against the tent wall behind them.

"And the winner of the fifth annual Chili Battle is ..."

Lexy held her breath while the judge paused for effect.

"In honor of the late Chef Dugasse, his son, Rick Monroe!"

The field erupted in applause. Lexy, Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen clapped and high-fived each other.

"Way to go!" Nans yelled.

Helen let out a loud wolf whistle.

Ida sucked down a margarita and Lexy craned her neck to see behind the older woman wondering if she had a stash of them.

Amidst the din of the applause and whistles, Lexy thought she heard the distinctive sound of bottle rockets. The applause started to die down and she realized it was bottle rockets along with a series of loud bangs.

Jack swiveled his head around, looking at the sky. "Why are they starting the fireworks now? It's still light out."

Lexy's heart skipped and she exchanged a look with Nans remembering how the fireworks storage shed had been on fire when they'd roared off on the motorcycles.

Lexy flinched when she heard another round of loud bangs and saw flashes of light in the sky.

Jack's forehead wrinkled as he looked up. "I hope that wasn't the finale ... you can hardly see anything."

"Oh, I bet that was just a little preview." Ida giggled, sloshing part of her margarita on Lexy.

"Hey, isn't that your detective friend?" Jack pointed down toward the parking lot and Lexy swiveled her head in that direction, glad to have something distracting Jack from the fireworks.

In the parking lot, Payne and Wells were stuffing Marchesi, Brad Meltzer and their accomplice into separate police cars.

"Yes," Lexy said. "He's arresting the killer."

"So, it was that other chef?" Jack asked.

"Yep, guess so." Lexy smiled at Jack.

Jack brushed his lips against her forehead and she felt her stomach flip at the tender gesture.

"I'm so proud of you," he said.

Lexy narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Well, you're up here and the arrest is happening down there."

Lexy glanced down at the parking lot. "So?"

"So, that shows you're finally learning to leave the dangerous stuff to the police." Jack took both her hands in his. "Isn't it much easier ... and less dangerous this way?"

Lexy glanced over Jack's shoulder at Nans who made a zipping up the lips and throwing away the key' motion, then turned back to Jack.

She smiled up at him, her heart melting at the love in his eyes, her stomach suffering a twinge of guilt for not telling him exactly the whole truth.

"Yes," she said. "Yes it is."

The end.

Want to read about more of Lexy's and Nans' adventures? Get the rest of the Lexy Baker series for your Kindle: Killer Cupcakes Dying For Danish Murder, Money and Marzipan 3 Bodies and a Biscotti Brownies, Bodies & Bad Guys A Note from The Author Thanks so much for reading my cozy mystery "Bake, Battle and Roll". I hope you liked reading it as much as I loved writing it. If you did, and feel inclined to leave a review over at Amazon, I really would appreciate it.

This is book six of the Lexy Baker series, you can find the rest of the books on my website, or over at Amazon if you want to read more of Lexy's and Nans's adventures.

Also, if you like cozy mysteries, you might like my book "Dead Wrong" which is book one in the Blackmoore Sisters series. Set in the seaside town of Noquitt Maine, the Blackmoore sisters will take you on a journey of secrets, romance and maybe even a little magic. I have an excerpt from it at the end of this book.

This book has been through many edits with several people and even some software programs, but since nothing is infallible (even the software programs) you might catch a spelling error or mistake and, if you do, I sure would appreciate it if you let me know - you can contact me at lee@leighanndobbs.com.

Oh, and I love to connect with my readers so please do visit me on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/leighanndobbsbooks or at my website http://www.leighanndobbs.com.

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About The Author.

Leighann Dobbs discovered her passion for writing after a twenty year career as a software engineer. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband Bruce, their trusty Chihuahua mix Mojo and beautiful rescue cat, Kitty. When she's not reading, gardening or selling antiques, she likes to write romance and cozy mystery novels and novelettes which are perfect for the busy person on the go.

Excerpt From Dead Wrong:.

Morgan Blackmoore tapped her finger lightly on the counter, her mind barely registering the low buzz of voices behind her in the crowded coffee shop as she mentally prioritized the tasks that awaited her back at her own store.

"Here you go, one yerba mate tea and a vanilla latte." Felicity rang up the purchase, as Morgan dug in the front pocket of her faded denim jeans for some cash which she traded for the two paper cups.

Inhaling the spicy aroma of the tea, she turned to leave, her long, silky black hair swinging behind her. Elbowing her way through the crowd, she headed toward the door. At this time of morning, the coffee shop was filled with locals and Morgan knew almost all of them well enough to exchange a quick greeting or nod.

Suddenly a short, stout figure appeared, blocking her path. Morgan let out a sharp breath, recognizing the figure as Prudence Littlefield.

Prudence had a long running feud with the Blackmoore's which dated back to some sort of run-in she'd had with Morgan's grandmother when they were young girls. As a result, Prudence loved to harass and berate the Blackmoore girls in public. Morgan's eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape route.

"Just who do you think you are?" Prudence demanded, her hands fisted on her hips, legs spaced shoulder width apart. Morgan noticed she was wearing her usual knee high rubber boots and an orange sunflower scarf.

Morgan's brow furrowed over her ice blue eyes as she stared at the older woman's prune like face.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't you play dumb with me Morgan Blackmoore. What kind of concoction did you give my Ed? He's been acting plumb crazy."

Morgan thought back over the previous week's customers. Ed Littlefield had come into her herbal remedies shop, but she'd be damned if she'd announce to the whole town what he was after.

She narrowed her eyes at Prudence. "That's between me and Ed."

Prudence's cheeks turned crimson. Her nostrils flared. "You know what I think," she said narrowing her eyes and leaning in toward Morgan, "I think you're a witch, just like your great-great-great-grandmother!"

Morgan felt an angry heat course through her veins. There was nothing she hated more than being called a witch. She was a Doctor of Pharmacology with a Master Herbalist's license, not some sort of spell-casting conjurer.

The coffee shop had grown silent. Morgan could feel the crowd staring at her. She leaned forward, looking wrinkled old Prudence Littlefield straight in the eye.

"Well now, I think we know that's not true," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Because if I was a witch, I'd have turned you into a newt long ago."

Then she pushed her way past the old crone and fled out the coffee shop door.

Fiona Blackmoore stared at the amethyst crystal in front of her wondering how to work it into a pendant. On most days, she could easily figure out exactly how to cut and position the stone, but right now her brain was in a pre-caffeine fog.

Where was Morgan with her latte?

She sighed, looking at her watch. It was ten past eight, Morgan should be here by now, she thought impatiently.

Fiona looked around the small shop, Sticks and Stones, she shared with her sister. An old cottage that had been in the family for generations, it sat at one of the highest points in their town of Noquitt, Maine.

Turning in her chair, she looked out the back window. In between the tree trunks that made up a small patch of woods, she had a bird's eye view of the sparkling, sapphire blue Atlantic Ocean in the distance.

The cottage sat about 500 feet inland at the top of a high cliff that plunged into the Atlantic. If the woods were cleared, like the developers wanted, the view would be even better. But Fiona would have none of that, no matter how much the developers offered them, or how much they needed the money. She and her sisters would never sell the cottage.

She turned away from the window and surveyed the inside of the shop. One side was setup as an apothecary of sorts. Antique slotted shelves loaded with various herbs lined the walls. Dried weeds hung from the rafters and several mortar and pestles stood on the counter, ready for whatever herbal concoctions her sister was hired to make.

On her side sat a variety of gemologist tools and a large assortment of crystals. Three antique oak and glass jewelry cases displayed her creations. Fiona smiled as she looked at them. Since childhood she had been fascinated with rocks and gems so it was no surprise to anyone when she grew up to become a gemologist and jewelry designer, creating jewelry not only for its beauty, but also for its healing properties.

The two sisters vocations suited each other perfectly and they often worked together providing customers with crystal and herbal healing for whatever ailed them.

The jangling of the bell over the door brought her attention to the front of the shop. She breathed a sigh of relief when Morgan burst through the door, her cheeks flushed, holding two steaming paper cups.

"What's the matter?" Fiona held her hand out, accepting the drink gratefully. Peeling back the plastic tab, she inhaled the sweet vanilla scent of the latte.

"I just had a run in with Prudence Littlefield!" Morgan's eyes flashed with anger.

"Oh? I saw her walking down Shore road this morning wearing that god-awful orange sunflower scarf. What was the run-in about this time?" Fiona took the first sip of her latte, closing her eyes and waiting for the caffeine to power her blood stream. She'd had her own run-ins with Pru Littlefield and had learned to take them in stride.

"She was upset about an herbal mix I made for Ed. She called me a witch!"

"What did you make for him?"

"Just some Ginkgo, Ginseng and Horny Goat Weed ... although the latter he said was for Prudence."

Fiona's eyes grew wide. "Aren't those herbs for impotence?"

Morgan shrugged "Well, that's what he wanted."

"No wonder Prudence was mad...although you'd think just being married to her would have caused the impotence."

Morgan burst out laughing. "No kidding. I had to question his sanity when he asked me for it. I thought maybe he had a girlfriend on the side."

Fiona shook her head trying to clear the unwanted images of Ed and Prudence Littlefield together.

"Well, I wouldn't let it ruin my day. You know how she is."

Morgan put her tea on the counter, then turned to her apothecary shelf and picked several herbs out of the slots. "I know, but she always seems to know how to push my buttons. Especially when she calls me a witch."

Fiona grimaced. "Right, well I wish we were witches. Then we could just conjure up some money and not be scrambling to pay the taxes on this shop and the house."

Morgan sat in a tall chair behind the counter and proceeded to measure dried herbs into a mortar.

"I know. I saw Eli Stark in town yesterday and he was pestering me about selling the shop again."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him we'd sell over our dead bodies." Morgan picked up a pestle and started grinding away at the herbs.

Fiona smiled. Eli Stark had been after them for almost a year to sell the small piece of land their shop sat on. He had visions of buying it, along with some adjacent lots in order to develop the area into high end condos.

Even though their parents early deaths had left Fiona, Morgan and their two other sisters property rich but cash poor the four of them agreed they would never sell. Both the small shop and the stately ocean home they lived in had been in the family for generations and they didn't want their generation to be the one that lost them.