Murder By Muffin, page 4
part #3 of Whispering Bay Mystery Series
Not that it’s an excuse. Or that I forgive her for kicking me off the show. Or that I’m just going to sit back and accept it all, either.
She greedily finishes off the muffin. “Before you go, can I ask you a question? That whole business with El Tigre and the FBI—how did you do it?”
My Spidey sense shakes its finger at me. This is the kind of question that could get me in trouble. If I answered it honestly, that is. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve cracked two cases that trained FBI agents haven’t been able to solve. What do you have that they don’t?”
Paco looks up at me with his how-are-you-gonna-answer-that face.
A dog that sees ghosts, for one thing.
“I guess I was just in the right place at the right time,” I say.
She narrows her eyes. “That’s it?”
“Well … I’m pretty intuitive when it comes to reading people.” Ha! If she only knew just how intuitive I really am.
“Does that mean you can tell when someone’s bluffing?”
Her question makes me sit up straight. “You mean, like in poker?” I ask carefully.
“Something like that.”
It’s not like that at all. Whatever she’s trying to get at isn’t about poker or any other game. I’m not sure what she wants to know, but I get the feeling that she’s talking about something serious here.
“Sometimes I can tell when someone’s bluffing, but not always,” I lie, because of course I can tell. Just like I can tell that something has her on edge.
“Oh.” She sounds more than casually disappointed.
“Why do you ask?”
She looks away but not before I think I see a tear slip down her cheek. I must be hallucinating because this is Tara. She doesn’t cry. She makes other people cry.
I’m immediately ashamed of myself. She’s human (sort of).
“Tara, are you in some kind of trouble?” I ask gently. “Because … maybe I can help.”
Her head snaps up. “Trouble? Why would you say that?” She brushes the crumbs off her chin. “I’m a very busy person, Lucy. I don’t have any more time for your groveling. It’s pathetic, really. You can go now.”
And just like that, it’s the old Tara. I take it back. She’s not even partially human.
Paco sticks his nose in the air as if to say, Good riddance to you too.
I leave the same way I came in. Gilly is standing by the front door, looking like it’s the end of the world. “So did she tell you?”
“That The Bistro by the Beach is off the show? Yep. I even brought her muffins. Too bad I didn’t poison them,” I mutter.
Gilly sucks in a breath. “Why would you say that?”
“Lighten up. It’s just a joke.”
“Did she seem … okay? I mean, is she in a really bad mood?”
“I’d say she’s pretty much the same as always.” Gilly winces, and I can’t help but feel sorry for her. “You don’t have to put up with her screaming and snapping at you. Stand up for yourself, Gilly.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. I mean, I really need this job. What if she … what if she—”
“Fires you?”
Gilly nods.
“Then you’ll get another job. Screw Tara. She can’t treat people like dirt and get away with it. If you don’t demand respect, then you won’t get any.”
“I wish I was brave enough to stand up to her, but like I said, I just can’t lose this job.”
“That’s too bad. Hopefully, in the end, Tara will get exactly what she deserves.”
I call Sarah and tell her what happened.
“I’m so sorry, Lucy, but I have to admit, I’m kind of relieved too. Maybe now things can get back to normal?” The hope in her voice makes me feel awful. Poor Sarah. The past week has been as stressful for her as it’s been for me.
But the thing is, I don’t want to get back to normal. I want to be on that show.
“At least tomorrow we can both sleep in,” Sarah says.
“Yeah, good idea,” I say before we hang up.
You know what else is a good idea?
A big fat juicy hamburger and a chocolate milkshake to wash down my misery. I call The Burger Barn and order takeout. When I get home, I’ll put on my most comfy PJs and eat in front of the TV. Maybe I’ll even catch up on America’s Most Vicious Criminals. Without Will.
The idea feels a bit traitorous. It’s the one show we always watch together, but tonight I want to be alone to lick my wounds. Just me, Paco, and my milkshake.
I pull into The Burger Barn parking lot, making sure to keep the windows rolled down. “I should be back in a few minutes,” I tell Paco. “If you’re good, maybe mommy will give you a French fry.” Paco wags his tail. I make a mental note to add fries to my order.
Carlos greets me at the door. “Lucy! How’s it going?”
“Not so great. Tara kicked me off the show.”
He looks taken aback. “She can’t do that!”
“She can and she did, but I’m not going down without a fight. I’m going to read my contract and see if I can find a way to stay in the show.”
“That woman,” he seethes. “I should go right over there and give her a piece of mind. Or better yet, drop out of the competition. Let’s see her try to do a show here in Whispering Bay without us.”
“Thanks, but that won’t do either of us any good.”
He shakes his head. “When I first found out about the show, I was pretty excited, but that stuff she was saying today? About making customers wait for tables just to create conflict? No way am I going along with that. I’m not about to ruin the reputation I’ve built up in the restaurant business for her ratings.”
Peggy, one of the servers, spots me. “Lucy! I just saw your order go through. It should be up in a few minutes.”
“Can you add an order of fries?” Then I think about how greedy Paco is. “Better yet, an extra-large order? Make sure the shake is large too. And don’t forget the whipped cream on top.” Hey, I might as well go all out here.
“Got it,” says Peggy.
“Lucy’s food is on the house,” Carlos tells her.
“Sure thing, boss.” She winks at me, then takes a tray of drinks over to a table.
“No need for the comp, but thanks,” I say, knowing full well if the situation was reversed, I’d do the same for him.
“I have to get back to the kitchen.” Carlos puts his hand on my shoulder and gives me a gentle squeeze. “What can I do to help with this Tara situation?
“Besides tossing her over a cliff?”
Carlos chuckles. “Somehow that image isn’t as gruesome as it sounds.”
“Like I said, I’m going to review my contract. And … knowing Tara, this might just all blow over. There’s every likelihood that she’ll call me tomorrow morning like I’m back on the show and nothing’s happened.”
“Let’s hope so.” But he doesn’t sound confident.
Carlos goes back to work, and while I’m waiting for my food, I let my gaze flitter over the dining room. The Burger Barn is located next to the bowling alley, and since it’s Saturday night, every table is full. It’s the usual Whispering Bay crowd. Young families, a few teenagers, some retirees. And—
I do a double take.
Travis is in one of the corner booths. And he’s not alone. There’s a very cute blonde sitting right across from him looking as if she’s completely smitten.
Chapter Five
Travis is on a date.
A part of me feels betrayed, but that’s silly. I’ve given him no encouragement, so why shouldn’t he take someone else out? As a matter of fact, good for him.
I try to slink my way to the front of the restaurant, but as luck would have it, he glances over, and we lock gazes. Now that he’s spotted me, I can’t very well pretend I haven’t seen him. He waves me over.
Did I comb my hair when I got up from my nap this evening? It’s probably sticking up at all angles. Not to mention those bags under my eyes. Oh well. He’s seen me looking worse.
I trudge toward his booth.
“Hello, Lucy.” Those simple words send a tingle up my spine. Travis is from Texas, and his voice has just enough twang to make it sexy. He isn’t as classically good-looking as Will, but he does have a certain … something. Plus, I’m a sucker for green eyes, so he has that going on too.
“Hello, there!” I say, trying to sound upbeat.
Travis introduces the blonde as Grace Cullen. Late twenties, blue eyes, very fit. She smiles up at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s definitely a low-calorie whole wheat and fiber muffin, although I doubt she’s been anywhere near a carb in her life.
“McGuffin? Where have I heard that name before? Please join us.” She scooches over in the booth to make room for me.
“No thanks, I just came to pick up takeout.”
Travis points to the empty spot. “Sit down, Lucy.” It feels more like an order than a request. Just on principle I should refuse, but I admit, I’m curious about this Grace person.
“Oh … all right.”
He looks mildly surprised that I didn’t put up a fight.
Grace snaps her fingers. “I know where I’ve heard your name. You’re the one who captured El Tigre.”
“Grace is a fellow cop,” explains Travis. “She works for the Panama City force.”
“I’m so impressed,” she gushes, a little too over the top. “Tell me, how did you do it?”
Travis leans forward in his seat. This is a question he’s asked me a few times, but so far I’ve managed to dodge the truth bullet.
“Just lucky, I guess. Plus, I have Paco. That’s my dog. He’s kind of my sidekick.”
“So the two of you are like Batman and Robin?” she asks.
Oh, Grace, your snark is beginning to show.
“Something like that.”
Travis’s reaction to this is completely unreadable. Which is … irritating, as well as strange. When we first met, I remember thinking he was one of the easiest people to read. When did that change?
Last week when we were in the thick of the El Tigre investigation, I broke down and told Travis that Paco was a ghost whisperer. Only he doesn’t believe it. He does, however, think that Paco is some sort of highly trained cadaver dog, which is hilarious because how many chihuahuas get trained in special ops? I don’t know anything about Paco’s first owner, but Travis is determined to find a logical explanation for the whole thing.
If Travis, who admits that Paco has special skills, won’t open his mind to the possibility of my dog seeing ghosts, then what would he say if I told him I was a human lie detector? Nope. I think I’ll keep that little secret to myself, thank you.
Grace frowns. “So you’ve never been trained in any sort of detective work?”
“The only thing I’ve been trained in is how to work my way around the kitchen.”
“Lucy’s café is part of a national TV competition about to start here in town,” says Travis. “The Bistro by the Beach? Ever heard of it?”
Grace nods enthusiastically. “As a matter of fact, I have. I hear they make really scrumptious muffins. Wait. Don’t tell me that’s you? You fight crime and make those delicious muffins everyone’s always raving about?”
Ugh. It’s a good thing I’m not diabetic or I’d be in a coma by now.
“That’s me.”
“A woman of many talents! Best of luck with the show.”
The little hairs on my neck stand up straight. What a liar.
It occurs to me that Grace is jealous. Of me. Which seems crazy.
I know I should tell them that I’m no longer part of the competition, but I just can’t. Even though getting kicked off the show wasn’t my fault, I don’t want to look like a loser in front of Travis’s date.
“So how did you two meet? Some kind of police thing?” Because like I said, I’m curious. And maybe just a teeny bit jealous of her too.
“Travis and I are both training for the Jingle Bell 10K run coming up next month. He’s a shoo-in for first place in his division, and he’s giving me some pointers.”
“So you’re like running partners?”
“Kind of. He’s helping me with my workouts, and I’m trying to help him clean up his diet.”
“Then what are you doing here at The Burger Barn?” I joke.
“Oh, they have lots of healthy choices on the menu,” says Grace. “Most places do these days. You just have to be nutritionally aware.”
Peggy comes along with a tray of food. “Let’s see, that’s a veggie burger, no bun, with broccoli slaw for you,” she says, setting a plate down in front of Grace. “And the chili, no cheese, and a side salad for Travis.” She smiles at me. “Your food is waiting for you out front, Lucy. I made sure to supersize those fry orders and put extra whipped cream on your large chocolate shake.”
Grace’s eyes go wide. I’m not sure what part of my nutritional unawareness has shocked her more, the supersize fries or the large shake.
“Oh, uh, gee, thanks, Peggy. Well, gotta run. Don’t want my food to get cold. Plus, Paco is waiting for me in the car.” I stand up, which gives Grace an opportunity to get a good look at my T-shirt.
“Fear the Muffin Top? Oh, Lucy, you’re such a hoot! I wish I could eat whatever I wanted and not worry about the consequences.” There’s a gleam of something new in her eyes. Smugness. Clearly, she’s deduced that I’m no threat to her. Which I’m not. If she wants Travis, she can have him.
I pick up my food from the hostess, making sure to leave a tip for Peggy, then Paco and I head back to The Bistro. As usual, I park my car in the back parking lot that faces the gulf. The temperature is mild, but the wind coming off the water makes it feel nippy. I’m already looking forward to putting on my PJs and snuggling with Paco on the couch.
Peggy must have really supersized those fries, because my bag is too bulky to maneuver easily. With my milkshake and the bag of food in one hand and Paco’s leash in the other, I barely manage to open the kitchen door. Using the back of my foot, I slam the door shut and dump everything onto the counter. Paco pants in anticipation. I know I’m not supposed to give him human food, but surely a couple of fries can’t hurt.
Tomorrow is Sunday and The Bistro is closed, so I don’t have to do any prep work, and since we’ve been eliminated from the show, I don’t have to worry about the cameras or any more of Tara’s demands.
Maybe Sarah is right. Maybe getting kicked off the show was the best thing that could happen to us.
But no. I refuse to believe that. Tomorrow, bright and early, I’m going to drag out that contract and reread all the fine print. Tara can threaten to do whatever she wants, but that doesn’t mean she’s right.
I carry my food up the stairs to my apartment and change into my PJs.
Paco and I watch the latest episode of America’s Most Vicious Criminals while I stuff my face. This episode is about the unsolved murder of this poor B-grade actor who was stabbed to death in his own home. The LA police department is completely stumped. Despite a huge blood trail, they haven’t been able to figure out who might have done it. There’s no prime suspect, no motive. Nothing.
On a whim, I pick up my phone to call Will. That’s when I notice I have a missed call from Tara. The time matches when I was at The Burger Barn, which means she called me after I went by her place. Could she have changed her mind about kicking me off the show?
My heart slams up against my ribs.
I’m back on the show! Otherwise, why call me?
I dial Tara back, but it goes to voice mail. I think about leaving a message, but I’m afraid I’ll say something stupid that will make her change her mind again, so I hang up. I’ll call her later. Meanwhile, I’ll get Will’s opinion on this stabbing case.
He picks up right away. “Hey, did you get some sleep?”
“Yep. I took a three-hour nap. And then I went to see Tara to apologize.”
“What did she say?”
“She’s kicking me off the show.”
“You’re kidding,” Will says. “She can’t do that.”
“That’s what I say. I’m going to review my contract tomorrow. But here’s the good news. She called me about an hour ago. She didn’t leave a message, but I think it’s to tell me that I’m back on the show.”
Will doesn’t say anything.
“What? You don’t think that’s why she called?”
“Maybe she called to tell you she was sorry about having to take you off the show?”
I snicker. “You really don’t know Tara, do you? Believe me, she wouldn’t waste her breath on an apology. No, I really think she’s reconsidered. Or maybe some new marketing intel came in. No matter how notorious I am right now, maybe she’s decided she just can’t pass up on the publicity. Who knows with her?”
“I hope so,” says Will, but he still sounds skeptical. “Is that why you called? To tell me about Tara?”
“Actually … okay, don’t get mad, but I’m watching last night’s episode of America’s Most Vicious Criminals.”
“That’s it. I’m coming over right now.”
I laugh nervously because he sounds serious. “I’m in my pajamas.”
“I’m your best friend. I’ve seen you in your pajamas before.”
True. Except I want to be more than best friends. Maybe Will is right. He should come over now. It would be the perfect time to tell him how I feel about him. I glance down at my pajama top. A ketchup stain stares back at me. I’ve just wolfed down a huge burger and two orders of fries (minus the ones I gave Paco) plus a chocolate milkshake. I’m so bloated I could explode. At this point, I fear my own muffin top.
An image of Grace with her smooth blond hair and tight skinny jeans pops into my head, and any idea of asking Will to come over goes out the window. When I tell Will that I’m in love with him, I’ll be nervous enough as it is. I need to look my best. Or at least I need to look somewhat tidy.
