Beach Blanket Homicide (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 1)

Am I attracted to Travis? Yes.

Am I interested in any sort of long-term relationship with him? That would be a resounding no.

“Lucy,” says Brittany, “I just spoke to Tara, and she says that the film crew will be here on Saturday. I knew it would be fast, but I’m kind of freaking out here.” She gazes around the café. “I mean, are you ready for that?”

“Relax, it will be all be fine.”

“Fine? This is the Cooking Channel we’re talking about here. We only get one chance to impress them.”

Brittany Kelly and I have a weird history. We both grew up in Whispering Bay and attended school together. Our relationship, however, got off on the wrong foot way back in kindergarten when she lied about stealing a brand-new set of paintbrushes. Being a naïve five-year-old, I told the teacher about Brittany’s lie, which got me labeled as a tattletale and earned me Brittany’s disdain for the next twelve years.

At least, that’s how I saw the situation.

Brittany viewed things differently. Apparently, all this time she’s wanted to be my friend. At least that’s what she says now.

I sigh. Talk about ironic. Here I am about to reassure Whispering Bay’s golden girl that all is good in her world. “Sarah and I are closing The Bistro early on Friday to make sure everything looks spic and span. If we aren’t picked to be on Battle of the Beach Eats, it won’t be The Bistro’s fault.”

About a month ago I auditioned to be on Muffin Wars (think Cupcake Wars), and I think I had an excellent chance to get on the show. The prize for winning is ten thousand dollars, and I could have really used it. When The Bistro came up for sale a few months ago, I didn’t have all the money I needed for half of the down payment, so Will loaned it to me. He’s pretty casual about wanting to get paid back, but I hate owing him money.

Brittany’s daddy, who owns The Harbor House, Whispering Bay’s fanciest restaurant, has a friend at The Cooking Channel who showed him my audition tape. He, in turn, showed it to Brittany. That’s when she got her big idea to enter the entire town in another one of their shows, Battle of the Beach Eats. As the PR person for the Whispering Bay Chamber of Commerce, Brittany says that she was just thinking of the entire town.

I should have been angry. I mean, there was a more than decent chance that if I’d gotten selected for Muffin Wars, I’d win the show. But I’m trying to be a good sport about the whole thing.

Battle of the Beach Eats pits all the major restaurants in a town against one another, which means if we get selected, The Bistro by the Beach will be competing with the other five places in town. The prize money is twenty-five thousand dollars and the right to be called the Best Beach Eat in town. Right now I’d really just like the twenty-five grand.

“I know I can count on you, Lucy,” says Brittany cheerfully. “Say! We should do lunch again.”

Brittany and I had lunch yesterday like regular “girlfriends.” It wasn’t as horrible as I imagined, but I don’t want a repeat anytime soon either.

“Sure.”

“Okay, when?”

“Um, maybe after the film crew does their thing? I think we’ll both be pretty busy until then.”

“Right! You’re so smart, Lucy. Call me tomorrow so we can make plans!” She blows me an air kiss on her way out.

I slump against the counter. Talking to Brittany for five minutes is almost as exhausting as spending the morning serving customers.

Sarah comes out from the kitchen and hands me two big bags. “Funny, I don’t remember the police department ever placing such a big order.”

Neither do I.

Rusty pays in cash, then he and Travis take the bags and leave.

“Whew,” says Sarah. “I’m glad things are slowing down some.” She eyes me. “Want to take a breather? You haven’t sat down all morning.”

Through the glass pane window, I see Rusty and Travis get into their squad car.

My Spidey sense slaps me up the side of the head. Or maybe it’s residual ache from the frying pan incident. Whatever. Something tells me to follow them, and if I’ve learned anything in the past week, it’s that I need to listen to myself.

“Do you mind if I take an early lunch break?”

“No problem. Jill and I can handle things for a bit.”

“Thanks!” I grab a sweater and Paco’s leash. He happily jumps into the passenger seat of my VW beetle.

Since Travis and Rusty are in a squad car, it’s not hard to spot them.