Murder By Muffin (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 3)

“It’s okay,” Allie says. “We have everything we need. Don’t we?” she asks Roger.

“Sure. Go ahead, Lucy. And thanks for the interview. This is going to make a great front-page feature.”

I leave Allie and Roger to pack up their equipment, muster up a fake smile and follow Gilly down the stairs to the café with Paco on my heels. I swear, if this is another one of Tara’s foolish demands … An image of Tara being run over by an ice cream truck playing “Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead” over its PA system pops into my head.

At least now my smile is real.

Chapter Two

A handful of people are waiting for me in the dining area, Sarah included. If Tara had told me about this meeting, I would never have scheduled an interview at the same time, but it’s just like Tara to think that I’m at her beck and call.

I catch Sarah’s eye. My business partner is blond and blue-eyed and gorgeous, but today there’s a familiar weariness in her gaze reminding me that I’m not the only one burning a candle at both ends.

I recognize the rest of the people immediately. It’s the other contestants from the show. There are six eateries competing for the title of Best Beach Eat in Whispering Bay—The Bistro by the Beach, Heidi’s Bakery (which serves both breakfast and lunch), La Cantina—a terrific and totally authentic Mexican eatery, The Burger Barn, Tiny’s Pizza, and The Harbor House. We’re all as different as night and day, but Tara has reassured everyone that the competition will be handled fair and square. Besides the other contestants, the two camera guys, Pete and Alan, are here as well.

“Where have you been?” Tara snaps at me. She looks down at her nose at Paco as if he’s nothing more than a giant flea. “And is that dog tied to your hip? Do you have to take him everywhere?”

Funny. When she was here last week taking footage to see if Whispering Bay would “qualify” for the show, she found the idea of a dog in the café “hip” and totally “now.”

Before I can answer, she swats her hand through the air. “Never mind. We need to start the meeting. But before we do, maybe you can whip up some refreshments for everyone? I’m kind of hungry.”

“Sure, why not? I don’t have anything better to do, and I’ve only been up since three this morning.”

“Great. Oh, and can I have one of those apple walnut cream cheese muffins? Bu

t this time, Lucy, for goodness’ sakes, don’t forget the walnuts.”

I grit my teeth. “How about I make a batch specially for you?”

Tara’s brows nearly hit her forehead. “No need for sarcasm. We’re all tired here.”

“I’d have brought doughnuts if I’d known The Bistro wasn’t going to provide refreshments. Everyone loves doughnuts,” says Heidi Burrows of Heidi’s Bakery, who’s always showing off every opportunity she gets.

Heidi’s Bakery is our biggest competition in town. We both serve breakfast and stay open for lunch. The only difference is that she specializes in doughnuts and cupcakes, while I make muffins (a much healthier baked good, in my opinion).

“I’ll get the muffins,” says Sarah in a soothing tone. “And how about I put on a fresh pot of coffee?”

“Good idea,” says Carlos Williams. Late thirties, medium height, bald. He’s the manager of The Burger Barn. Like I told Allie, it’s my favorite place in town. Not only do they make awesome burgers, their service is impeccable.

Sarah gives me a sympathetic smile on her way to the kitchen.

“Gilly,” Tara says to her assistant, “is it too much to ask for a cup of coffee?”

“But I thought Sarah was—”

“Go help her!” she screeches. “The poor woman can’t get all the refreshments by herself. And while you’re at it, make sure you give Alan and Pete their coffee too.”

Gilly runs to the kitchen to do as she’s told.

The rest of the contestants ease back in their seats. Except for Mark Dalton, the general manager for The Harbor House, Whispering Bay’s fanciest restaurant, who checks his watch with undisguised irritation. “How long do you think this meeting will last? I need to get back to work before the Saturday evening crowd starts coming in.”

Unlike the rest of us who are dressed casually, Mark is wearing a sharp-looking suit and tie. He’s in his early thirties and very GQ-ish for little old Whispering Bay. I’ve heard rumors that all the female servers at The Harbor House (and a few of the male ones as well) have crushes on him. The camera will probably eat him up.

“This meeting will last as long as it needs to, but if you have to go, I totally understand,” says Tara in a tone of voice she’s never once used with me. Or anyone else in my presence. “Your responsibilities at the restaurant come first. I can always catch you up to speed later.”

Yuck.

Add Tara’s name to the list of people with crushes on Mark Dalton.