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

“Fingers crossed we win the big football game tonight.” He gazes around my kitchen. “You’re the owner of this place?”

“Co-owner. My friend Sarah Powers and I are partners, but I also live here in the apartment above the café.”

“Lucy is a brilliant baker,” Brittany gushes. “She makes the best muffins in town. Probably in the whole world.”

Darren looks impressed.

I feel myself flush. “Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“Can I try one?” he asks, reaching out for a muffin. “They smell fabulous.”

I pull the muffin tin out of his reach. “Sorry, but these need to cool. Besides, they’re a special batch just for Tara.” I pull out a container from the bottom shelf and pull off the lid to show him the muffins we didn’t sell today. “These are all fresh from this morning. Take your pick.”

He studies them carefully like he’s deciding.

I’m pretty good at matching muffins with people. Take Will. His boy-next-door good looks and sturdy character make him an apple cinnamon. Travis, on the other hand, is a mango coconut—exciting on first taste, but you can’t eat more than one without getting a sugar high.

I channel my inner baking goddess to try to figure out what kind of muffin Darren is. What I get surprises me. Zucchini chocolate chip—a muffin that blends two flavors that should never go together. I’ve always thought of them as somewhat flashy and unpredictable.

He looks over the variety of muffins, inspecting them carefully, then pulls out a boring blueberry. I only make blueberry muffins because it’s expected of me. I find them completely uninspiring. I study Darren’s features again. He’s the sort of man that you’d never notice in a crowd. I suppose the blueberry makes sense.

“Delicious,” he says between bites.

Paco sits and raises a paw in the air, capturing Darren’s attention. “Who do we have here?”

“Paco, stop begging,” I scold. “Sorry,” I say to Darren. “This is my dog, Paco, but he knows better than to ask for food.” Actually, Paco begs for food all the time. It’s kind of cute, but I’m probably the only one who thinks that.

Darren breaks off a tiny bit of his muffin. He stealthily gives it to Paco, and I can’t help but like him for it. Paco gobbles it down like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“How are things in Catfish Cove?” Will asks. “I hear it will be another few days before they’re done with cleanup.”

Darren’s expression turns grim. “Not good. A lot of the downtown businesses are struggling right now, but we should have things cleaned up by the end of the week.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” I say sincerely.

He shrugs. “It is what it is. I came over here because Brittany was gracious enough to offer us some help.”

“We’re brainstorming PR ideas that will be of mutual benefit to both cities,” Brittany says.

“Good idea,” says Will.

“So, Lucy, what do you plan to do about Tara?” Brittany asks, getting back down to it.

“Well—”

She clutches my hand. “As your best friend, I have to give you the same advice I’d give myself. You can still salvage your place on the show if yo

u apologize. Grovel. Plead. Beg. Do whatever you need to do, but you have to get back on the show, otherwise … well, she’s threatening to replace The Bistro with that new sushi bar that just opened on Main Street.”

“That place hasn’t even been open two weeks!”

“I know. It would be totally unfair to knock The Bistro out of the competition just because you had a hissy fit.”

Hissy fit? That’s not exactly how I see it, but whatever. I’m too tired to argue my point.

“I’m going over to see Tara this evening, and I’m going to throw myself on her mercy. Aided by this special batch of apple walnut cream cheese muffins, of course.”

Brittany looks uncertain. “Yes, that might help.”