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

“Why would I need an alibi?”

Brittany glances covertly around the empty driveway. “Lucy, think how bad this looks for you. You quarreled with Tara and then she’s found dead the next morning in your kitchen.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“Of course you didn’t! But that doesn’t mean the cops aren’t trying to pin it on you. If you’re convicted, you could get sent straight to Ol’ Sparky.” At my look of confusion, she clarifies, “The electric chair! Haven’t you seen those documentaries where they didn’t use enough electricity the first round and they only partially fried the inmate? It’s horrible!”

And I thought I watched too much TV.

“Just out of curiosity, what exactly is this alibi?”

“We were having a girls’ night, silly. We gave each other mani-pedis and watched Real Housewives all night long. You never once left my sight.”

“Real Housewives Atlanta or Real Housewives New York?”

Brittany raises a brow indicating how ridiculous my question is. “Atlanta. Duh.”

A part of me is touched, but I can’t let her lie for me. Especially when I don’t need it because, after all, I’m innocent.

“Thanks. Really. But I don’t have anything to hide, and I don’t want you to get in trouble by lying for me. Okay?”

Mom must have spotted us through the living room window because she comes out to invite Brittany to dinner.

“Well … if you’re sure I won’t be intruding,” Brittany says demurely.

“Intruding? You’re practically family! Plus,” Mom adds, her eyes going all sparkly like they do when she’s trying to play matchmaker, “Will is here.”

Brittany tries to act cool, but I can see through her because it’s the same act I put on whenever anyone mentions Will’s name. My heart slumps into my stomach. It’s just as I suspected. Brittany is totally into Will. And Mom is on a mission to get the two of them together.

I have no one to blame but myself. Even now I might be able to stop it if I just speak up and tell them how I feel about Will.

But I can’t.

I’m not sure why I’m so reluctant to say the words out loud. Part of it is fear of rejection, but I’m not sure that’s totally it. I’ve kept my feelings inside for so long now that it would feel almost foreign to let them out. Plus, there was that kiss with Travis, which still has me confused. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything to anyone until I’m one hundred percent sure what I want.

When we get inside, my dad is in the kitchen putting together a salad, and Will and Sebastian are in the living room. No one seems surprised that Brittany is joining us. It’s like mom said, she’s already part of the McGuffin clan.

At dinner, the talk naturally goes to the day’s big event. Everyone speculates on the cause of Tara’s death.

“When do you think they’ll get back the autopsy report?” Sebastian asks.

Paco, who’s lying at my feet, perks up. He looks at me like he’d like the answer to that too, thank you.

“I think those things take a few days.”

“You’ll see. It’s all a big misunderstanding,” Mom says cheerfully as she passes me the noodles. “She was probably on drugs. All those TV people are. I’m sure that’s what killed her.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “That doesn’t seem like a nice thing to say, Mom.”

“Oh, I don’t mean it that way. I only saw the poor woman a couple of times around town, but she always seemed so … manic. She was probably on those crazy diet pills that act like speed. I thought the FDA outlawed them, but I’m sure you can get anything illegally if you have enough money.”

“For Pete’s sake, do we always have to talk about death at this table?” Dad grumbles.

“You’re right,” Mom says. “Let’s change the subject.” She smiles at my brother. “When do you think they’ll start working on the roof at St. Perpetua’s?”

The roof on St. Perpetua’s Catholic Church, where my brother is pastor, has been leaking something awful. He’d just organized a big fund-raiser to collect money for a new roof when a mysterious benefactor donated the entire amount. Which is awesome not just for the church but for my brother because he hates asking for money.

“We’re in the process of getting bids right now,” says Sebastian. “But I expect work will start sometime next month.”