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

“Oh! Those are my favorite,” says Wendy.

“They’re everyone’s favorite,” says Carlos.

“It’s the fresh apple cream cheese mixture,” I say. “No one else makes them quite like I do.” Will catches my gaze and raises a brow. Right. Not here to brag about my muffins.

“I wasn’t the only one from the show who went to see Tara that night,” I continue. “Someone else came to see her as well. Possibly to quit the show—I’m not sure. The one thing I am sure of is that someone in this room killed Tara, and it wasn’t me. That same someone sprinkled cyanide on my muffins to frame me for the crime.”

“So … that’s why we’re all here?” asks Wendy.

“Yep. We’re here to get to the truth.”

Heidi snickers. “How exactly are you going to do that?”

“Remember all those notes Tara insisted that Gilly write down during all those meetings we had? Well, Gilly put those notes together in a very interesting way.”

“Lucy broke into my beach house and stole those notes,” says Gilly. “The last time I looked, breaking and entering was a crime.”

“This is ridiculous.” Mark checks his watch. “I have a business to run.” He gets up to leave.

“Hold on,” says Carlos. “I’d like to hear what Lucy has to say. I think we all would,” he adds meaningfully, causing Mark to sit back in his chair.

“It’s true. I did take Gilly’s notes, but I didn’t break into the beach house, as Gilly is fully aware. I was given permission to enter by the cleaning crew.”

“More like you tricked your way inside,” Gilly counters.

I pull out a small notebook. “Should I tell the rest of the room what’s in these notes? Or would you like to do the honors?”

“That,” she says, pointing triumphantly to the notebook in my hand, “isn’t mine. Officer Fontaine returned the notes you stole. Whatever is in that notebook wasn’t written by me.”

“Oh, but it was. I memorized the notes, but I also took the liberty of copying them for easier reference. Don’t worry, I didn’t paraphrase. I wrote it all down word for word.”

Gilly turns pale. “Those notes are private property.”

“Not when they were used to blackmail the contestants of the show.”

Mark scowls. “What are you talking about?”

“Tara was fabricating an arc for all of us. A storyline that would create, as she liked to put it, drama and conflict. No one was coming out of this show looking good. It’s all here in black and white. And it’s not pretty. Like I said, I think someone here killed Tara. You can leave if you want,” I say, letting my gaze float from Mark to the rest of the contestants, “or you can stay here and help me expose a killer. It’s up to you.”

The expressions around the table range from surprised to guilty as sin. I’ll start with surprised and work my way up.

“Juanita, did you go to see Tara at the beach house the night before her body was discovered in my kitchen?”

Juanita clutches both her sons’ hands. I feel terrible doing this to her, but I have to get to the bottom of this. “How … how did you know that, Lucy?”

“I know what Tara was planning. It’s all right here in the notebook. She was even going to do an interview with a psychologist who was going to go over signs and symptoms of dementia on the show.”

“Tara was a horrible person! And so are you,” Juanita says, pointing a shaky finger at Gilly, “for going along with her evil plan.”

“Mami, what are you talking about?” asks Luis.

?

?What was Tara planning to do to our mother?” demands Miguel.

“She was going to exploit her age and imply that Juanita was having bouts of forgetfulness. And that you two were going to take advantage of it and take over La Cantina.”

“That’s not true!” Luis roars. “Yes, Mami likes things her way, and she doesn’t always like the changes Miguel and I want to make, but we would never take away her restaurant. My mother is the heart and soul of La Cantina! Without her, it would just be a glorified Taco Bell.”