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

“That’s just it. It’s this man’s word against my father’s, who isn’t here to defend himself. All I can say is that I believe my father. And I find it highly suspicious that this former partner of his comes out of the woodwork now when it’s all going to be on TV.”

I open the notebook to a bookmarked page and hand it over to Wendy. “You were right to be suspicious. Tara was paying this man five thousand dollars to come down here and discredit your father.”

Wendy silently reads the page. “So … it was all a lie! But why would this man lie for just five thousand dollars? He and my father were partners at one time. I know the relationship didn’t end well, but it seems overly malicious to me.”

“Tara promised to give his new restaurant in Brooklyn some free promo on the show,” explains Gilly. She glances around the table, where she’s met with hostile stares. “I didn’t want to go along with that. I told Tara it was wrong and probably illegal, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Did the network know what she was up to?” I ask.

“No. It was all Tara’s idea. I just wrote down the notes like I was told to, that’s all.”

I turn back to Wendy. “Did you poison Tara?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

No one says anything for a few moments.

“I guess I’m next,” says Mark. “Go ahead, ask me whatever you want. I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Curiously, there’s not much about you in the notes,” I say, wondering how he’s going to wiggle himself out of this.

“Let me tell you why,” he says. “The Harbor House is the finest restaurant in Whispering Bay. There’s no dirt on me or the restaurant because there’s none to find.”

Oh boy, this guy is good. He’s just lied to me, and I’m not getting any sort of physical reaction. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was telling the truth. Up to now, I found the idea of outing Mark’s affair with Tara distasteful, but what arrogance! His poor wife. I thought he was taking her on a cruise to make up for a guilty conscience, but clearly, he isn’t the least bit remorseful or afraid of getting caught, either.

“Oh, but there is dirt, Mark. You and I both know there is.”

He frowns. “What are you babbling about?”

“What about all those late nights you and Tara spent in your office? What have you got to say about that?”

“Who told you about those?”

“Never mind who told me. Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Absolutely nothing. We didn’t do anything illegal.”

“How about immoral?” I shoot back.

“I think someone has been eating too many coconut muffins and it’s going straight to their brain,” he says, sneering.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play it, is it? Making fun of my muffins isn’t going to hide the fact that you and Tara were having an affair.”

Juanita gasps and makes the sign of the cross.

Carlos makes a face. “Ew.”

“An affair?” Mark says incredulously. “Me and Tara? Are you insane?”

“We’re focusing on you, remember? If you weren’t having an affair, then what were you and Tara doing during all those late nights together?”

He snorts. “I’ll tell you what we were doing, Ms. Nosy Pants. Tara was grooming me for a position as the host of a new show. And not any of this two-bit reality crap, that’s for sure. I was going to host an exploration of the finest restaurants in Europe. She was helping me with my audition tape. And guess what? I would have gotten the show too, with Tara’s recommendation. So if anyone here wanted Tara alive, it was me. Now that she’s gone, I don’t have anyone at the network rooting for me.”

I wait for the hair on my neck to tingle. Or tickle. Or do something. But nope.

Uh-oh. Mark is telling the truth.