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

Talk about putting the cart before the horse.

“Mom, Travis and I aren’t really—”

“What Lucy means is that we’re just in the beginning phase of our relationship,” Travis ends smoothly. My face catches on fire. I was so engrossed by my parents’ conversation, I didn’t notice Travis come into the café.

“Thanks again for inviting Dad to dinner. He’s looking forward to getting to know you all. And for the record,” he adds, winking at Mom, “no one in the family is allergic to shrimp.”

“Good to know!” she says, tittering like a schoolgirl.

Travis orders coffee and a breakfast sandwich to eat here and a lemon poppy seed muffin to take back to the police station for Rusty. “I hope you’re staying out of trouble, Lucy,” he says meaningfully before joining my parents at a table facing the gulf.

The three of them quickly engage in a lively conversation. Every once in a while, Travis throws his head back in laughter. What on earth are they talking about? Knowing Mom, she’s regaling him with stories about my childhood that will only be cute to her but horrible to everyone else forced to listen.

How did I ever get myself in this mess?

By lying about being in Young Catholic Singles, that’s how.

I make myself a promise. After I help solve Tara’s murder, I’m never going to lie again.

By one, the lunch crowd has thinned out. I’m hoping things don’t pick up because this is definitely one of those days I’d like to close on time. The door opens, and in walks another customer. It’s Darren Winters. It’s the first time I’ve seen him without Brittany glued to his side.

“Hey, there! Let me guess? You want a blueberry muffin?”

“You got me. Only add a cup of coffee and a turkey sandwich along with it? I’m famished. That’s to go, by the way.”

I punch in his order, then hand him his coffee while we wait for Sarah to bag up the rest of his order. “Where’s Brittany?”

“Working on some line items on the budget. I ducked out to get a bite to eat, hoping that she’s too busy to notice I’m gone. She’s relentless. A real workaholic.”

“I imagine you must be anxious to get back to Catfish Cove.”

“You can say that again. Not that my time here hasn’t been productive, but a week is a long time to be away, especially during a crisis. And, no offense, but Whispering Bay is a little too exciting for my taste.”

“You mean Tara Bell’s murder?”

He lowers his voice. “I hear she was doing drugs.”

“Who told you that?”

“Someone at the chamber of commerce? Sorry, I’ve met so many people in the past few days, it’s hard to put names with faces.”

The hair on my neck prickles. I get the feeling that Darren knows exactly where he heard this.

“Let me guess. You heard it from Gilly Franklin.”

He flushes like he’s embarrassed to have been caught both lying and gossiping. “Did I speak out of turn? I guess it must sound pretty mean-spirited. Talking badly about someone who’s dead.”

“No worries. I think almost everyone in town has heard that rumor.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “You probably overhear a lot of interesting conversations working behind that counter.”

“I’ll say.”

“You know, Lucy, I’ve been meaning to ask, have you ever thought of expanding into other cities? Catfish Cove sure could use a place like this.”

Expand into other cities? I can’t help but feel both flattered and exhausted at the same time. I should mention it to Sarah, but I can’t imagine she’d be any more eager to take him up on it than I am. Not unless we hired someone to run the place, and I don’t see that happening. Part of The Bistro’s charm is the personal touch that only we can provide.

“Thanks, but I think Sarah and I have our hands full with just one restaurant.”