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

“So you weren’t having an affair with Tara?” asks Carlos.

“That would be a big no,” says Mark. He turns to me, his eyes blazing. “How did you come up with that cockamamie theory anyway?”

I gulp. “Um, it seems like I got my wires crossed. So sorry for that little misunderstanding,” I mumble.

He shoots me an angry look. “You should be.”

Now that I’ve eliminated all the contestants, there’s just one person left.

“I’m so sorry I had to put you all through that, but I had to make sure I was right. There’s only one person who had both motive and opportunity. Her motive? To take over Tara’s job. Her opportunity? Lots, considering she and Tara were living in the same beach house.”

Just like one of those scenes from an old detective movie, I turn to Gilly. “Did you poison Tara?” I hold my breath.

This is it. The moment of truth.

“I … ” She shakes her head.

“Well?” Carlos demands. “Did you?”

“So you did poison her,” says Heidi.

Gilly glances around the room, like she’s looking for a way out. “I don’t have to answer that. It’s insulting.”

“We answered it,” says Wendy. “So you should too.”

We all lean forward in our chairs, waiting.

Tears well in Gilly’s eyes. “I know I profited from Tara’s death, but I didn’t poison her. I’m absolutely sick that she’s gone. She was a terrible boss, but I never wanted her to get hurt. Never,” she adds vehemently.

The room goes silent.

Holy wow.

Gilly is telling the truth. She didn’t poison Tara.

But if she didn’t poison Tara, and no one else in the room did either, then … Could my Spidey sense be wrong again? Am I losing my touch? Could someone in this room be lying to me and I just didn’t pick up on it?

Everyone turns to look at me.

“If none of us poisoned Tara, then who did?” asks Wendy.

“Yeah,” says Heidi. “Your text specifically said that you knew who killed her. Are you telling me that you dragged us all out here in the middle of a workday for some sick prank?”

The expressions in the room range from embarrassment (for me) to open hostility. This is not how I expected the day to go at all.

I wince. “I guess I sort of underdelivered, huh?”

Will makes a pained face.

Paco slumps to the floor and puts his head between his paws.

Ouch. My own dog is ashamed of me.

“What about you, Lucy?” demands Mark. “What’s in that notebook about you?”

“Yeah,” says Heidi. “What was Tara going to use to make you look bad on the show? You’ve aired all our dirty laundry and conveniently left yourself out of the mess.”

Uh-oh. Now I know how the Christians felt when the Romans let the lions loose on them. A trickle of sweat runs down my back.