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

I mentally count to ten. “Guess so.” Boy, would I love to tell Betty Jean the truth. That luck had nothing to do it, but I’m not so stupid as to tell her I’m a human lie detector (or at least I used to be) just to prove a point. She orders and takes her food to a table, joining a few other members of the Gray Flamingos. Every once in a while, they glance my way and whisper among themselves. Glad I’m able to provide my customers with entertainment along with their breakfast.

I’m wiping down the counter during a temporary lull when Brittany and Darren come in. Their smiles are heavily laced with sympathy and maybe a tad of embarrassment. I sigh. “I guess you heard about yesterday’s fiasco?”

“It’s all over town, Lucy,” says Brittany. “My mother heard it from Jan over at The Piggly Wiggly who heard it from Stan at the dry cleaners who heard it from—”

“Let me guess, Heidi Burrows?”

“Yep.”

“Everyone from the show is mad at me. Not that I blame them.”

“If you ask me, they’re all a bunch of ingrates. Do you know how hard I worked to get Battle of the Beach Eats to film here in town? All that publicity down the … ” She glances at Darren, who’s looking a bit chagrined. “Oh well, our loss is Catfish Cove’s gain.”

“You mean the show is going to film in Catfish Cove?”

“Lucky for us, the pipe burst has been cleaned up,” says Darren. “So the network decided to go back to their original location.”

“Congratulations. That’s great,” I say, meaning it. If the show isn’t going to be filmed here in Whispering Bay, then I’m glad Catfish Cove got the gig.

“Today’s my last day here with Brittany,” he says. “Got to head back and help with the filming any way I can.”

“Good luck with Gilly and her crew. Wait. I thought Alan and Pete went up to Canada to work on a documentary?”

“That’s what I heard too,” says Darren. “I think Gilly is going with a different set of camera guys.” He lowers his voice. “From what I heard, those two were a bit rowdy.”

“Yeah, they did some damage to a pool bar over in Panama City. Plus, they weren’t that nice to her.”

Darren glances up at the overhead chalkboard menu. “That bacon breakfast sandwich sounds great, but you know what I want,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

“Blueberry muffin and a coffee coming up,” I say. But when I go to pull out a muffin from the bin, I discover that I’m all out of the blueberry. Considering I made three dozen fresh ones this morning, I’m left with the sad hypothesis that no one in this town has any taste.

“So sorry, but we must have had a run on the blueberry this morning. Can I interest you in a zucchini chocolate chip? Or some other kind of muffin?”

“No blueberry?” His disappointment is kind of sweet. I’ve never had a customer crush so hard on my blueberry muffins before. Maybe I should rethink my dislike of them. “I’ll take the bacon sandwich,” he says, then adds, “Remember, Lucy, if you and Sarah ever want to open up another location, keep Catfish Cove in mind.”

I fill his and Brittany’s order and hand it to them in a to-go bag. “On the house,” I say, “since it’s your last day in town.”

“Thanks! If you’re ever in Catfish Cove, come over to the chamber of commerce and say hello.”

“Will do,” I say waving them goodbye on their way out. Rusty and Travis come through the door the same time that Darren and Brittany are leaving.

I brace myself for what’s to come.

“What will Whispering Bay’s finest have for breakfast today?”

Rusty scratches the top of his balding head. “Gee, you sure are in a good mood, Lucy. Considering all the talk—”

“I’m always in a good mood, Rusty,” I interrupt. “Will it be your usual? Coffee and a lemon poppy seed muffin?”

He nods.

“And how about you, Officer Fontaine?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Maybe you can catch me after work.”

“How about now?”