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

“My nose got involved when you tried to frame me by sprinkling cyanide on my muffins. Whose idea was it anyway? Yours or Gilly’s?”

His face splits into a sneer. “That dumb cow. I told her not to do it, but she wouldn’t listen to me.” He presses the knife deeper against Brittany’s throat, making her gasp.

My stomach dips. Yikes. Of all the weapons in the world to threaten her with, why does it have to be a knife? They’re so … sharp-looking.

“What happened? Was it jealousy? Too much pressure from the chamber of commerce to deliver the show?”

“You people here in Whispering Bay. The Safest City in America!” he mocks. “What a joke. Tara and I had a deal. Battle of the Beach Eats was always going to be filmed in Catfish Cove. She was only here vetting Whispering Bay because she wanted to make it all look fair and square. I paid that bitch ten thousand dollars to make sure it happened.”

“Ten thousand—of your own money?”

“I borrowed it from the city’s slush fund. I would have returned it with interest once the show started airing and tourism was up.”

“So you bribed Tara to film the show in Catfish Cove with money you stole from the city?”

“You’re not listening to me,” he screeches. “That show should have been filmed in Catfish Cove from the start. It would have worked, too, if it hadn’t been for that damn pipe bursting.”

He’s losing his cool, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. One wrong move on my part and Brittany could become Marie Antoinette.

“Let me guess. When Tara told you she had to film here in Whispering Bay, you demanded your ten thousand dollars back. Only she wouldn’t give it to you, would she?”

“She laughed in my face. Said I was stupid enough to pay her and the money was hers now.”

“That must have made you mad.”

“You better believe it made me mad. A deal is a deal.”

“So you and Gilly came up with a plan to make her sick so Gilly could bring the show back to Catfish Cove.”

“Downtown is all cleaned up now. There’s no reason to film the show here, not when it was supposed to be in my town all along.”

“I understand,” I say trying for a soothing tone. “Tara wasn’t a nice person. She took your money, then double crossed you. I’m sure the courts will be lenient. First offender and all. Um, this is a first offense, right?”

“I know what you’re doing, but it isn’t going to work. There isn’t going to be any court because I’m not going to get caught.”

“How do you plan on that? What? Are you going to kill both Brittany and me?”

“Lucy, please,” says Brittany. “Don’t give this loon any ideas.”

“Yeah, Lucy, don’t give me any ideas,” he parrots. “I’ll tell you how I’m going to get away with this.” He glances wildly around the room until his gaze settles on a closet door. “In there, both of you. Now!” he roars.

“Jeez, okay, no need to yell. What are you gonna do? Lock us up in the closet? Good idea.”

Darren stills. “You’re right. Eventually you’ll both get out, and then you’ll call the cops.”

“Lucy, for the love of God, please stop making this worse,” says Brittany.

He closes his eyes like he’s thinking. When he opens them again, the smile on his face gives me the willies. He nods toward the desk. “Those muffins you brought me. Take them out of the bag.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so, that’s why!”

I have a bad feeling about this, but what choice do I have? I take the remaining two muffins out of the bag and place them on the desk.

“In the corner, over there,” he says, nodding his head toward the wall. “Open up my briefcase. Inside the inner pocket, you’ll find a vial and a syringe.”

I hold up the vial to the light. “Is this what I think it is?”