Free Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1) by Shawn Reilly Simmons

she come after me?”
    “You can’t know what’s going on in someone’s mind. It’s worth checking out,” Joey said.
    “We’re going to have to get to our location soon, Detective,” Sam said, glancing at his Rolex.
    “All right. I appreciate your time. All of you,” he said, looking at Penelope. “I’ll keep you updated about any progress. In the meantime, please be careful, Miss Madison. Don’t take any unnecessary chances. And if anyone or anything seems off or you feel threatened, get in touch with us right away.” He stood up and reached out a hand to Arlena, which she gently shook. “Mr. Cavanaugh.” He nodded at Sam.
    “Call me Sam.”
    “Until next time,” Joey said. “Would you mind walking me out, Penny?”
    “Sure,” she said.

      
    “Thank you for lunch,” Joey said as they walked back through the production lot.
    “My pleasure. Thanks for filling us in on Holly. I hope you find out who did this soon.”
    They passed the catering tent and stopped at Joey’s black sedan in the parking area. Joey took a step closer to Penelope and adjusted his jacket. Penelope shivered in the cold air.
    “You have my number, right?”
    “I have your card.”
    “Do me a favor and put my number in your phone. That way you can call me if anything comes to mind or if you remember anything else that might be helpful.”
    “Okay, I’ll do that.”
    “Or you can call if you have any questions about anything…about the case.”
    Penelope felt like if she said anything else she might begin to ramble. She looked up into his eyes, then looked away quickly, shifting from foot to foot as she shivered in the cold. A smile touched the corners of his mouth.
    He bent his head down towards hers and her heart skipped once. She tilted her head slightly, anticipating the brush of his lips, but instead he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “That roasted chicken was amazing. Thank you.” His lips fluttered over her ear and his stubbly cheek brushed lightly against her smooth one as he stood back up. He took a step back towards the car.
    Penelope exhaled. “You’re welcome. Thanks for stopping by.”
    “I’ll be in touch, Penny Blue,” he said, opening the car door and sliding behind the wheel.

      
    Penelope sat up front in the cab of the kitchen truck which she had fashioned into a mini office. She was trying to forget how good Joey looked and the almost-kiss by focusing on payroll and order sheets. It wasn’t working, but she plowed ahead anyway.
    Francis knocked on the glass window. She rolled it down, letting in the bitter air.
    “Hey, Francis. What’s up?”
    “I wanted to double check on tomorrow’s menu. Italian, right?”
    “As requested by Sal. You take lead and make your homemade sauce. Get it started tonight before we wrap so it has time to get really tasty overnight.”
    “You got it, Boss. Viva Italiano !” He swaggered away, his baggy chef pants and coat draped over his tall frame. Francis was the first chef Penelope had hired for Red Carpet Catering. They’d worked together on a commercial a few years earlier when they were both starting out. He was only nineteen years old then and had amazing energy, always pitching in wherever the crew needed help. And luckily he had the culinary chops too. His food was inspired. Francis was known to go home and bake Italian desserts after a long day of cooking on set and bring them in the next day for the kitchen crew to try. When Penelope asked him to join her crew, he stood up in the little coffee shop they were meeting in and hugged her, lifting her out of her chair.
    They’d built the rest of their team thoughtfully through recommendations or previous work contacts. Penelope knew she had a solid team and Francis as her Sous was her right-hand.
    The walkie-talkie chirped on the dashboard. “That’s it for today. Everybody go home,” said Sal in his New Jersey growl.
    Penelope was so glad they were finished for the day and it was still light