Banana Muffins & Mayhem Read Free Page A

Quantum was closed. She would need to use the employee door Alex had promised to leave unlocked for her. The entrance was in the back of the structure, facing the parking lot. Amy rounded the back corner of the building and headed toward the door. In the far corner of the lot, the door of the wooden fence enclosure, which hid the Dumpster, slowly swung open. Someone had forgotten to latch it. If the wind picked up, the hinges could be damaged from the door swinging wildly. She walked past the entrance door of the building. There was no sense in leaving the enclosure to break so that Alex would have something else to worry about.
    A large gray garbage bag was wedged between the Dumpster and wooden fencing. Someone had apparently missed the trash container as they were tossing in bags. She decided to deposit it into the Dumpster so that it wouldn't get left behind when the waste management truck did its rounds. Amy bent over, grabbed the end of the bag, and pulled. It wouldn't budge. What was in it—cement blocks? No wonder it didn't make it into the Dumpster. She grabbed the heavy-gauge plastic with both hands and tugged again. Instead of moving, the bag ripped open. A silver, strappy sandal fell out…attached to a woman's foot.

 
CHAPTER TWO
     
    "So that's where she went."
    Every person, from the coroner to several curious bystanders who had gathered on the nearby sidewalk, turned to look at Amy after her declaration. Okay…so she could've phrased that better. The trash bag had just been opened completely to reveal that the sandal and attached leg belonged to the very obviously dead Phoebe Plymouth. She swallowed and added, "I mean, nobody knew where she went last night. Unfortunately, this explains why she didn't show up at the wrap-up party."
    Detective Bruce Shepler, the husband of Amy's best friend, took a step closer to Phoebe's body. His shadow fell over the garbage bag, which had been extricated from the Dumpster enclosure and now lay in the middle of a nearby parking space. When the coroner sliced open the bag there was no doubt who was inside. The TV star's signature white-blonde hair was drenched with blood. She stayed frozen in a fetal position even though she had been freed from the confines of the plastic tomb.
    Amy turned away before she added vomit to the crime scene. She had seen dead bodies before, but that didn't mean her stomach enjoyed the experience. The more she gawked at the blood-covered star, the queasier she became. She wasn't a fan of horror stories—in books, on the movie screen, and especially not in real life.
    Shepler pointed to the landing in front of Quantum Media's back door. "Why don't we go over there and chat."
    A tall woman with limp dark-blonde hair tagged along as he, Amy, and Alex made their way to the cement pad. "This is Detective Lauren Foster," Shepler said as he nodded at the woman. "Since the victim was found here, I have a conflict of interest being friends with you two. Detective Foster will be taking care of this case." He gestured at Amy. "This is Amy Ridley, who found the body, and her husband, Alex. He owns Quantum Media."
    The corner of the female detective's mouth twitched. Her eyes were ice-blue and just as cold. "So you know the victim?" she asked Amy.
    "Well…I don't know her. I know who she is. That's Phoebe Plymouth, the host of the public broadcasting show Old House/New Style . She was a guest at the Cabin Fever Cure downtown yesterday—doing several presentations with local business owners and judging the recipe contest where I won one of the categories. So I did chat with her briefly while our pictures were being taken by a photographer."
    Detective Foster looked at Shepler as though he could translate the strange language Amy was speaking. Fine. She understood that all people didn't have the same interests as she did, so she could elaborate. "Main Street was blocked off yesterday for the event. There were tents set up to host craft, cooking, and home