Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1) Read Free Page A

neighbors.”
    “You’ll let us know if for some reason we’re not safe or if there is anything else we should be doing?” Penelope asked.
    “Of course,” he said. “You have an alarm system, so I’d advise you to keep it on at all times. If you see anyone suspicious or anything out of the ordinary, call us right away. Here’s my card.” He slipped two white business cards onto the island, one for each of them. “You’ve got a private security company that patrols this neighborhood and we’ll brief them, let them know to be on the lookout and report anything suspicious. And we’ll keep a presence in the neighborhood until we know what we’re dealing with.”
    Penelope picked up his business card. “Joey Baglioni. From down the block?”
    Joey smiled. “Yep, that’s me, Penny Blue.”
    “We grew up together,” Penelope said to Arlena. She couldn’t believe the homicide detective standing in her kitchen was her friend and neighbor from grade school. “Wow, you’re a detective now?”
    He nodded. “I thought I recognized you when I first came in. It’s been a while. It’s good to see you, not under these circumstances of course.” He cleared his throat and continued, “Please, let me know immediately if anything comes to mind or if you have any concerns.”
    “Thank you, Detective,” Arlena said with a note of impatience. She glanced at the clock on the oven door. “If there’s nothing else, we both have to be on set very early…” She indicated the kitchen door with a flick of her dark brown eyes.
    “You can reach me at that number,” he said, nodding at no one in particular and heading towards the door, Officer Jenkins close behind.

Chapter 3

      
    The next morning Penelope paused for a moment to watch the first streaks of sunlight cut through the morning sky before switching on the generator behind the catering tent, which served as the dining hall on the movie set. Inside, the tent was lined from end to end with collapsible eight-foot dining tables and three hundred and fifty folding chairs, empty seats waiting for cold and tired cast and crew to come and enjoy breakfast, lunch and dinner during the day’s shoot. Penelope’s team was responsible for keeping everyone fed and happy on time to ensure filming stayed on schedule.
    Stifling a yawn, she headed to the kitchen truck parked near the tent to get the first of what she knew would be several cups of coffee. She climbed inside her custom designed food truck and slid the door closed behind her, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the two large ovens, the grated grill and flat cook-top provided. Penelope had switched everything on and made the first big urn of coffee right after she’d pulled up to the set. She filled a paper cup full of hot coffee and looked up at the menu notes above the still-shuttered service windows.
    The door of the truck slid open and Francis appeared, shivering inside his thick puffy jacket. “Morning, Boss. Sorry I’m late.”
    Penelope looked at the digital clock next to the daily menus, which read 5:14. She’d asked her chefs to be in by five so they’d have time to get breakfast ready for everyone else who were reporting to set at seven. “What happened? You’re never late.”
    “I had my alarm set for four, but it didn’t go off. And my car was buried. Sorry, Boss.”
    “Did you guys loose power here in town?”
    “Nah, I don’t know what happened. But the clocks were working,” Francis said. He poured himself a cup of coffee. “The other guys are here, I picked them up on the way. They’re already in the prep tent, cutting fruit for breakfast.”
    “Do me a favor and get a backup alarm before you go home today, or remember to set your phone to get you up. You’re going to have to hustle to get everything ready by call time.”
    “You got it.” Francis took another big sip of coffee, put his cup down and rubbed his hands together to warm them.
    “And get one of the guys to set up the