Murder Is the Main Course

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

  “Sheriff’s here to see you,” Francis said, picking up a crate of apples and heading toward the prep tent.

  Penelope put the chicken she was working with in the fridge and washed her hands, scrubbing under her fingernails to get all the raw chicken off. She stepped down from the truck and greeted the sheriff as she dried her hands on a service towel.

  “You found something for me?” Sheriff Bryson asked. He seemed cheerful today, something Penelope wasn’t used to.

  “Sure did.” She waved for him to follow her as she walked to the rear of the inn. “About a mile down the main path there. I found a stash of stolen items from the restaurant, and most importantly, Jordan’s missing hiking boots.”

  Sheriff Bryson put his hands on his belt and considered the trees. After a moment, he shrugged and said, “Guess I better take a look.”

  “Did you come by yourself?” Penelope asked with surprise.

  “Yeah,” Sheriff Bryson said, nodding. “Edie’s looking at yet another wedding spot. I’m all there is today.”

  “I don’t think you should go alone,” Penelope said.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said defensively. “I know these woods like the back of my hand. I grew up here, remember?”

  “Yeah, but whoever is hiding out there is obviously dangerous. I’ll go with you,” Penelope said, untying her apron.

  Sheriff Bryson gave her an amused glance. “A caterer for backup. That’s a new one. I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage.”

  “Wait,” Penelope said, pulling her phone from her pocket. She stepped away to have a murmured conversation and then returned. “Joey and I will both go with you. He’s police, he knows how to handle himself. It’s not safe for you to go alone.”

  The sheriff looked doubtful, but Penelope saw a glimmer of thanks behind his eyes.

  “And I know exactly where the camp is,” Penelope added, “so I’m going.”

  He nodded reluctantly and remained silent.

  A few minutes later Joey appeared, his ski jacket zipped to the top and a knit hat pulled down over his ears. Penelope had grabbed her own coat and let Francis know she was stepping out.

  The three of them headed up the forest trail, Penelope leading the way.

  “So you still think your town is safe, that nothing happens here?” Penelope asked after they’d walked in silence for a while.

  “It’s as safe as it can be,” the sheriff said, puffing a little bit. He’d quickened his pace to keep up with Penelope and Joey, who walked briskly up the path. “Everywhere can be dangerous. That’s just a reality of life.”

  As they got closer, they agreed to keep quiet and only talk if necessary so they wouldn’t alert anyone to their presence. When they arrived at the spot Penelope recognized from that morning, she stopped and pointed at the black box of wine.

  The two men nodded and made their way up the slope to the partially hidden campsite, the sheriff leading the way, pushing aside branches, with Joey close behind. They’d agreed Penelope would hang back on the path, watching the surrounding area for any movement. The woods felt abandoned, but Penelope remembered thinking the same thing earlier that morning when she first came across the camp.

  Joey and the sheriff ducked out of her sight. Penelope waited, standing still and listening to the sounds of the forest. She thought about how peaceful and serene some places were, and then she thought about Jordan’s boots and wondered how someone could do such horrible things in a place so beautiful.

  A sharp yell from the tent brought her back to full attention. Squinting at the campsite, she saw two figures wrestling just behind the tent, the flaps jerking against the taught rope strung between the trees. More shouting followed and then a heavy thud of metal, like the sound a shovel made when it hit a rock in the earth.

  “Joey!” Penelope shouted.

  There was so much commotion and yelling in the tent, she doubted anyone heard her. Penelope hesitated a second, then started up the hill toward them, ducking behind a large tree when she heard another clang of metal.

  The rustling of leaves and the crack of a branch sounded on her left and she quickly took cover on the right side of the tree, peeking out from behind. A man in a black sweatshirt and clear plastic mask was running wildly down the embankment, heading toward the path. Penelope braced herself until he came level with her tree.

  Right as he passed, Penelope stepped out behind him and shoved him between his shoulder blades, sending him hurtling headfirst into a pine tree. The man crumpled to the ground and lay still, knocked out cold.

  Penelope took a few tentative steps toward him then nudged his leg with her boot. It rolled back and forth, but he stayed still. She put her hand to her mouth and spun around, running on shaking legs up the hill to find Joey.

  “And this is where we’ve set up catering.”

  Penelope heard Jennifer’s voice before she saw her. Her tone was uncharacteristically upbeat as she led a group of unfamiliar faces through the prep tent and past the kitchen truck. “Where is Penelope?”

  As she led Joey and Sheriff Bryson back through the set, their handcuffed prisoner shuffling slowly in front of them, she watched Francis say, “Here she comes,” while motioning toward them. Jennifer’s eyes widened when she saw Bailey in handcuffs, smirking at her, a clear mask hanging from a rubber band around his neck.

  “Penelope, Janie Levinson is here,” Jennifer said, recovering with an artificial smile. “What in the world is going on?” she mouthed as she attempted to block the view of the short dark-haired woman who was clearly in charge of the group of visitors.

  The sheriff and Joey headed off toward the parking area with Bailey while Penelope stayed behind.

  She stuck out her hand, but Janie just nodded. “Too many germs,” she said as a way of explanation. “But it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard good things.”

  Janie was petite, the down coat she wore looking more like it was wearing her. She eyed the sheriff’s back as he retreated from the set.

  “Thank you,” Penelope said. “We’ll be setting out lunch shortly. We’ve provided a few vegan options for you to choose from.”

  “Perfect,” Janie said in a clipped voice. She perused the menu on the sandwich board in front of the kitchen truck, a brief look of disgust passing over her face as her eyes scanned the meat-heavy options. She turned without a word, her team behind her, and ducked into the prep tent to inspect the inner workings of the kitchen.

  “She’s making me nervous,” Jennifer said, reverting to her normal tone of voice, which was more of an irritated hiss. “Where were you?”

  “Catching a thief,” Penelope said quietly.

  “Good thing you came back in time. This is an important day,” Jennifer said, throwing a worried glance at the tent.

  “Don’t make more out of it than it is,” Penelope said. “I was helping the sheriff. That’s important too.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Jennifer said, her irritation growing. “You’ll get a job right after this one. This could be my last chance of getting hired on a wide-release film.”

  Penelope stayed silent to avoid another biting remark.

  “That woman has the power to pull the plug on this whole production,” Jennifer said, throwing a furtive glance at the tent. “Everyone should understand that.”

  Janine and her team emerged from the tent. “Things look good in there,” Janine said. “Let’s go and speak with the talent before lunch.” One of the men standing behind her raised his phone to take a picture of Penelope and Jennifer. “By the way, what was that we just witnessed, with the police officer?”

  “Nothing, just a local issue that’s got nothing to do with us,” Jennifer said. She started toward the event space, motioning for them to follow. “Let me show you the main set. I think you’ll be happy with the design.”

  Sk
ylar sidled up to Penelope, grasping a cup of tea in her hand. “Who was that?” she asked.

  “An executive from California,” Penelope said.

  “No, the handcuff guy,” Skylar said, rolling her eyes.

  Penelope could tell she was curious, but was trying to act like someone being led away in handcuffs was a daily occurrence for her.

  “I came across a camp on my run with some stolen stuff from Festa. The sheriff is looking into it,” Penelope said. She held back from sharing Bailey’s name or her more serious suspicions.

  “That was that weird guy from town,” Skylar said, nodding. “He asked me and Sarah out to the woods the other day when we were getting lunch at the diner.”

  Penelope turned to her.

  “Really?”

  Skylar nodded. “I think Sarah was into going, you know? Just for something to do since it’s so boring around here. But I was like, no way.”

  “What did he ask you specifically?” Penelope urged.

  Skylar shrugged, but became more serious when she saw Penelope’s expression. “I don’t know. He was telling us everyone hangs out there at night, drinking and stuff. But that’s not really what I’m into.”

  When Penelope asked if she remembered anything else, she said, “The guy said it’s the only place to get away from parents. Something like that. Meanwhile I’ve been away from home for years now. Like I said, there was no way I was going, so I kind of tuned him out. I told Sarah not to go.”

  “Thanks,” Penelope said with fresh concern. Remembering there were two people at the campsite that morning, she thought about what to do. She supposed it could have been Sarah, but then again, if Bailey was inviting random girls from the diner into the woods, it could be anyone.

  A thought suddenly occurred to her as Skylar wandered over to read the lunch menu. She pulled out her phone and texted Joey: “Tell Sheriff we need to check the campsite for Regina, the missing waitress.”

  Chapter 34

  Penelope sat at a table at Festa after work, reading over the résumé of the new potential chef, Paul Gustafson. He had cooked at a number of well-regarded restaurants in the Midwest and had graduated with honors from Penelope’s culinary school ten years before her. Penelope listened from the dining room as he put together a dish for her to try, the initial aromas already convincing her he could be the perfect replacement.

  Karen walked through the front door, heading directly to Penelope’s table when she saw her.

  “Karen,” Penelope said, rising from her seat. “It’s nice to see you. But I wasn’t expecting you today.”

  Karen unwound her scarf and slipped out of her coat, hanging both on the back of one of the barstools. “I know. Mom told me you were interviewing chefs, and…”

  Penelope looked at her expectantly, eyebrows raised.

  “…and I want to be considered for the job.”

  “Karen,” Penelope said, inviting her to sit down. “I had no idea you were interested. Aren’t you going back to school soon?”

  Karen settled into the chair. “I don’t want to go back to college. I want to stay here and cook at my father’s restaurant.”

  Penelope met her gaze and recognized something familiar behind her eyes. “This is the first time I’ve heard you wanted to be in your family’s business.”

  “I’ve been practicing at home, making all of my dad’s dishes,” Karen said. “My mom doesn’t agree with my decision, but working here is my dream. Please, Penelope, give me a chance.”

  Penelope wished Ava would come back out and help her with this situation. Her instinct was to let Karen audition with the other candidates, but she didn’t want to get in the middle of a family issue between Megan and her daughter.

  “Wait here,” Penelope said to her, then headed into the kitchen. She nodded at Paul, who was still working on his audition plate.

  “Ava,” Penelope said, poking her head into the office. Ava looked up at her warily, fatigue wrinkling her almond-shaped eyes.

  “What?” she said testily.

  “Sorry,” Penelope said. “I didn’t mean to bother you, but Karen is here, asking to try out for the head-chef job.”

  “Really?” Ava said, brightening.

  “Yeah, but I get the impression it’s not what her mom wants,” Penelope said.

  Ava waved her off. “If she’s here, let her try out. Can’t hurt anything.”

  Penelope invited Karen back to the kitchen and set her up at the station across from Paul, giving her identical ingredients to his and asking her to create whatever she wanted.

  “You have thirty minutes. Ava and I will blind taste your dishes and give you feedback,” Penelope said. “Good luck,” she said to Karen.

  Karen sorted through the ingredients on her cutting board, then glanced around the kitchen at the ovens, grill, the hanging pots and pans. Penelope saw her eyes land on the photos of her dad around the service window. Her expression froze in a mask of pain and sadness.

  “Hey,” Penelope said. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

  Karen cleared her throat. “No, I’m okay. I want to do this for my dad.”

  Penelope nodded and stepped back outside.

  Paul poked his head out the kitchen door and let Ava and Penelope know they were ready to serve. Ava had opened a bottle of the house red and Penelope went to retrieve the dishes. Paul smiled widely and Karen watched nervously as Penelope set down the plates. Penelope had to admit she couldn’t tell just by looking which dish had been put together by the professionally trained chef and which by the passionate amateur.

  “Thanks, chefs,” Penelope said. “Please wait in the kitchen. We’ll call you back when we’re through.”

  “Wow,” Ava said after Paul and Karen had left. “These both look wonderful.” She slid some of the pasta from each serving platter onto her own, then handed the spoon to Penelope.

  They ate in silence, taking several bites from each plate. “I like the boldness of this one, and the meatiness of this one. To be honest, they’re both excellent,” Penelope determined.

  Ava wiped a smear of red sauce from her chin. “Agreed. This is a tough choice.”

  “Karen seems very interested in the job, Ava,” Penelope said after taking a sip of wine.

  Ava nodded. “Yes, she’s always been the one kid from the family who took to the kitchen. But Megan thinks Kyle should have the restaurant passed down to him, not Karen. Kyle doesn’t appear interested. But he’s only halfway through college—they both are.”

  Penelope looked at her with surprise. “Why not hand it over to the child who really wants it?”

  Ava looped more spaghetti around her fork. “Megan wants Karen to be a teacher. She thinks both girls should be. The boys should be in the business.”

  “But what about what they want?” Penelope said.

  “I don’t know, Penelope. It’s hard to understand, but Megan is traditional when it comes to her kids and the careers she thinks they should have.”

  Penelope felt a stab of pity for Karen, thinking of her going against her mother’s wishes to follow her dream. “What did Jordan think of Karen becoming a chef?”

  Ava laughed darkly. “I don’t know. He didn’t talk about the kids much with me.”

  “That seems odd,” Penelope said.

  “Yeah. I was his work wife, he said. He didn’t talk about the restaurant at home, and he didn’t talk about home at the restaurant. Two worlds,” Ava said, taking another big bite.

  “Well, I recommend you bring Karen on as an apprentice and hire Paul as executive chef,” Penelope said definitively. It would help solve their staffing issue, and it would be the quickest way to separate herself from Festa and the drama that went along with it.

  “I think you’re right,” Ava said.

  She went to the kitchen and asked Karen a
nd Paul to join them.

  “Who made this one?” Penelope asked. The subtle flavors of the sauce were so good, they had Penelope wondering what little twist of special ingredient had been used.

  Paul raised his hand.

  “Spot on. We loved it,” Penelope said.

  Karen visibly deflated, but turned to shake Paul’s hand and congratulate him.

  “And this one,” Penelope interrupted her, “was amazing too.”

  Karen’s face lit up and she did a little jump in place. Paul patted her on the back and she gave him a grateful smile.

  “We’re offering the job of executive chef to Paul,” Ava said, excitement in her voice, “and we’d like to bring Karen on as apprentice to the head chef.”

  Penelope noted Ava’s use of the word “we,” but didn’t mind when she saw how happy it made Jordan’s daughter.

  Karen squealed with delight and almost jumped into Penelope’s arms. She hugged Ava too, rocking back and forth a few times. She even hugged Paul, who stooped down and returned the hug, keeping a respectful space between them and patting her on the back.

  “I think we know how Karen feels about our decision,” Penelope said, laughing. “What about you, Chef?”

  Paul nodded, suppressing a grin. “Absolutely. I can start almost immediately.”

  “Almost?” Ava said, a pinch of alarm breaking through the happy moment.

  “I just have to pack my things and find a place to live up here, or close by at least.”

  “No worries,” Ava said. “We’re throwing in a relocation package for you. I can find you somewhere to live in no time.”

  Chapter 35

  Penelope felt a huge sense of relief when she got back to her room at the inn. She pulled off her chef coat and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Francis had a key to her room and sometimes popped upstairs if he needed to use the computer or print out a menu, so she had gotten in the habit of securing herself in the bathroom to avoid any embarrassing encounters.