Joey chuckled. “That’s true. I’ll make it up to you. How about dinner tomorrow night?”
“That sounds wonderful,” Penelope said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I should get back in the kitchen.”
“See you tomorrow, Penny Blue.”
When she got back in the kitchen, Penelope saw that Charles had come through the back door with a wobbling stack of dinner plates, his hair and jacket covered in snow.
“Oh Charles, you’re soaked,” Paige shrieked loudly, surprising everyone around her. “Just think, two days from now we’ll be in a place where it never snows.”
Charles gave Paige a polite nod and continued to the sink. Francis jumped up from his seat to help him stack the dishes on the counter.
“I hate the damn snow,” Paige slurred from the corner, her voice lowering again. “I can’t believe we have to live in a cold snowy state like New Jersey. It’s so glamorous and romantic. And at my in-law’s tiny house on top of it.” Paige spoke to no one in particular as Penelope and her crew busied themselves around her, clearing down their stations and cleaning the kitchen.
“If we’re really lucky we’ll get a blackout like we did last time. How’s that for modern life? The minute it starts snowing the lights go out,” Paige said bitterly, sipping her wine.
Charles walked quickly over to Paige and took her wrist in his hand, his expression concerned. “Mrs. Marco, maybe you should go lay down for a while. It’s been a long day.”
“When did the lights go out?” Francis asked.
“The last time it snowed,” she said, glaring at Charles. She struggled to pull her hand from him but he held it tighter.
“I live in town and we were fine up there,” Francis said, stretching cling wrap over bowls filled with salad greens.
“I think you should go lay down,” Charles said again, attempting to take Paige’s wine glass from her. Penelope turned and watched them from the counter, surprised at Charles’ forcefulness towards Paige. Up until now she’d only seen his good natured side, and thought of him as someone who would never challenge his employer.
Penelope’s spine straightened and a wave of cold nausea rolled through her stomach. “Sal said the power stayed on up here. We lost ours for a few hours out in Glendale…” Penelope trailed off when she saw the look of panic on Paige’s face.
Paige threw her wine glass at the wall and pushed Charles aside, lunging for the knife block that sat on the counter next to her. She pulled one of the long chef knives from the block and waved it drunkenly near his face, causing him to back up from her. She spun and waved it in a wide arc at the rest of the room. Everyone froze, shock rooting them to the spot.
“Paige, what are you doing?” Penelope asked cautiously.
“You knew it was me,” she said, waving the knife at Francis. He looked at Penelope with an expression of confused fear.
“Knew it was you? What do you mean?” Penelope asked gently. Charles eased away from her along the wall toward the back door.
“Ask him, he knows,” Paige said, waving the knife again at Charles.
Penelope looked at Charles but he was watching Paige. The knife appeared to be too heavy for her wrist, which wilted the longer she tried to hold it up. The back door swooshed open and Sal entered, followed by Arlena.
“I’ve been saving this bottle for a night like—what the hell?” Sal stopped when he saw Paige waving the knife around. Arlena locked eyes with Penelope behind the kitchen island and Penelope silently urged her to stay calm.
“You. It was you too,” Paige slurred.
“What? What the hell has gotten into you? Give me that.” Sal moved toward Paige and attempted to take the knife from her, but she backed up and swung it wildly at him, slicing his hand, which started bleeding onto the floor.
“Paige!” he yelled, staring at his bleeding hand in disbelief.
Penelope reached into her chef coat pocket and discretely pulled out her phone. Hiding it below the countertop, she swiped it open and texted Joey the message PAIGE MARCO 911.
Paige started shouting, but her words ran together and it was unclear what she was saying. Penelope saw her crew shifting around uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.
Sal approached Paige again, holding his bleeding hand out to her. “Paige, listen, give me the knife. Let’s talk about this.”
“Talk about what? About your pet project that you discovered? That she is starring in?” Paige waved the knife at Arlena with renewed vigor. “You know I gave you that book, that I loved it. That it would have been a perfect project for me. But you kept me out of it, waited too long so I’d be too old. I know how you think.”
Sal raised his voice. “I told you a million times. I don’t want my wife in my movies. I won’t allow my wife in a movie where she’s going to be in bed with another man. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“The worst mistake I ever made was marrying you,” Paige spat at him. “You were supposed to make my career but you ended it. And no kids…no kids because I wanted to act. Actresses make terrible mothers, that’s what you said.” Her shoulders shrank and Sal moved away from her, looking around the room at everyone’s stunned faces.
“Paige.” Penelope eased towards her. “What happened the night the lights went out?”
Paige sighed and propped her elbow on the counter, still holding the knife in her limp hand.
“All I wanted to do was ask her,” she nodded at Arlena, “to not do my movie. This was my movie. So I went to your house to ask you nicely to go away.” She looked at Arlena and tears began to slide down her cheeks.
“I had a few drinks to get my nerve up and drove over to your house in all of that snow. It was so dark I couldn’t see anything. But I saw you, outside of your house, out in the driveway.”
“That wasn’t me,” Arlena said quietly. “That was my sister, Holly Anderson.”
“No, it was you,” Paige said, laughing. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t you. Remember, I turned you around and asked you to please, please go away and tell Sal you changed your mind about the whole thing? I told you…tell Sal you had found something else. I needed you to understand.”
Penelope moved closer to Paige, who seemed to be losing her grip on reality as the story went on.
“But you screamed at me. Told me I was crazy, called me a crazy drunk. So I hit you,” Paige said.
Sal shook his head. “Paige, what have you done?”
“Then you fell and hit your head on the driveway,” Paige continued. “I dragged you back to the car. I knew I shouldn’t have hit you. I was going to drop you off at the hospital, but you weren’t breathing. I panicked and pushed you out onto the side of the road. And I drove home.”
“She was just a kid,” Arlena said. “A girl who never did anything to you, you crazy bitch.”
Paige scoffed at Arlena, and for a moment seemed to forget she was holding the knife. Penelope took a chance and moved two steps closer to her while she was distracted. Francis inched up behind Penelope subtly, realizing that sudden movements wouldn’t be the best idea around the unstable woman.
Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope saw flashing lights approaching through the kitchen window.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me, you useless…” Sal began.
Penelope gave him a harsh stare, willing him to be quiet. She took another step closer to Paige.
Paige suddenly realized how close Penelope had gotten and her body became rigid. She sprang and waved the knife wildly at Penelope, bringing it down through the air in a large arcing motion towards her head. Arlena screamed and Penelope ducked away at the last minute, feeling the knife’s blade graze across her shoulder. Paige swayed drunkenly on her feet and Penelope saw her chance, lunging towards her and pushing her against the counter. She grabbed Paige’s wrist and squ
eezed as tight as she could until she heard the knife clatter onto tiles between their feet. Sal rushed up from the other side and grabbed Paige in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides, the blood from his hand running down Paige’s sweater.
The back door opened and a police officer stepped inside, his gun drawn and aimed at the three of them. “Everybody freeze,” he directed.
“Look, Sal, the police,” Paige said drunkenly. “What are they doing here?”
Joey spoke through the car window to the officer, instructing him to take Paige Marco into custody. After the car drove away with Paige secured in the backseat, Joey walked through the snowy backyard past all of the lingering partygoers towards Penelope. She stood on the back steps of the kitchen, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold, the shoulder of her chef coat and her t-shirt underneath sliced open. He climbed the steps and looked through the hole catching a glimpse of the thin cut across her shoulder, now held together by three butterfly bandages. He pulled her into a gentle hug, breathing warmly on her neck.
“Penny, thank God you weren’t hurt,” he said gruffly.
“I’m fine. I’m glad you got my text.” She smiled up at him. “And figured out what I meant.”
“Me too,” Joey said, releasing her but keeping his hands on her upper arms. “We’re going to have to get statements from you and your guys. Should be pretty easy to bring charges against Paige for Holly’s murder since she confessed to it in front of half a dozen people.”
“We’ll do whatever you need,” Penelope said. “Everyone is still waiting inside. Sal’s going to have to get stitches, I think, but he’s refusing to go to the hospital until he talks with you.”
“How is everyone else doing?” Joey asked.
“I think everyone is in shock. I’m just glad Paige didn’t hurt anyone else,” she said, glancing down at her shoulder. “Randall and Arlena are devastated. They can’t believe Holly turned out to be family and they never got a chance to know her.”
“This all seems pretty senseless,” Joey said.
Penelope looked up at him and her eyes became glossed over with tears. Suddenly her legs didn’t feel like they would hold her up anymore. She leaned into Joey’s chest as tears slipped down her cheeks. She watched one of the uniformed officers begin to clear the yard of party guests and a few curious neighbors who had gathered on the sidewalk to get a better look at what was happening.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Joey asked, rubbing her back.
Penny thought for a moment. “It’s so sad that Holly had to die for something that seems so pointless. Nothing about her death makes any sense.”
Joey pulled her close. “I know. These things never do.”
Penelope nodded in his arms, but wasn’t ready to look up at him yet.
“Let’s get inside. It’s freezing out here,” Joey said softly.
Penelope took a shaky breath and sighed, pulling away from him and finally feeling strong enough to look into his eyes. “I’m ready.”
About the Author
Shawn Reilly Simmons was born in Indiana, grew up in Florida, and began her professional career in New York City as a sales executive after graduating from the University of Maryland with a BA in English. Since then Shawn has worked as a bookstore manager, fiction editor, convention organizer, wine consultant and caterer. She has been on the Board of Directors of Malice Domestic since 2003, and is a founding member of The Dames of Detection. Cooking behind the scenes on movie sets perfectly combined two of her great loves, movies and food, and provides the inspiration for her series.
The Red Carpet Catering Mystery Series
By Shawn Reilly Simmons
Read all about them and/or grab the book from Amazon
MURDER ON A SILVER PLATTER (#1)
MURDER ON THE HALF SHELL (#2)
CLICK FOR MURDER ON A SILVER PLATTER
MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET (#3)
(June 2016)
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Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1) Page 20