Murder on a Silver Platter

Murder on a Silver Platter

by Shawn Reilly Simmons
Murder on a Silver Platter

Murder on a Silver Platter

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

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Overview

"Delicious! A great read written by someone who knows the behind the scenes world of filmmaking...A winner!" - Kathryn Leigh Scott, Author of the Jinx Fogarty Mysteries "Loved this book! The characters are well-drawn and it's cleverly plotted. Totally engrossing...I felt as though I was actually on a movie set. The author is well-versed in her setting and she is able to keep the reader in suspense. I can't wait for the second book in the series." - Marianna Heusler, Edgar-Nominated Author "With a likeable cast of characters and an inside look at the movie industry, this was an equally entertaining and engaging debut." - Dru's Book Musings Penelope Sutherland and her Red Carpet Catering company just got their big break as the on-set caterer for an upcoming blockbuster. But when she discovers a dead body outside her house, Penelope finds herself in hot water. Things start to boil over when serious accidents threaten the lives of the cast and crew. And when the film's star, who happens to be Penelope's best friend, is poisoned, the entire production is nearly shut down. Threats and accusations send Penelope out of the frying pan and into the fire as she struggles to keep her company afloat. Before Penelope can dish up dessert, she must find the killer or she'll be the one served up on a silver platter. Related subjects include: women sleuths, cozy mysteries, amateur sleuth books, murder mysteries, whodunit mysteries (whodunnit), book club recommendations. Books in the Red Carpet Catering Mystery Series: - MURDER ON A SILVER PLATTER (#1) - MURDER ON THE HALF SHELL (#2) - MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET (#3) June 2016 Part of the Henery Press Mystery Series Collection, if you like one, you'll probably like them all... Author Bio: Shawn Reilly Simmons is the author of The Red Carpet Catering Mysteries featuring Penelope Sutherland, an on-set movie caterer, and of the short story "A Gathering of Great Detectives" appearing in the upcoming Malice Domestic Anthology: Murder Most Conventional. Shawn 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 book store 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.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781943390571
Publisher: Henery Press
Publication date: 02/23/2016
Series: Red Carpet Catering Series , #1
Pages: 236
Product dimensions: 5.40(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.50(d)

Read an Excerpt

Murder on a Silver Platter

A Red Carpet Catering Mystery


By Shawn Reilly Simmons

Henery Press

Copyright © 2015 Shawn Reilly Simmons
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-943390-60-1


CHAPTER 1

He'd done it again. Torn off into the freezing night without a care in the world, disregarding the feelings of everyone he'd left behind, oblivious to how they would worry about him being alone out in the cold.

"Damn dog," Arlena muttered, clouds of steam puffing from her lips.

Penelope nodded stiffly, her body rigid against the cold. "You can say that again."

Their boots crunched through the sparkling white snow as they made their way down the road, ponytails swinging. One of them shouted "Zazoo!" every few steps.

Zazoo had scampered off right after the electricity went out, the outage conveniently disabling the electric doggie door in the kitchen and the invisible fence that surrounded their property. Zazoo had slipped out and his sapphire studded white leather collar didn't zap his neck as he passed over the barrier he had memorized at the edge of the lawn. After that he ran as hard and as fast as he could, his tiny little legs kicking against his belly as he scampered down the road, led only by the scents of the night and various calling cards from his canine neighbors.

"Zazoo! I can't believe he did this to me again," Arlena said. She darted her flashlight beam around as they walked. "Thanks for looking for him with me."

Penelope held her hands together in front of her mouth, wishing for warmth and breathing hot air through her mittens. "Not a problem," she said, even though it kind of was. Maybe more of an inconvenience. It was definitely the worst night and time to be out on the road. The power had been out for several hours and the snow plows had only been down the streets once or twice to push aside more than eight inches of heavy snow. Penelope had no idea how they were going to find the little Bich-Poo. Zazoo was fluffy and white, blending in with the snow, and without any functioning street lamps to guide the way, it was almost impossible to see anything. Penelope thought it was unlikely they'd find the little five-pound dog out here in the dark. It would be a miracle if they ended up finding him before he froze to death.

They heard a plow somewhere far off and both glanced towards the sound. The sidewalks hadn't been shoveled yet, so the two of them trudged down the middle of the road. A row of magnificent houses closed tight against the cold sat on their right, tall iron gates guarding their long driveways. The back end of Glendale's country club and golf course sat on their left, now just a wide open field covered in white. The moonless sky offered no help and it was difficult to see much around them. Penelope didn't want to say so out loud, but she hadn't noticed any footprints or signs of anything living.

"I can't believe he would run off like this again. I do everything for him and he takes off the first chance he gets." Arlena's big brown eyes began tearing up. Penelope couldn't tell whether her friend's tears were from Zazoo's acts of betrayal or the bitterly cold air. She didn't think Arlena's dog was smart enough to actively plan elaborate escapes. He was an opportunist at best.

"He always comes home eventually," Penelope offered, rubbing her friend's arm. Arlena's stylishly sleek ski jacket made a whooshing sound under her mitten. Arlena Madison always looked polished and put together, even in a lost dog crisis on a deserted New Jersey road. Tight black leggings hugged her calves and her feet were warmed by fur lined Michael Kors snow boots, which perfectly highlighted her long toned legs. She topped off her dog searching outfit with an on-trend knit deerstalker hat in soft pink with matching scarf and gloves. Her long black hair hung in a shiny silk ponytail and her makeup was perfection, expertly applied.

Penelope had thrown on a puffy coat also, but hers was faded red, a few seasons old and didn't fit quite right. It was actually one of Arlena's castoffs from an apparent grunge phase. She had the clothes on from when she had been comfortable in the den before they headed out: yoga pants, a slouchy sweater and big fuzzy socks. She'd been curled up in front of the fireplace in her cozy chair, a glass of wine in her hand and an Agatha Christie novel in her lap. Then the power had blown and she'd been recruited to leave the house on a dog hunt. As they headed out to look for Zazoo she'd stuffed her thickly socked feet into her well-worn, salty black snow boots and pulled a simple blue knit cap over her straight blond hair, which she'd tied in a messy ponytail at the base of her neck, never once thinking about coordinating her outfit. Penelope looked like she was heading out for a deep sea fishing excursion while Arlena could be heading to the hottest club in the city.

"Why don't I head back towards the house and you keep going? Maybe if we split up we'll find him faster," Arlena said, her words chattering out through her perfect white teeth and painted pink lips. Penelope was momentarily distracted when she noticed that Arlena's lipstick perfectly matched her hat and scarf. She absentmindedly swiped a cherry lip balm wand she found in her coat pocket across her lips.

"That's a good idea. Maybe he's already home. Watch out for cars on the road. They might not see you," Penelope warned.

"Do you want the flashlight?" Arlena asked.

"That's okay. I have a flashlight app. I'll be fine," Penelope said, waving her phone halfheartedly at Arlena.

"Thanks again, Pen," Arlena said before they headed off in opposite directions.

"Call me if you find him," Penelope said over her shoulder after she'd walked a few feet. She could feel the cold coming in through her yoga pants and wished she had taken the time to put on some long johns. Feeling her knees start to numb, she pressed on with a renewed determination to find the little yapper and get home to her fire, wine and book.

Zazoo was one of the major prizes in Arlena's latest breakup. She'd won custody of him after her split from Vance Reynolds, the A-list movie star. Arlena and Vance dated for less than two years, but that was long enough for her to net some serious time in the celebrity big leagues, walking red carpets, going to parties and vacationing in all the right places. Arlena was devastated when they split, especially since Vance wasted no time making a fresh start with a new leading lady. She insisted on keeping Zazoo, who they had picked out together when he was a puppy. Vance agreed willingly, mostly because he was headed off to a film set in Istanbul and couldn't take Zazoo along. They'd yet to work out any visitation arrangements.

Penelope reluctantly trudged on a half-mile farther and was considering giving up her search when a lump in the snow up ahead caught her eye.

"Oh no," she said under her breath. A fuzzy white puff lay motionless beneath a tree in the plowed up bank of snow at the edge of the golf course.

"Crap."

Penelope looked back towards the house but Arlena was out of sight. She stood for a moment, staring at the mound in the snow, willing it to move. Or better yet waiting for her eyes to re-focus and realize it was just a plop of snow fallen from the tree and not the dead body of Arlena's beloved dog. After a few moments of squinting and trying to make out the figure, she decided it definitely hadn't moved at all since she noticed it.

Penelope sighed and pulled her knit cap farther down on her head. She walked closer to the tree to get a better look, wishing the whole time that she had been the one to turn back towards home. She hated the idea of finding Zazoo, dead or injured, and breaking Arlena's already fragile heart.

The closer she got the more convinced she was that she was seeing the lifeless body of Zazoo, the spunky little dog who would launch himself straight up in the air over and over whenever he was happy to see someone. Penelope had never had a dog of her own but she felt she shared custody of Zazoo, feeding him his homemade organic diet regularly and walking him when Arlena didn't take him to the set dressed in one of his little doggie outfits.

"Zazoo?" she said, squinting and edging closer. "Come on, buddy." She moved in to investigate, the snow rising farther up her calves with each step. She pulled her boot up out of the snow to take one last large step towards the fuzzy lump. As she bounded forward, she tripped on a tree root buried beneath the snow, causing her to fall forward into the snow bank, her face almost landing on top of the semi-buried dog.

"Ugh!" She scrambled to get up, her thin pants soaking up the freezing moisture like a dry sponge. Her legs began to throb with the cold almost instantly. As she struggled to stand up, she slipped again, landing once more into the snow and onto something hard.

"Great," she sighed, shaking her head. She took a deep breath and reached out her soaking wet mitten to grab the dog. As she pulled, she realized too late that what she grabbed was way too light. Her arm did an exaggerated yank straight up into the air, a white puff waving at the top of her arm.

"Oh my God. Help! Help!" Penelope screamed horror-movie style, filling the cold night air and the space between her ears with a jangling chorus. She did not recognize her own voice as it bounced off of the trees into the dark nothingness just beyond. "Help!" Penelope felt her throat closing up, tightening against her cries. She lay rigid and helpless in the snow, unable to move.

Arlena came running down the road, the beam of her flashlight bouncing wildly in the dark. When she turned the bend, she saw Penelope lying face down in a snow bank, soaking wet and screaming, waving a fluffy white ski cap in the air, her face inches away from that of a dead girl's.

CHAPTER 2

Arlena and Penelope sat next to each other and shivered, both from the cold and from the shock of finding a dead girl buried in the snow outside their house. They sat on stools behind the black granite-topped kitchen island, grasping mugs of hot chocolate and shaking under the big blankets that the brusque female police officer had draped over their shoulders.

Zazoo jumped straight up in the air in the kitchen between the three of them, yapping happily.

"You were out walking your dog?" Officer Jenkins asked them. Her bottle blond hair was slicked against her skull and wrapped in a tight bun at the base of her muscular neck. She had an orange tan and smelled like cocoa butter and sea salt. Penelope glanced at the opaque white skin on her own hands, the blue veins at her wrists.

"No," Arlena sighed, her exasperation peeking through her practiced, patient public persona. "He had run off, and we were out looking for him."

"Uh-huh." Officer Jenkins made a note in her leather bound flip pad, her French manicured nails clicking against the pen. "And you two are what? Roommates? Girlfriends?" She did not look up from her pad.

Arlena rolled her eyes. "Penelope is my personal chef, and my friend. And we're currently working together on the same film in South Point."

"Your dog was here the whole time you guys were out looking for him?" Officer Jenkins said, still scribbling furiously. Her gaze bounced between the two women.

Penelope cut her eyes sideways at Arlena.

"Yes," Arlena said. "No, I mean, he had run off, but when we came back here to call you he was waiting at the back door."

"That's when the lights came back on," Penelope offered, her voice still raspy from the cold, and from screaming. She stared into her mug, watching the foam cloud on top of her chocolate change shape. She had drunk almost half of the warm liquid but realized she didn't remember tasting anything. Her mouth was as dry as cardboard.

"And you've never seen the young girl outside before?" Officer Jenkins asked. Her eyes never rested in one place for very long, so it was hard for them to figure out who she was talking to.

"I only saw a little of her, part of her face was sticking out of the snow and she was so blue." A shiver came over Penelope as she pictured the full blue lips on the girl's frozen face. "But no, I don't think so. We work on movie sets and we see hundreds of people a day, a lot of them strangers if they're extras or day players."

The radio on Officer Jenkins' shoulder lapel chirped loudly. Arlena and Penelope both jumped as if someone had slammed the door. Zazoo yelped and trotted over to his little red doggie bed in the corner of the kitchen, folding himself down gently onto the cushion. He had finally stopped barking, but he still kept his eyes trained on the action in the room.

"Detective Baglioni is here," announced a windblown male voice on her shoulder. It was one of the uniformed officers milling around outside.

"Perfect. Detective Baglioni is here," she muttered. "Roger that," she said to her shoulder as she pressed the button on the side of the radio. Penelope noticed Officer Jenkins had quite a bicep under her brown uniform shirt. And if she wasn't mistaken, fake boobs. The woman obviously spent a lot of time at the gym. And the tanning salon, based on the orange glow of her skin.

"Okay, ladies. Thank you for your statements. The detective will have some questions for you, I'm sure," Officer Jenkins said. Her frosted pink lips settled into a tight line on her tanned face, creating two sets of parentheses beside her mouth. Penelope wondered if the woman ever smiled. She certainly hadn't in front of them, even during her half-hearted attempts at comforting them.

"More questions? I don't know if I can. We both have early calls tomorrow and —"

"It won't take long, Miss Madison. We appreciate your cooperation," Officer Jenkins said, a tone of finality in her voice.

Arlena sighed and leaned closer to Penelope, shrugging farther under the blanket over her shoulders and crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Zazoo stood up on his bed and let out a series of excited yaps, the bark he reserved for anyone he didn't know who came into the house. Detective Baglioni strode into the kitchen, glancing all around the room, looking everywhere but at the two women sitting behind the granite topped kitchen island.

"Hello, Detective," Officer Jenkins said, looking at the floor. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back and she rocked gently on her steel-toed boots.

"Jenkins," the man replied.

Penelope saw his eyes move across her face and noticed the slight upturn of a smile on his lips. She got the sense of familiarity there, beyond them just passing each other in a squad room. Detective Baglioni had deep green eyes with gold flecks in them, set slightly close on his face, a strong jaw bone and a perfect nose, like the ones she'd seen on marble statues at the Met. A hint of stubble brushed his chin and Penelope absently rubbed her cheek as he spoke.

"Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, ladies. I'm Detective Joseph Baglioni." He addressed Arlena first and then he glanced at Penelope, pausing a beat to study her face. Something about the detective rang a distant bell with Penelope, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Is there anything you can think of beyond what you've told Officer Jenkins?"

Penelope glanced sideways at Arlena, who was shaking her head. "I don't think so."

A muscle twitched in his jaw and he glanced behind them at the dark wood cabinets.

"What happened to that girl? Did she get hit by a car or run over by a snow plow?" Arlena asked.

Penelope put an arm around Arlena's shoulders, worried she might get hysterical again like she did when they first found the girl. And then again when they got home and were trying to get themselves together to call the police, fumbling with the alarm and their phones and trying to quiet Zazoo's torrent of barking.

Tears crowded the corners of Arlena's eyes.

"Maybe. But there's no sign of an accident, no fresh tire marks leading to or from the snow bank. Of course a plow might have wiped any evidence of them away. It looks like she may have suffered a blow to the head. Do either of you recognize the girl from the neighborhood?"

Arlena and Penelope shook their heads again. The welling tears flopped out of Arlena's eyes and down her cheeks in pretty little streams. Penelope always marveled at how Arlena looked beautiful even when she cried. When Penelope cried, it was all red-faced and messy, definitely not film-worthy.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Murder on a Silver Platter by Shawn Reilly Simmons. Copyright © 2015 Shawn Reilly Simmons. Excerpted by permission of Henery Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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