Praise for the Red Carpet Catering Mystery Series
“The Red Carpet Catering series delivers a buffet of appealing characters, irresistible movie-industry details, and tantalizing plot twists. As delicious as a gourmet meal—and leaves you hungry for more!”
– Susan O’Brien,
Agatha Award-Nominated Author of Finding Sky
“Movie lovers, this is your book! Engaging and high-spirited, Penelope Sutherland never expected that catering for the cast and crew of a top-flight movie would lead to…murder. Great fun.”
– Terrie Farley Moran,
Agatha Award-Winning Author of Caught Read-Handed
“With a nice island flavor, a nice puzzling mystery and a great cast of characters, this was a very enjoyable read.”
– Dru’s Book Musings
“A fast-paced cozy easily read and enjoyed in an afternoon...with Simmons’ picturesque writing style you can almost taste the salt in the air. Take a vacation and join Penelope.”
– The Reading Room
“Such a fun book. The characters are very likable and the writing is very well-done. Think of it as a cozy behind the scenes.”
– Booklikes
“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
“This series is so well done that you will feel as though you have just gone to a friend’s house to visit for a few hours.”
– The Reading Room
“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 of No End to Trouble
“Much of what makes this such an enjoyable new mystery is the background information on both catering and movie-making. Equally compelling is just how seamlessly author Simmons works Penelope into the investigation...this is a fun new series for readers who enjoy their theatrical showbiz mysteries with a culinary twist.”
– Kings River Life Magazine
“A fun mystery on a movie set and delightful chef with delicious sounding food….Shawn Reilly Simmons has a flair!”
– Penn State Librarian
“With a likeable cast of characters and an inside look at the movie industry, this was equally entertaining and engaging.”
– Dru’s Book Musings
“Simmons has given us quite a good beginning to a new series; she manages to create characters that are both believable and likable while weaving in small tidbits of movie-making and what is involved in catering food to a movie crew…Highly recommended.”
– Any Good Book
The Red Carpet Catering Mystery Series
by Shawn Reilly Simmons
MURDER ON A SILVER PLATTER (#1)
MURDER ON THE HALF SHELL (#2)
MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET (#3)
MURDER IS THE MAIN COURSE (#4)
MURDER ON THE ROCKS (#5)
MURDER WITH ALL THE TRIMMINGS (#6)
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Copyright
MURDER WITH ALL THE TRIMMINGS
A Red Carpet Catering Mystery
Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection
First Edition | November 2018
Henery Press, LLC
www.henerypress.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from Henery Press, LLC, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2018 by Shawn Reilly Simmons
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Trade Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-426-3
Digital epub ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-427-0
Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-428-7
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-429-4
Printed in the United States of America
For Colleen Shannon, my biggest cheerleader
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’ve always wanted to write a mystery set during the holidays, that magical time we get to spend appreciating our families. And of course, all of the great food that comes along with them!
A theme that runs throughout this series of books is family, the ones we’re born into and the ones we create throughout our lives. I’m very lucky to have a supportive family of my own that is a constant source of support and comfort along this writing journey, as well as the mystery writing community, my created family, that is always there to offer guidance and encouragement. It’s often said that writing is a solitary profession, but I’ve never felt more included within a large family than I do right now.
I’m also grateful for Kendel Lynn, Art Molinares, and Maria Edwards, and everyone else at Henery Press, for their constant championing of my books. Their enthusiasm and encouragement means the world to me.
And thanks again to all of the readers out there. You keep me going, and I can’t thank you enough.
And as always the biggest thanks goes to Matt and Russell, who help me believe that I can accomplish anything.
Love,
Shawn
Chapter 1
Penelope Sutherland stirred her peppermint mocha latte and stared out at the rush of holiday shoppers scurrying past the department store’s café. Even though Christmas was still several weeks away, and it was a Tuesday afternoon, the Manhattan store was bustling with harried-looking shoppers. Penelope crossed her legs and rotated her foot around, releasing the tension in her ankle. She’d managed to finish almost half of her Christmas shopping already, picking up a few odds and ends in the kitchen and housewares section of the store that morning that she planned to give to her staff, the hardworking chefs she employed. She thought back to her first year as chef-owner of Red Carpet Catering and the homemade jars of brownie mix with red and green bows she’d tied onto them. It was what she could afford to give after paying out holiday bonuses and the premium on their health insurance plans.
At the register in the housewares department, Penelope ordered a set of top of the line, steel-clad pans for her sous chef, Francis. Francis stood shoulder to shoulder next to Penelope, cooking on the line from the very beginning. She felt a warmth spread in her chest when she handed over her credit card to the sales clerk, imagining his face when his Christmas gift arrived.
She blew on the surface of her coffee and took a sip, savoring the minty chocolate as it slipped across her tongue. Penelope was working on mindfulness, reminding herself to enjoy small moments, flavors, feelings and experiences, ever since spending time at the end of the summer on a movie set in Vermont. The director was a yogi and had urged them all to pay more attention to the world around them. Penelope hadn’t agreed with everything he’d said, but she did see the value i
n pausing to enjoy life’s simple pleasures.
Shoppers stepped quickly past the doorway of the café grasping different sized packages and bags, the iconic name of Steiners in golden script across the red and green foil. An older man in a rumpled overcoat paused near the entrance and squinted at the menu over the counter, his arms ladened down with gift-wrapped boxes. His expression was pinched, as if trying to decide if he had time to stop. His gaze fell to Penelope and she offered an encouraging smile.
“Do you know where the handbag department is? I thought for sure the woman downstairs said it was up here on the seventh floor,” the man said, lifting the corners of his mouth in an exasperated smile. He glanced at her oversized purse slung across the back of the chair, which Penelope guessed gave her some inside knowledge of the department store’s layout.
“Second floor, I believe,” Penelope said, pointing at the floor. “This is all housewares, kitchen stuff up here. Women’s is on two, Menswear is on three.” She guessed she knew more than she thought about Steiners, after all. She had been coming to the store since she was small, with her mother most of the time. She remembered buying her first formal dress here, back when she was sixteen.
“Are you sure?” the man asked.
“Yes, I’m almost positive,” Penelope said gently. She wrapped her hands around the paper cup in front of her.
The man sighed and his shoulders sank. “Okay, thanks,” he muttered and gave her a tired smile before scuffling away. He was out of earshot before Penelope realized he was heading in the opposite direction of the escalators and would have to backtrack to get down to where he wanted to be.
“Here’s your Buck Noel,” a young woman said, thunking a box on the café table in front of Penelope. She wore a green felt elf costume complete with a pointed hat, which drooped toward her face. A fluffy white ball bounced in the center of the black frames of her glasses.
“Buche de Noel,” Penelope corrected her.
The elf sighed. “Isn’t this what you ordered?” She looked down at the shiny gold box that was shaped like a log.
“Yes, it’s right,” Penelope hurried to say. “It’s just you said ‘buck’ so...it’s a French pastry. It’s pronounced Buche.”
The girl shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “Can I get you anything else?” She tapped her foot that was encased in a red felt moccasin. The toes of them curled up toward her ankles and sported more poofy white cotton balls.
“No,” Penelope said. “I send my mom one of these every year for Christmas. They don’t have Steiners stores where they moved. Down in Florida.”
The elf glanced back at the line forming at the counter. A young man dressed in a matching red elf costume took coffee orders and pulled pastries from the case beside the register. “That’s nice. I should probably get back to help with the customers.”
Penelope smiled. “Right. Sorry. Happy Holidays.”
The elf snorted a laugh and stuck a hand on her hip. “That’s a good one. I’ll be happy when my shift is over. I’ve never seen so many people in here.”
“You work here all year?”
“No, I’m seasonal help.” The elf stomped away, avoiding eye contact with the people waiting in line as she ducked back behind the counter.
“There you are,” a familiar voice said from the café entrance.
Arlena Madison, Penelope’s best friend and roommate, strode over to her table. She had on a white cashmere coat, a wave of her sleek black hair spilling over her shoulder. She took the seat opposite Penelope and set one of the store’s large green shopping bags on the floor, then peeled off her white leather gloves.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Penelope asked.
“I wish,” Arlena said. “I still have a few things left to get. I found this for Max.” Arlena craned her neck and looked at the line that now stretched almost to the store entrance as she pulled a long thin box from the bag. She opened it and revealed a black and tan plaid Hermes scarf.
“Oh, he’ll like that. That’s just his style,” Penelope said. Max was Arlena’s half-brother, the sibling she was closest to from their father’s many children.
An espresso machine steamed behind the counter. “I’d love a cup of tea, but the line is so long,” Arlena said.
“Everywhere is busy it seems,” Penelope said. “And it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. The shopping season is so rushed now.”
“I know,” Arlena said. “But I have the time now, so I figured I’d get a head start. I’m trying to shake the perception that I’m a procrastinator.”
“Did you find anything for Randall?”
Arlena rolled her eyes. “What do you get a man like my father who literally has everything?”
Several of the tables around them began to fill up with people taking a break from shopping to sip a coffee or nibble on a croissant.
Suddenly the elf reappeared at Penelope’s side. She set down a large paper cup of hot water and a few teabags in front of Arlena.
Penelope and Arlena gazed at her as her cheeks reddened. “Um, I hope you don’t mind. I’m a big fan.”
Arlena smiled. “Well, thank you. I’m always happy to meet a fan. How did you know I prefer tea?”
“I read that about you in an article once. I assumed it wasn’t fake news.”
Arlena smiled. “It’s a fact, I prefer tea. Always have.”
A few people in the line turned to watch the exchange, interested but wary glances on their faces, ready to call foul if the elf strayed too long from her duties behind the counter. Penelope could see a few of them recognized Arlena, but being typical New Yorkers, they wouldn’t acknowledge they did in order to maintain their “seen it all” personas.
“Could I get your autograph? I’ve seen all your movies,” the elf stammered. She swiped at the fuzzy ball that was perched in the center of her dark framed, hipster glasses and pulled a pen and store napkin from her apron.
“Sure,” Arlena said. She spread the napkin on the table and signed it carefully, so as not to rip it. “What’s your name?”
“Chamaya,” the elf said. Arlena glanced back up at the elf and raised her eyebrows in question.
“C-H-A-M-A-Y-A. I graduated from Anderson, the performing arts high school two years ago. I’m auditioning for everything I can now. I’ll take anything at this point.”
“That’s great,” Arlena said, scrawling on the napkin.
“Do you have any tips for someone like me, just starting out?” Chamaya said, biting her lip. A man in line behind her cleared his throat loudly. Penelope glanced at the elf behind the counter, who was hustling to keep the line moving.
Arlena handed the napkin and pen back to Chamaya. “The best advice I can give you is to stay positive, go after the roles that interest you, and don’t do anything you feel goes against your values. Stay true to yourself and don’t compromise your principles to please others.”
“Wow, thanks,” Chamaya said, staring down at the napkin. “It’s hard getting the rejections. You know. Well, you kind of had the door opened for you, with your dad and everything. Being from the Madison family you probably didn’t get the door slammed in your face like the rest of us.”
“Excuse me, miss?” the man from the line said. “Do you mind? Some of us have places to be.”
Chamaya ignored him. “Thanks, Arlena, for your encouragement.”
Arlena shook her head. “Anytime. Good luck to you.”
Chamaya stepped back behind the counter and the man behind them sighed with irritation.
“I found the perfect gift for you,” Penelope teased, taking a sip of her drink.
“Oh yeah?” Arlena asked, dunking her tea bag. “What’s that?”
“A really nice silver platter just like the one your career was served up to you on,” she teased. “It matches the silver spoon that was in your mouth when you
were born.”
Arlena rolled her eyes and laughed. The line began to move more quickly, and Penelope felt the tension in her shoulders ease. Even when she was enjoying a break, she always found herself observing food service workers around her, resisting the urge to jump in and help.
“Yeah, well, we all know life’s been one big cake walk for me,” Arlena said, nodding.
“Speaking of cake, I got my mom’s bouche de noel,” her eyes flicked to the gold box on the table. “Now I just have to find something for my dad, and something perfect for Joey.”
“And what are you thinking of getting for your handsome detective boyfriend?” Arlena asked slyly.
Penelope hesitated, then pressed on. “I’m not sure yet.” Penelope hadn’t told Arlena that she and Joey had been looking off and on at houses in their neighborhood in New Jersey, and that she was contemplating moving out of the home they shared. In reality it was Arlena’s house. Penelope lived there and worked as Arlena’s personal chef. Although they had become such close friends, their roles of employer and employee had blurred at the edges. Arlena was like the sister Penelope had never had.
“I was really working on getting my shopping out of the way before the Big Apple Dancers project starts up,” Arlena said.
“Me too,” Penelope said. “We still have a few more days before we have to be on set, right?” Penelope glanced at her phone, checking the date.
“It’s weird calling the theater a set,” Arlena said. “Do they call it a set when it’s a documentary?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Penelope admitted. She drained the last of her latte and wiped her lips with a napkin. “It’s my first one. We’ll have to learn all the differences between a documentary and a fictional movie.”
MURDER WITH ALL THE TRIMMINGS Page 1
