Murder Is the Main Course

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

  “Wait, I remember,” Randall said. “Sybil Wilde. You’re on that soap opera, right?”

  “Was,” Sybil said, waving a hand. “And I can’t believe you actually remember me. I had a bit part with one line in Murderous Night. I was on the set for two days, playing the hotel clerk who checks you in during the opening scene. It was my first movie.”

  “But I do remember. I never forget a beautiful face,” Randall said. He stood up and took her hand, bending to kiss the back of it. Max tossed Penelope an amused glance from behind his back.

  “Sybil,” Randall said, releasing her hand. “My son, Max, and I were just about to have dinner. Would you care to join us?”

  Sybil smiled gratefully. “That would be lovely, if you’re sure I’m not intruding.”

  “Of course not,” Randall said, not consulting Max before answering. “And this is our friend, Joey. Four is a nice round number. Let’s all of us get a table.”

  Penelope led them to a spot near the fireplace. After they were seated, Christine handed them menus and told them about the specials, her hands tucked pertly together at the small of her back.

  Penelope retreated to the kitchen to check on the chefs and let them know about the newly seated VIP four top.

  “Ava’s here,” the sous chef said as he pulled an order ticket from the machine.

  Penelope stuck her head inside the office. “Celebrity-laden table has just been seated by the fire. They’re causing a bit of a stir in the dining room.”

  “Really?” Ava said, looking up from the screen. Her eyes were puffy and she’d pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head.

  “Randall and Max Madison, my boyfriend, Joey, and Sybil Wilde,” Penelope said. “Also, we need to do a wine order. They’re low on a couple of bottles at the bar.”

  Ava sat up in her chair and pulled the elastic band from her hair, letting the dark locks spill over her shoulders. She pulled a mirror and a tube of lipstick from the desk drawer, applying the dusty-rose gloss to her lips then rubbing them together to smooth it out. “I’m going to send them a complimentary bottle.”

  Penelope was used to people acting star struck around Arlena and her family, but it still amused her when it happened. “Sure. I know they’ll appreciate that.”

  Ava brushed a few strands of loose hair from her sweater and headed to the dining room. Back at the service window, Penelope slid tickets across the silver strip, expedited orders, and dressed the plates for the servers, stepping back to the grill to sear off steaks and pork chops when needed. The kitchen hummed along with the sounds of clanging pans and low chatter, the crew moving like a well-oiled machine. Penelope glanced down the line at the chefs, dressed in crisp white, and knew for certain they didn’t need her. A head chef would eventually have to be brought in to guide them, keep the menu fresh, and create new specials, but maintaining where they were right now wouldn’t be difficult for this crew.

  After calling out the order for Randall’s table and watching Christine load up her tray, Penelope followed her out to the dining room to oversee the service. Ava was standing at the table, and Penelope watched her laugh and toss her hair over her shoulder. Her hand rested on the chair behind Sybil’s back as she listened to one of Randall’s stories.

  When the food was served, Ava stepped back, telling them to enjoy and thanking Penelope. She brushed Sybil lightly on the upper arm as she left, and Penelope watched the actress glance at her sleeve after Ava departed.

  “I’m so happy right now,” Max said, eyeing the plates in front of him. He looked hungry enough to polish off his own dinner and everyone else’s too.

  Penelope topped off their glasses, emptying the bottle of wine Ava had brought them as she listened to Christine explain their entrées. When she’d finished, Penelope carried the empty bottle to the bar and set it down. “Another of these, Jeremy.”

  “That’s not one of our usual bottles,” Jeremy said, shaking his head at the label. “Must be from Ava’s private stash.”

  “Private stash?” Penelope asked. She recognized the swan logo and the name of the wine, Cygne Reseau, as one of Denis’s brands, and thought again about the missing box of wine samples.

  Jeremy slapped a towel over his shoulder. “It’s not in my stock.”

  Penelope took the empty bottle back to the kitchen. When she saw the office door was closed, she went to knock, then paused, glancing down and rolling the green glass back and forth in her palm. She opened a cabinet below the service window and tucked the empty bottle out of sight, then headed back out to the bar to select another label for her friends.

  Chapter 30

  The next morning on the set, Penelope fought back her third yawn in five minutes, putting the back of her hand to her mouth and squeezing her eyes tight. She opted for another cup of coffee, which would be her fifth, and scanned her email inbox on her phone. Her Red Carpet Catering crew was busy setting up for breakfast, their illness-induced break over with all of the talent back on their feet again, including Arlena.

  An immense feeling of relief passed over her as she read an email from someone who wanted to try out for the head chef position at Festa. Penelope hoped he would be the one. She’d already decided the previous night was her last official shift. She was still willing to help Ava, but it was time to step back and let her handle things going forward. She thought about the empty bottle of wine now stashed in a cabinet in her kitchen truck. She didn’t know exactly what it was that bugged her about it, but something was off. At the very least, it wasn’t above board to serve wine that hadn’t been brought into the restaurant through a licensed distributor. Something like that could put Festa’s liquor license in jeopardy. Even worse, Ava had potentially lied to her about the missing case of wine. Penelope couldn’t figure out why she would do that. She’d left another message for Denis to call her the next time he checked his messages.

  She typed a quick response to the email, inviting the auditioning chef to come at his earliest convenience.

  “Penelope,” Jennifer said crisply as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the urn near the truck.

  “Good morning,” Penelope said, holding back another yawn.

  “We’ve got some suits coming through today,” Jennifer said darkly.

  “Thanks for the heads up,” Penelope said. “Lunch or dinner?”

  “I don’t know,” Jennifer said. “I get the impression they’ll be here awhile from the messages I’ve gotten. Honestly, what they want to eat is the least of my worries.”

  “Yeah,” Penelope said wearily, “but it’s good for me to know, right?”

  Jennifer sighed. “I know, Penelope. I’ll find out. Janie Levinson is the point person, the executive producer they’re sending to check on the production. She’s bringing a team, like a triage unit.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

  “Isn’t she married to…?”

  “Brock Taylor, yes,” Jennifer said, nodding. “She marries a big movie star and gets to be an EP now, I guess.”

  “I read she was producing before they met,” Penelope said. “She hired him on a project after he couldn’t get insured by anyone else because of his…”

  “Drug problems, yeah,” Jennifer said. “He’s clean and sober now, funds a treatment center for celebrity clientele. And Janie’s been optioning all the hot books lately. Bestsellers, the books everyone is talking about. It’s not like she’s uncovering obscure material.”

  “Is it true she and Brock are totally vegan, like almost religious about it?” Penelope asked.

  Jennifer shrugged. “Who cares? I just don’t want Mrs. Taylor,” she sniffed a laugh, “to decide our movie isn’t a sure bet, isn’t trendy enough to continue supporting.”

  Penelope watched her stalk away, still half talking to herself and stewing about the executive visit. Penelope had been on a few sets where the money people came through, an
d it wasn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes they just wanted to see how the set was working, if the actors were gelling, and if they were on track to get a return on their investment.

  “Each of you come up with your best vegan recipe,” Penelope said inside the kitchen truck a few minutes later.

  Francis nodded. “You got it, Boss.”

  “We’re getting an important visitor from LA. I’m pretty sure she’s strict. And let’s think of a variety of options, please. I don’t want a bunch of variations on beans and rice.”

  Chapter 31

  After filming wrapped for the day, Penelope and Joey sat at the bar of the inn having a drink and deciding what to do with their evening. Penelope had let Ava know about her decision to step back at Festa and offered to help interview the candidates for the new chef. She’d maxed out her energy level, and she was missing too much time with Joey, which was really the deciding factor.

  Joey and Penelope clinked their wineglasses and kissed as the fire crackled behind them.

  “Get a room already,” Sam Cavanaugh said behind them.

  Penelope laughed. “Sam! I’ve hardly seen you at all since you got here. How are you?”

  “I’m great,” he said, shaking Joey’s hand. “I’m glad I found you guys. Arlena’s still getting ready for dinner. We’re heading,” he waved in a general way out the window, “somewhere. Listen, did you still want to do something for her birthday? I know things are weird here right now.”

  Penelope thought about it for a minute. “I think she’d like to do something with the family. Just you guys, you know? The mood on the set is subdued, to say the least.”

  Sam nodded, agreeing with Penelope. “I’ve got something in mind,” he said, winking at her. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  After he left, Penelope took out her phone and searched the nearby towns for what they could do without going too far. “I don’t have to be on set early. We’re just doing lunch. Jennifer’s scheduled a half day of shooting due to some special visitors. We could get dinner somewhere, come back and watch a movie?”

  “Perfect,” Joey said, looking down at her phone also.

  Ava came through the front doors and into the bar and headed straight for Penelope and Joey. Penelope’s heart sank, but she resolved to hold fast to her decision not to work that night.

  “Something’s happened,” Ava said, her eyes wide.

  Penelope sighed. “What now? Ava, I’m off work and we’re heading out—”

  “Regina is gone,” Ava said, holding her palms in the air in a helpless shrug.

  “Yeah, she probably thinks she was fired,” Penelope said. “By me, last night.”

  Ava shook her head. “No, gone. Like really gone. Her mom just filed a missing persons report.”

  “Slow down,” Joey said. “Tell us what happened.”

  Ava took a breath before speaking again. “Regina’s mom came into the restaurant asking about what happened during the dinner shift. The girl has run off. She’s not answering her phone and her car is gone. No one knows where she is. She’s underage, only seventeen. When she didn’t come home last night her mother called Sheriff Bryson.”

  “Christine might know where she is. They’re close.”

  “No, she’s saying she doesn’t,” Ava insisted.

  “Look, she was upset when we talked, and she left angry. She’s probably just blowing off steam somewhere,” Penelope said.

  “You were the last person we know she talked to,” Ava said.

  Penelope thought about the young girls on the missing persons posters at the post office and an alarm went off in her mind.

  “I’ll keep an eye out for her,” Penelope said. “What else should we do?”

  “I don’t know,” Ava said, defeated. “I guess pray that you’re right and she just took off in anger. I don’t want to think about it being something worse.”

  Chapter 32

  Penelope had a fitful night of sleep, even though she usually slept well next to Joey. The first rays of sun were peeking in through the window, and she decided a run would help clear her mind. She hadn’t been on a good run in two weeks, which she knew always made her feel antsy and out of sorts.

  After pulling on her running gear and slipping from the room without waking Joey, Penelope synched her phone’s running app and headed to the main trail through the forest, the one she had run a couple of times with Jordan. She had another motive for making the trip. She planned to keep an eye out for the camps she’d heard about from Randall and the sheriff.

  Penelope warmed up with a light jog, picking up her pace when she arrived at the edge of the forest. The air was crisp and clean, and she felt her arms and legs fall into their familiar pattern as she increased her strides, her running shoes scraping against the pebbled sandy path. The sun warmed her face as she ran through the pockets of light peeking through the trees, and she felt joyous for the first time in days.

  The image of Jordan hanging in the walk-in flashed into her mind and she tripped, correcting herself to keep from falling at the last minute. She slowed her pace and pushed the picture from her mind, trying again to focus on the trees and the beauty of nature around her, concentrating on the scent of the pine and the crispness of the cool air.

  After the first mile, something to the left of the path caught her eye and she pulled up to a stop, jogging in place for a moment as she peered through the trees. A shiny black box was tucked between two trees next to what looked to be a makeshift tent, a camouflage-colored sheet strung between some branches. Something about the box was familiar. Penelope hadn’t seen any other runners or hikers that morning, and the campsite appeared to be abandoned. At least right now. She took a few tentative steps away from the path, pine needles crunching under her shoes as she went.

  She pulled her hood up over her damp hair and took a few more steps. It then became clear to her why the box was familiar. It was the case of wine that had gone missing the night of the break-in at Festa. Penelope’s heart had slowed when she stopped running, but picked up again as she glanced around the campsite. The wine box was empty, and several bottles were strewn across the ground.

  “Maybe this is Denis’s hunting campsite,” Penelope muttered, hoping there was some innocent explanation for what she was seeing. Her heart sank when she peered behind the sheet and saw a box of Festa’s straws and pint glasses with the restaurant’s logo painted on the side. She found scraps of food too, and a few dinner plates. Her mouth turned bitter when she looked to the right and spotted Jordan’s missing boots. They were thrown in the corner of the tent, partly obscured by a white tablecloth, which was streaked with mud and food stains.

  Penelope backed out of the tent, not wanting to disturb what looked like important evidence. She was suddenly freezing, the icy air permeating her damp clothes. She’d been idling too long and her body temperature had dropped. She pulled her phone from her pocket, the words Poor Connection showing on the screen. She swiped open the camera and started snapping pictures, positioning her phone at different angles to capture the entire area.

  When she heard the crunch of pine needles behind her, Penelope froze, then looked carefully around her, the discomfort she was feeling immediately forgotten, replaced by fear.

  A spray of giggles made her turn sharply to look to her left. She could see the edge of someone’s jacket poking out from behind a tree about fifty yards away. Penelope took a few steps back toward the trail, putting distance between herself and whoever was there. A second sharp laugh made her think it was a man, but she couldn’t be sure. Another footstep from a slightly different direction caused the hair to raise on her arms under her shirt.

  Penelope summoned her courage and willed herself to remain calm, even though adrenaline was running through her, urging her to run.

  The arm behind the tree shifted and whoever was hiding stepped into view. Penelope squinted
to see, but when the person revealed their face, all she could do was stare. They were wearing a dark hoodie with something obscuring their face. It looked painted on, a ghostly white see-through mask that obscured his features with a grotesque black smile. She definitely see now that it was a man, and was almost certainly Bailey.

  Penelope took a few more backward steps as the man slid back behind the tree. She saw someone else moving close by, a smaller figure, most likely a woman. Neither of them revealed themselves to her, and she wasn’t going to wait for them to. She spun around and sprinted back to the path, running at her top speed back to the inn.

  Chapter 33

  “I found something out in the woods,” Penelope said as she entered her room. She watched Joey’s face morph from excitement to worry and settle somewhere in between as she told him what she’d stumbled upon.

  “Sheesh, Penny, I’m glad you’re okay,” Joey said, hugging her tightly.

  “I was rattled,” Penelope admitted. She peeled off her damp shirt and picked up her phone, dialing the sheriff’s cell. “Now hopefully he’ll listen to me,” she said as she counted the rings. When she got his voicemail, she left a message for him to call her back right away. She tossed her phone on the bed and headed into the bathroom to get cleaned up for work.

  An hour later, Penelope was on the set, getting things underway for the day ahead. Lunch service would be busy, it being the first time in days the entire crew was up to full speed with everyone working. There were a few sniffles here and there, but it looked like the flu epidemic had left the set.

  “Yo, Boss,” Francis said through the window of the food truck. Penelope was inside butterflying chicken breasts and tossing them into a silver bin to marinate for the grill later.

  “What’s up?” she asked, still focused on cutting the chicken. She was using her sharpest butcher knife. The last thing she needed was to get distracted and cut herself.