Honey Buns and Homicide: A Funny Culinary Cozy Mystery (Mom and Christy's Cozy Mysteries Book 6)

by Christy Murphy

  “There you are!” a woman said, bursting into the kitchen. “The photographer is ready for you all.” I assumed, and it turned out I was correct, that she was Madison, the publicist.

  Mom and Wenling checked their reflections of the side of stainless steel refrigerator. I didn’t bother. I just wanted this entire night to be over with. The three of us piled into the main room of the club. Lights, a backdrop, and a cameras were set up for a pre-show shoot.

  “We’ll get some of you guys in action at the party later for social media, but this is for the press release,” Madison said.

  “Press release?” I asked, turning to Mom.

  “Well, that’s the whole point to this thing, isn’t it?” Madison said.

  I couldn’t tell if it was my bad mood or something about her tone, but I decided in that second I didn’t like Madison.

  Mom handed me my magnifying glass prop, and she’d picked up an extra Sherlock pipe for Wenling.

  “Adorable!” Madison said, looking at Wenling and Mom. “Twin Sherlocks. Love it. You two get in front of the Watson,” she said with a dismissive wave toward me. “The band will come around here.”

  “Hey, Christy!” Nick said. Dragon waved, and that’s when I saw Robert.

  I almost laughed when I saw he was wearing those darn pleather pants. He mistook my stifled laugh as a smile and came closer. “You look adorable!” he said.

  What the? I had no idea how to respond to that, so I didn’t say anything. I know that sounds bratty, but I just had no energy. I was beyond sad at this point. I’d say fed up, but that would imply that I had energy for anger.

  Madison arranged us for the photograph. She had Robert in the center with Nick to his left and Dragon to his right. I was on the end next to Nick with Mom and Wenling in front.

  “Shouldn’t Christy be right next to me?” Robert asked. “We want people to believe that everything’s cool between us, right?”

  “I’m fine where I am,” I said.

  “No, he’s right,” Madison said, but she didn’t seem at all happy about it.

  Nick and I traded places, and Robert slipped his arm around me.

  Honey entered the main room of the club with Trey Jacobs. They must’ve been backstage.

  “That’s great!” Trey said.

  The photographer snapped photos. Forcing myself to smile for the pictures actually improved my mood. Robert kept his arm around me for all of the photos. I worried what DC would think. I glanced over to Honey and saw her frowning with her arms crossed.

  “Smile!” the photographer called out.

  If Honey wasn’t happy with the pictures, DC wouldn’t be happy with them either.

  THE PHOTO SHOOT cut into our catering prep time. As soon as it wrapped, Mom, Wenling, and I hurried to the kitchen to ready the first batches of honey buns. Robert wandered into the kitchen, and I wondered what he wanted.

  “You look great,” he said.

  “You already said that.” I had no makeup on, and I was wearing a ridiculous costume. His compliment made me suspicious.

  “Wenling and I will prepare the station for doing the icing if you’ll put the first batch of trays into the oven,” Mom said, ignoring Robert.

  I nodded and headed to the fridge to grab the trays. I usually did a lot of the heavy lifting for Mom and Wenling. It wasn’t that they couldn’t handle putting the stuff into the oven; they were both pretty strong, but they were short. We’d arranged the racks in our oven to bake five stacks of trays at a time. The top ones required Mom and Wenling to use a stool.

  I grabbed the first tray from the fridge and headed with it to the oven.

  Robert followed me.

  “They look really good,” he said. “Can I have one?”

  “They’re raw,” I said, pushing his hand away from the tin and almost dropping the whole tray to do it.

  I glared at him, but he didn’t apologize or even move out of my way.

  “Move,” I said. My hypothesis about Robert was that his lack of awareness stemmed from being self-involved.

  He shot me a questioning look.

  During our marriage, I’d come to expect his obliviousness. Now I wondered how I’d ever put up with it.

  “You’re in my way. I’m trying to work here,” I said.

  He finally moved without so much as an apology. I ignored him and continued with my work.

  He followed me back and forth from the refrigerator to the oven for the entire five trays.

  “You do see that I’m trying to work here,” I said.

  “Am I in the way?” he asked.

  I threw up my hands. How could I have ever tolerated this level of cluelessness?

  “Bobby darling!” a woman’s voice called from the main room.

  Robert and I traded looks. No one ever called him Bobby. He shrugged. “Listen, do you think we can talk after the show?”

  “No,” I heard myself say. The speed and directness of my answer shocked me. I could tell from his stunned silence that he was surprised, too.

  Robert laughed. “You had me for a second, but seriously, we could go to the diner you like—

  “Bobby!” I turned and realized that it was Madison that had been calling Robert. Saved by the bellow. “I need you,” she continued, snapping her fingers.

  Robert trotted over like a golden retriever.

  Mom and Wenling shot me an “oh brother” style look from across the room. When “Bobby” reached Madison, she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out of the kitchen. Just before he left, he turned back to me and said, “We’ll go out after the show!” as if it were a done deal that we’d get together. What part of no did Pleather Pants not understand?

  I glanced down at my phone and realized I didn’t have time to worry about Robert. The VIPs would enter the club in forty minutes. We could still set up, but we’d need to have the tables ready with the first batches out when they arrived.

  I closed the oven.

  “Mom, this batch is in. Can you pull them out while I set up the tables?”

  Mom nodded.

  Typically we’d have a company deliver and set up tables and chairs, and all I’d have to do is dress them. But since we only needed three buffet tables, we’d brought them ourselves this morning. I’m not much of a cook, but I am strong, which on the day of a catering event actually comes in handy. I dragged the tables to a spot on the right wall of the club and started to unfold the legs.

  “Hey Christy!” Nick said as he came over to me.

  “Hey!” I said not turning around to talk. Didn’t any of these guys have to get ready for the show?

  He crouched down and started unfolding the legs on the other side.

  “I can do it,” I said.

  “I know,” he said and kept helping me. We had two of the tables on their feet in just a few minutes.

  “Are you putting those things on the tables?” he asked as I walked to the third table.

  I turned to him with a questioning look.

  “Those sheets,” he said, laughing at himself. “Why can’t I think of the word?”

  I laughed. “Tablecloths?”

  “That’s it,” he said.

  “Yeah, I got tablecloths and skirts in the van. Why?”

  “Go get them while I set up this last one. You’re running out of time,” he said, crouching down and getting to work.

  “Thanks,” I said, stunned. He nodded without looking up.

  I hustled my way through the kitchen and out the back door to grab the linens from the van.

  When I went to slide open the door to the van, I was distracted by the sound of laughter. I turned to see if someone was laughing at me wearing my bee costume.

  That’s when I spotted Robert kissing some curly-haired brunette. The two of them were going at it leaning against Robert’s girlfriend’s car. I knew it wasn’t his girlfriend, Honey. She was blonde.

  Typical Robert. I shook my head and decided to get back to work. My first instinct was to be q
uiet, but then I realized I didn’t need to feel self-conscious walking in on them. This was a parking lot, and Robert was the cheater.

  When I slid open the door to the van, I heard them stop whispering. I pretended like I didn’t see or hear them. Why bother? I heard more giggling and the shuffling of feet as they scurried away. I grabbed the linens and went back inside.

  Nick had finished setting up the last of the three tables when I got back to the main room. “Thanks for helping me,” I said.

  “I’m used to doing more before a show,” he said. “Remember I used to do most of the roadie work. Now we’ve got people for that.”

  “Well, thanks,” I said, hoping he would leave. It was awkward to talk to Nick. We’d never been close. I’d gotten the impression that he didn’t like me. But then again, Robert liked to keep me separate from the band even though I was allegedly “the manager.” I started dressing the first table.

  “I don’t want to pry into your personal business,” Nick said, “but you’re not thinking of getting back together with Robert, are you?”

  “No way.”

  Nick laughed. “Do you need any extra seconds to think about it?”

  I laughed. “No!” I finished affixing the skirt around the first table and went to work on the second. Nick was still standing there. “People think I’m threatening to kill him and now you wonder if I want to get back together with him. What made you think that?”

  “I don’t know. I never understood why you were with him in the first place. I just got the vibe that he might want to get back together with you.”

  “Never happening,” I said.

  “Your lyrics are really good, you know,” Nick said. “Don’t think you have to go back with Robert to write songs.”

  “‘Got a Match’ was probably just luck,” I said

  “If you ever want to try and get lucky with another song, I’ll write with you. Just don’t go back to that guy. He’s a real womanizer,” Nick said.

  “I know that now,” I said.

  Nick looked guilty. He’d probably known about Robert’s cheating ages before I did. But I didn’t hold it against him. It wasn’t like we were friends.

  “Has anybody seen Robert?” Honey asked. She must’ve come from backstage.

  “Last I saw, he was with Madison,” Nick said.

  Honey stared at me as if I needed to answer for Robert’s whereabouts as well. I could’ve told her that he was making out with some brunette behind the club, but I didn’t think that would go over well.

  “I’ve been busy working,” I said. It was best to mind my own business—figuratively and literally. I continued to the third buffet table.

  As if on cue Robert emerged from the kitchen carrying two tins of honey buns.

  “Where have you been?” Honey yelled at Robert.

  “I got you a honey bun,” he said.

  I gritted my teeth. He’d used that same patronizing tone on me during our marriage.

  “Oh!” she said, and walked over to him with a smile.

  I stared at the two of them. I couldn’t believe that she was falling for his fake innocent act.

  “Thank you,” she said as she took the treat, and then she pushed the honey bun into his face. Nick laughed.

  “They just came out of the oven!” Robert screamed as he yelled profanities directed at his girlfriend. That’s when I noticed Mom and Wenling had been watching from the kitchen door. Robert pushed past them to get to the kitchen. I went over to make sure he wasn’t really burned.

  “Mom, did you give him those buns when they were super hot?” I asked.

  “We didn’t give him anything,” Wenling said. “He took them when we weren’t looking.”

  “How hot are they on the inside?” I asked Mom as Robert rinsed his face in the sink. I worried he was going to look like Two-Face from the Batman cartoon.

  “He’s being dramatic,” Mom said. “Those buns could barely burn a baby.”

  “He’s a big baby,” Wenling said, which wasn’t to Mom’s point, but true nonetheless.

  Mom grabbed the first aid kit we always brought with us and went over to Robert. “Let me see,” Mom said, opening the kit.

  He threw down the dishtowel he used to dry his face. His face wasn’t even red.

  “You’re fine,” Mom said, snapping it closed.

  Robert stormed out of the back door of the kitchen and into the parking lot.

  “I guess she suspected that he was making out in the parking lot,” I said.

  “You noticed the smudged lipstick all over his neck too?” Mom said.

  “No,” I said. I hadn’t noticed anything like that. “Do you think Honey did?”

  “I watched her eyes go to his neck,” Wenling said. “When she went to get the honey bun she definitely saw.”

  Mom agreed.

  I was surprised everybody else noticed besides me.

  “A woman he cheated with could be responsible for the death threats,” Mom said.

  “Or Honey might have sent them,” Wenling said.

  “Maybe,” Mom said, considering that idea, “but those postmarks were from out of town.”

  “True. Maybe a fan from when they were on the road,” Wenling said.

  Mom agreed. “Let’s keep an eye out for the woman with the lipstick.”

  “I didn’t see her face, but he was making out with a curly-haired girl with brown hair,” I said. “They were in the parking lot when I went to get the linens for the tables.”

  Mom and Wenling nodded.

  “She’ll be here at the party,” Mom said. “Let’s all be on the lookout for the curly-haired brunette.”

  CATERING for the VIPs at the album release party was the easiest catering we’d ever done. Basically, we’d set the trays up in the backstage area and were promptly shooed away.

  All of the pre-party drama had robbed us of valuable time, so the three of us were grateful to have more time to set up for the opening. We’d managed to stock the three tables full of honey buns and put out our little bee-themed napkins and decorations throughout the club. Sure, the party wasn’t our typical gig, but we prided ourselves on doing a good job no matter what.

  The nightclub staff arrived and readied the bar and turned down the lights. Mom and Wenling thought the club looked much nicer and less dirty with the lights low. Although when the music started playing, Mom and Wenling put in their ear plugs. They’d offered me some, but I was used to the noise.

  It was about fifteen minutes before the opening, and the three of us were behind the tables ready to serve. Madison came over to the table. She snapped her fingers in my direction, but I didn’t come rushing over like a dog for her. Instead I remained at my station.

  “You!” she said, pointing at me. “Come, come!”

  “My name is Christy,” I said.

  Mom pulled out her ear plugs when she realized that I was leaving. “We need her here,” Mom said.

  Wenling didn’t take out her ear plugs. “Party is going to start,” she shouted. Her voice carried over the music with amazing clarity.

  “She’ll be right back,” Madison said, holding her finger up to indicate one minute. “We just want her to meet some of the VIPs.”

  Mom smiled. I doubted Wenling heard what Madison said, but since Mom had smiled Wenling smiled, too.

  Madison grabbed me by the elbow and led me across the club. It wasn’t necessary. We’d just come back from the VIP room, but I got the sense that she didn’t want me to wander off. I got the distinct impression that Madison was the controlling type.

  “Who exactly do I need to meet?” I asked her.

  “Remember, the whole point to you catering this party isn’t so you can run around in your weird outfit and overcharge for desserts. It’s supposed to show that there is no animosity between you and Robert so that people think there’s a possibility you’ll write more songs together.”

  “But I don’t want to write more songs with Robert,” I said.

 
; “Good,” she said, which I thought was a strange answer. She opened the door and pushed me into the room. “Play along. Don’t make me make you regret it.

  All eyes turned to me. I’d never made such an entrance in all my life. The reality of the situation struck me. I’d just walked into the VIP room at one of the hottest new clubs in Hollywood to meet major rock ‘n’ roll record label honchos wearing a bee costume. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where I went to school naked. Was this how Lady Gaga felt wearing that meat dress to the MTV awards?

  MADISON PULLED a Houdini and escaped from my side in under a second, leaving me standing in the doorway all alone. I wanted to turn around and leave, but that would make me look like I was ashamed. And why should I be? I’m just a bee detective on a case doing a little catering. What was there to feel silly about?

  I smiled to the room and pretended like I owned the place. That’s right, honchos. I’m wearing a nine-year-old’s Halloween costume, and I’ve done it on purpose.

  “Hey!” a woman said as she tapped me on the shoulder. I prayed it was someone I knew. I’d managed Robert’s career for ten years. How come no one I knew was at this party?

  I turned to find what I suspected was the curly-haired brunette making out with Robert in the parking lot.

  “Aren’t you the one who wrote the lyrics to ‘Got A Match?’”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I get a picture with you?” she said holding up her phone.

  I pretended like it was no big deal, but the truth was I felt like a celebrity. Although, I wondered how on earth this young woman recognized me.

  “Fiona,” Madison said as she reappeared next to me. “You’re not supposed to be back here. You know that.”

  The brunette held up the press pass she had hanging from the lanyard around her neck.

  Madison shook her head. “I don’t know where you got that from, but you better leave before I have you thrown out.”

  I suspected I knew where, or more like who, she’d got that press pass from.

  “Is Robert here?” Fiona asked.

  “The band is backstage getting ready for the show, and you are leaving,” Madison said, grabbing her by the elbow and leading her to the door. I guessed that elbow thing was Fiona’s signature move.