Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1)

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

  “But what if it wrecks us? What if a child ruins everything we’ve built together?” Sam asked.

  “How could that be? We’re perfectly happy. We’d only be adding more happiness,” Arlena said, kissing him lightly on the lips.

  Sam looked away from her and leaned back onto the headboard. “Molly, I’m scared about the future. I don’t want all of this to go away.”

  “It’s not, Preston. I promise.”

  “I slept with someone else,” Sam said quietly, not making eye contact with Arlena.

  “What are you talking about?” Arlena said. Penelope could see the muscles in her back become rigid.

  “When I was in New York the last time,” he whispered. His eyes became shiny with tears. Penelope held her breath once again, mesmerized by the scene.

  “Preston, what are you saying?”

  “I slept with my old girlfriend from high school. I ran into her after my meeting. She was staying at the same hotel. It wasn’t planned.” He was pleading now. “We were in the bar and ran into each other…it was a mistake. We fell into it.”

  Arlena drew back from him, her shoulders now wilting as she searched his face.

  “Molly, please. It was a mistake,” Sam said. “I don’t want anything to change.”

  Arlena drew back her hand and slapped him hard across the face. Penelope’s heart did a flip in her chest and a wave of emotion rippled across everyone in the room. Pent up tears fell from Sam’s eyes and he once again crushed her to his chest.

  Arlena stayed totally still and quiet, sinking into him as he hugged her, not wanting to let go as they rocked together on the bed.

  “How can you say that when what you did changes everything about us?” she whispered wetly in his ear.

  “And…cut,” Sal said quietly from behind the monitor. Quiet applause began from a crew member in the corner of the room and Penelope joined in. She took a deep breath, fighting back tears she couldn’t quite understand.

  Arlena rolled off of Sam back to her original place on the bed. Penelope could see that she was also crying and Sam was wiping his face of tears.

  “Good job, babe,” he said to her, leaning in for a kiss.

  “You too, Sam.” She kissed him back then gave him a big hug. “Sorry about the slap. I got carried away.”

  “It’s all good. It was real, I’ll give you that,” Sam said, smiling and rubbing the red spot on his cheek.

  Kelley and her assistant took their spots on either side of the bed and began reapplying powder, and un-smudging Arlena’s lipstick and mascara.

  “Let’s get some pancake on that cheek,” Kelley muttered, eyeing Sam’s face.

  “All right everyone, we’re doing another take,” Sal said. “This time, Sam, I want you to be less confident in the beginning. You know you’re about to tell your wife that you’ve been unfaithful, so remember that is looming and work up to the emotion of contrition.”

  “You got it, Sal,” Sam said. Penelope knew confidence wasn’t Sam’s problem. Showing a lack of confidence would be where his acting abilities came in.

  Arlena waved her over and Penelope stepped carefully through the cables that snaked across the floor.

  “That was great,” Penelope said. Sam was laughing with one of the grips as he adjusted one of the lamps behind the bed.

  “You’d tell me, right? I mean, friends tell friends if they look terrible or sound ridiculous.”

  “Of course, I would tell you. But there’s nothing to tell.”

  “I’m trying to be sexy, mad and sad all at the same time. And I want him to agree to get that baby.”

  “It’s all working. I believe every word you’re saying.”

  “Hey, can you get me some water with lemon?” Arlena asked.

  “Sure, be right back.”

  Sal was talking with the cameraman and woman who were manning the flanking shots. He had a roll of papers in his hand that he motioned with, pointing out different spots in the room. He motioned for the script supervisor to join them, a young girl with skinny jeans, black hipster glasses and long red hair. She quickly leafed through the pages in her hand and Sal glanced over her shoulder, pointing out a passage to the camera woman on the left. She nodded and made a note on her copy of the script.

  Penelope made her way over to Arlena with a Solo cup filled with ice water and a lemon wedge.

  “Thanks,” she said gratefully, taking a big sip. Kelley was brushing powder on Arlena’s cleavage again.

  “You’re welcome,” Penelope said. “How many times do you think you’re going to have to do the scene?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and took a big sip of water. “Hopefully not too many more.”

  “Everyone back to one,” Sal said, his voice rising above the murmur in the room. He had his arm draped over the cameraman’s shoulders, gazing into his monitor.

  “Are you finished with this?” Kelley said, indicating Arlena’s cup of water. She was twirling a tube of lip gloss in her long fingers.

  Arlena nodded and took the last gulp of water, handing the cup back to Penelope. Kelley patted Arlena’s mouth gently with a cloth and then carefully began applying the gloss to Arlena’s parted lips.

  “Clear the shot, please,” Sal boomed, his voice even louder. He had taken his seat back behind the main camera.

  Penelope gave her a quick wink and went back to the craft table, tossing Arlena’s cup into the trash can against the back wall. She quietly poured herself some water from the dispenser on the table.

  “And…action!” Sal said, and the room fell silent.

  Arlena and Sam rolled back through their scene. As they ran their lines, Penelope noticed Sam’s demeanor was a bit more reserved and Arlena’s back was more rigid as she perched up on top of him.

  Arlena once again raised her hand up to slap Sam and Penelope’s stomach tensed in anticipation. But instead of slapping Sam’s face, Arlena’s hand flew to her throat and she began gasping for air. Penelope saw Sam’s eyes grow wide with concern as Arlena struggled to breathe.

  “Arlena, what’s the matter?” He sat up and eased her off of him.

  Arlena motioned frantically at her throat as she tried to pull air through her swelling windpipe. Sal stood up, knocking over his chair and rushed to Arlena’s side.

  “What’s wrong?” Sal asked in a clear loud voice.

  Penelope dropped the cup she was holding on the floor, the water splashing against her legs, and ran to the chair in the back of the room where Arlena had left her clothes and bag.

  Arlena gasped loudly and motioned to her throat as members of the crew began rushing around in a panic.

  Penelope pulled a bright red case with a sparkly letter A on it from the inside zipper of Arlena’s bag. She raced over to the bed, pushing past the camera woman, and handed it to Arlena.

  Arlena frantically pulled her EpiPen from inside the case and stabbed herself, the needle piercing her upper thigh. Arlena relaxed almost immediately and her breathing became less labored, returning to normal almost immediately. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she closed her eyes, leaning her head against the headboard.

  Sam whispered to her. “Arlena, are you okay? You scared the shit out of everyone.”

  She nodded weakly with her eyes still closed, focusing on taking deep breaths.

  “What the hell was that?” Sal yelled to the room. Arlena winced, but didn’t open her eyes.

  “She had an allergic reaction,” Penelope said.

  “Allergic reaction? But she was fine five minutes ago.”

  “Lemons,” Arlena whispered. “Were the lemons in the kitchen with the seafood?”

  Penelope’s heart sank. “I’ll have to check.” She looked sheepishly at Sal. “I told my crew to contain the kitchen. I can’t imagine
they would cut lemons for water with the same knife as prepping seafood.”

  “My leading lady almost dies and the work tonight is ruined because of lemons?” Sal yelled.

  “I’m sorry, Sal,” Penelope said. She felt like running away, but knew she had to stay and take responsibility for the mistake.

  Sal stared angrily at her as he spoke to the rest of the crew. “Everyone have a nice weekend. We’ll re-shoot this scene next week. Get out of here.” He slapped his rolled up papers on his thigh and stomped off.

  Arlena had stopped crying, but her face was still wet with tears. Her lips had swollen up to twice their normal size, like they always did when she came into contact with shellfish. She laid her head down on Sam’s chest and he hugged her as the room filled with sounds of the crew shutting down lights and rolling up cables.

  Penelope felt horrible. She stood at the edge of the bed, in disbelief that Arlena had suffered from a mistake for which she was ultimately responsible. She leaned down and said, “Arlena, I am so sorry.”

  Arlena kept her eyes closed but nodded slightly, waving Penelope away. “It was an accident. Thanks for getting my Pen.”

  Penelope stood back up, the feeling of helplessness gripping her.

  Sam glanced at Penelope over Arlena’s head. “I’ll take care of her.”

  The on-set EMT weaved her way around the remaining crew members and walked over to the bed to check on Arlena. Penelope decided to find Francis and figure out how they could have poisoned Arlena.

  Chapter 12

  Penelope hurried back to the kitchen truck. Francis and the rest of her crew were working in the prep tent, wiping down tables and loading the dish racks with dirty plates and glasses. They worked at a steady pace but were relaxed and joked with each other as they listened to the upbeat dance music coming from the large speaker on the roof of the truck.

  “Hey, Boss,” Francis said when she walked into the tent. “We thought they’d be shooting much later than this. They wrap already?”

  “Guys, everyone come here for a second,” she said, waving them over. The other three chefs joined Francis and they all listened expectantly, waiting to get their instructions for wrapping the week.

  “There was an incident on set. Something happened to Arlena.” They all took on concerned looks and shifted on their feet, glancing down or gazing at her. “She had an allergic reaction and had to use her EpiPen to stop it.”

  “Oh man,” Francis said. “She all right?”

  “She is now,” Penelope said. “But she’s shaken up and they had to quit early before they got what they needed.”

  “Shit,” one of them mumbled.

  “She’s severely allergic to shellfish. And I know of at least three other crew members who have allergies too. I know I made it clear that we couldn’t let seafood come into contact with anything else in the kitchen,” she said, glancing at all of them. “Who cut lemons today?”

  Quentin raised his rag over his head.

  “Did you use a clean knife and a clean cutting board?”

  “Yes ma’am. I absolutely did. Took them right out of the clean bin and got started. I cut oranges first, then limes and lemons. Then I wiped my board down and did the fruit salad.”

  “And you cut the fruit out here in the tent, not inside the truck?”

  “Yep. Over at that table.” He motioned to a folding table near the far end of the tent.

  “Good, so we can be fairly confident the contamination didn’t happen here.” Penelope felt a fraction of weight ease off of her shoulders.

  “I guess it’s good we didn’t mess up,” Francis said, “but then how did it happen? Arlena still got poisoned.”

  The set was clearing down for the weekend, everyone busily wrapping up their departments for a much needed break. Penelope couldn’t believe the week she’d had. It started with them finding a dead teenager out in front of their house and ended with Arlena having a major allergic reaction. Not to mention the golf cart incident that sent her to the hospital.

  Penelope was sitting in the cab of her kitchen truck, sorting through paperwork and thinking about everything that had happened. The windows of the cab had fogged up against the cold air outside and she enjoyed the small measure of privacy they provided. She was exhausted and at different points felt like crying, screaming or punching something. Instead of letting herself get overwhelmed, she focused on mindless paperwork, which always calmed her down.

  Penelope considered Arlena’s accident earlier in the week. She had suffered a severe blow to the head, enough to send her to the hospital and then home to rest for the day. And now filming was delayed once again due to an incident with Arlena. Penelope hoped Sal wouldn’t become frustrated with her because of all the production delays.

  They only had two weeks left to finish the movie. Both Sam and Sal were committed to projects right after this one, so if they didn’t finish principal filming on schedule the movie wouldn’t get made.

  Penelope remembered the scene Arlena had filmed earlier in the evening and how exposed she’d been. Arlena had never been fully nude in a movie but Brett Ralston, the creator and director of the Slash ’Em film franchise had insisted on her being topless in the most recent film. Arlena flatly refused and tense negotiations began between Brett and Arlena’s agent. Arlena eventually walked, citing creative differences, after Brett dug in and threatened to cut her pay in half if she didn’t comply with the nudity clause in her contract. Brett eventually hired a younger actress who resembled Arlena, but she had trouble carrying the film, her acting skills, even the limited ones needed to work on a Slash ’Em movie, were not up to par. The movie tanked, winning the Razzie for worst film of the year.

  A soft knock on the driver’s side window brought Penelope back to the present. She rolled the window down, bracing against the cold night air. Francis stood at the door of the truck shuffling in his work boots against the asphalt.

  “We’re done, Boss. Everything’s put away and locked up. And the dirty dishes have already been sent to the restaurant. You need us for anything else?”

  “No, that’s it. See you next week.”

  “Me and the guys are heading to Sidewinders for a few beers. You wanna join us?” Francis asked. Sidewinders was a local sports bar outside of town with lots of televisions and cute waitresses in tight short shorts.

  “I don’t think so. I’m pretty beat.”

  “Well if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

  “Have fun,” Penelope said, starting to roll the window back up. “Oh, hey, Francis, I forgot to tell you, Sal loved your sauce. He was happy with the whole meal, actually.”

  Francis did a mini-fist pump and turned away, heading into the night.

  Penelope rolled the window back up and stared out at the darkness for a minute, her mind still restless. She grabbed her iPhone from the truck’s dashboard and swiped it to life. She tapped open her contacts and scrolled down to the J’s, locating Joey’s name. She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the “call” button. She glanced at the time on the top of the screen and saw it was eight thirty. She hesitated a few seconds more before tapping it. Penelope’s heart skipped once as she put the phone up to her ear and cleared her throat. She couldn’t believe that calling a guy at her age still made her nervous. The phone rang six times and Penelope pulled it away from her ear, about to disconnect the call when suddenly she heard a faint “Detective Baglioni.”

  She put the phone back up to her ear.

  “Hello? Detective Baglioni here.” He was slightly out of breath like he had rushed to pick up the phone.

  “Joey? Hi, it’s Penelope.”

  “Penelope, hi…is everything all right?”

  Penelope closed her eyes, feeling awkward. “Not really. There was another incident with Arlena today.”

/>   “What happened?” An edge came into Joey’s voice.

  “She had an allergic reaction to something on the set. Lemons maybe, but we can’t figure out how it could have happened.”

  “Lemons? Arlena is allergic to lemons?” he asked.

  “No, she’s severely allergic to seafood. But I gave her some water with a lemon wedge in it and right after that she went into a full anaphylactic episode. Had to use her Pen.”

  “Where is she now?” Joey asked.

  “Sam took her home. They had to wrap early.”

  “She was working when it happened?”

  “They were in the middle of a scene,” Penelope said, her cheeks flushing as she recalled the image of Arlena struggling to breathe.

  “Hmm…” He exhaled into the phone. “Wait, why are you talking about lemons?”

  She sighed. “We thought maybe the lemons were cut with the same knife we used to prep the seafood today. Or they somehow came in contact with the same cutting board. But my guy swears he was nowhere near any of it. He was out in the tent, not in the truck.”

  “So you’re saying there’s no way it could have happened by accident?”

  “That’s how I truly feel. But that doesn’t change what happened. She was struggling to breathe and…” Penelope grasped the leather padded steering wheel with her free hand, squeezing it tightly.

  “The thing is, if you say it wasn’t a mistake on the part of your crew, it must have been intentional.” Joey was talking quickly, a note of urgency in his voice.

  “I hate to think that, Joey,” Penelope said. “This movie is Arlena’s big break. She’s been working so hard. It would be awful if someone was intentionally trying to hurt her.”

  “Yeah but think about it. We have two life-threatening incidents in the same week, on top of a murder that might involve Arlena in some way. All of that happening in one week is too much to be a coincidence.”

  “I think you might be right,” Penelope said quietly. She squeezed the steering wheel even tighter.