by Amber Crewes
FINGER FOODS AND MISSING LEGS
A Sandy Bay Cozy Mystery
By
Amber Crewes
Published by Pen-n-a-Pad Publishing in 2018
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © Pen-n-a-Pad Publishing
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
About Finger Foods and Missing Legs
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
Thank You!
About Gingerbread and Scary Endings
GINGERBREAD AND SCARY ENDINGS CHAPTER 1 SNEEK PEEK
ALSO BY AMBER CREWES
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About Finger Foods and Missing Legs
Released: October, 2018
Series: Book 6 – Sandy Bay Cozy Mystery Series
Standalone: Yes
Cliff-hanger: No
Meghan Truman is ecstatic when she discovers she’s won an all-expense paid trip to Paris for a Food and Baking convention. She’s never been to Europe and is looking forward to the sights, smells and people.
Her trip takes a very sour turn when one of the chief conference speakers is reported missing and subsequently found dead in her hotel room. Meghan is shocked when she’s informed she has been identified as a person of interest who the police want to speak to.
With her European trip in danger of turning into her worst nightmare, she must quickly identify who had the most to gain from the victim’s demise and absolve herself of any link to the murder before her hopes of landing a lucrative deal with an interested investor fades into nothing in the city of Love.
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1
MEGHAN TRUMAN’S HANDS SHOOK as she pulled a bulky yellow envelope out of the mailbox. She had been eagerly awaiting this correspondence for weeks, and as she carried the envelope inside of Truly Sweet, her bakery, Meghan’s dark eyes grew wide in excitement.
“Finally,” Meghan whispered as she reverently placed the envelope on the front counter. “The news I have been waiting for.”
“Meghan! Meghan, can you come help me?”
Meghan stifled a sigh as Trudy, her new assistant, called out to her from the kitchen. She peered at the envelope, her heart thudding in her chest as she admired the elegant handwriting on the front proclaiming it to be hers.
“Trudy, can it wait?” Meghan asked as she ran her fingers along the edges of the yellow envelope. “I have some mail I need to read; I’ve been waiting for this letter for months, and it’s finally here.”
Meghan heard a loud crash from the kitchen, and she begrudgingly left the envelope on the counter to tend to Trudy. Her new assistant had been working at Truly Sweet for only a few weeks, and usually, the two women got along well; while Meghan was a twenty-seven year old transplant to the Pacific Northwest, and Trudy had lived in Sandy Bay all of her life, the pair worked well together, and Meghan was thrilled that she had help at the bakery. Truly Sweet was the only bakery in Sandy Bay, and while Meghan loved running her business, it was hard work, and Trudy had proven to be an asset to the business.
“What’s going on, Trudy?” Meghan asked as she burst into the kitchen. “Are you alright?”
Trudy was a mess; she was covered in flour, and there were bowls and cutlery scattered on the tiled floor. “I had a little fall, Meghan. I’m alright. Just a little trip.”
Meghan laughed in spite of herself. “You poor thing,” she said kindly. “Let me help you up; I’ll give you a hand, and we can tidy the kitchen before the morning crowd comes in.”
Trudy smiled. “Sorry, boss. I’ll be more careful next time.”
The two women worked together to clean the kitchen, both exchanging jokes and stories as they swept the flour from the cracks of the floor, scrubbed the dishes, and put things in order.
“There!” Meghan said thirty minutes later as they surveyed their work. “Much better!”
Trudy grinned. “I have news for you, Meghan; it’s never a boring day at Truly Sweet, that’s for sure.”
Meghan gasped. “News! News! I had forgotten. The news I’ve been waiting for arrived today, Trudy. I have to go open that envelope!”
Meghan raced back to the dining area to retrieve her envelope. Trudy followed behind her, and she clucked as Meghan tore open the yellow paper. “I haven’t seen you this excited since that sweet Jack Irvin asked you to be his girlfriend a few weeks ago,” Trudy said as Meghan shook with excitement. “You were adorable, Meghan; I had never seen someone so happy to be off the market.”
Meghan beamed. Jack Irvin, a local detective, was everything she had dreamed of in a boyfriend; he was handsome, intelligent, confident, ambitious, and kind, and Meghan had grown quite fond of him in the five months she had lived in Sandy Bay. Jack had helped Meghan through some unexpected troubles with the bakery, and Meghan was thankful for his support.
“You were jumping around the bakery like a little girl after he asked you. He is a catch; I’ve watched Jack Irvin grow up, and that boy is a sweetheart. You’re a lucky girl, Meghan, but Jack is a lucky guy, too! You two are a cute couple.”
Meghan grinned. “I do feel pretty lucky,” she admitted. “When I moved to Sandy Bay from Los Angeles all of those months ago, I didn’t know what would happen; opening the bakery was a challenge, and making new friends in town was certainly daunting, but now, I am so happy. I have a thriving business, wonderful friends, an amazing assistant, and a new boyfriend.”
Trudy winked. “And hopefully some good news. Open that envelope, Meghan! I’m dying to know what’s in there.”
Meghan ripped open the top of the envelope and began to read the letter aloud.
Dear Meghan Truman,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to attend the LeBlanc St. James Food and Baking Convention in Paris, France. You have been selected from a pool of over ten thousand finalists, and we are elated to extend this invitation to you to join us in Paris for the convention.
All of your expenses will be taken care of at the LeBlanc St. James Food and Baking Convention; we have enclosed a voucher for your airfare, as well as your reservation information for your complimentary stay at Grand Hôtel du Palais Royal, a five-star hotel located in one of the city’s finest neighborhoods.
We look forward to seeing you at the convention. Thank you for your interest in the event.
Je vous remercie,
The Selection Committee of the LeBlanc St. James Food and Baking Convention
Meghan’s jaw dropped. “I’m going to Paris, Trudy!” Meghan screamed as she began jumping up and down. “I’m going to Paris!”
Two weeks later, Jack packed the last of Meghan’s suitcases into the trunk of his undercover car. “Are you sure you need three bags?” Jack asked as he held the passenger door open for Meghan. “That’s going to be a lot to keep track of in Paris.”
Meghan shrugged. “I’ve never been to Europe before,” she said giddily. “I want to look my best in Pa-reeeee!”
Meghan blushed. “Thanks, Jack. And thank you for taking me to the airport today.”
Jack reached over and took Meghan’s hand. “That’s what boyfriends are for, right? Anyway, it just means I get to spend more time with you. This might sound a little silly, but I’m going to miss you while you are away.”
Meghan bit her bottom lip, feeling her face grow hot as Jack looked at her. She could feel butterflies in her stomach, and she felt her lips turned upward into a smile as Jack’s blue eyes stared at her. “I’m going to miss you too, Jack. We haven’t been apart for more than a few days, but I know that we’ll manage this week with no problem. We can chat every evening, and I can even put some postcards in the mail for you.”
Jack squeezed Meghan’s hand. “I just feel protective of you, Meghan,” he admitted. “You are very special to me, and it makes me nervous to think of you gallivanting in Paris. If something happens to you, I can’t save the day and make sure you are okay.”
Meghan felt tears brim in her eyes, and she was warmed by Jack’s sincerity. “I’ll be careful, Jack. I want to come home to Sandy Bay--and to you--in one piece.”
Jack nodded. “Just promise you’ll stay out of trouble while you’re away?”
Meghan leaned over and kissed Jack’s cheek. “I promise,” she assured him. “I’ll be busy at the convention each day, and it’s only a few blocks from the hotel. I’m going to do a few sightseeing tours, but those are guided, so I think I’ll be in good hands.”
Jack squeezed Meghan’s hand again. “This sounds like an amazing experience for you,” he breathed as Meghan studied his serious face. “I’m so proud of you, and I can’t wait to see your beautiful face coming toward me at the airport in just a few days.”
Two hours later, Meghan waved goodbye to Jack as she walked into the security line. She made it through security in no time, and before she knew it, she was buckled into her window seat on the airplane. Meghan leaned back, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the passengers boarding the plane. She ordered a soda from the flight attendant, and once it was delivered, she sighed.
“It’s almost time,” Meghan whispered to herself as she gazed out the window. “It’s almost time to start my adventure in Paris. I wonder what this week will bring…..”
2
“THIS HOTEL IS FANCIER than anything I’ve ever seen in Atlanta. Look at the portraits on the wall! Look at the free food in the salon. This is too nice for a Georgia girl like me!”
Meghan giggled at Molly Beckham, an older woman she had met as she waited in the Passport Control line at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris; the women had started talking in line, and they had chatted all the way from the airport to the hotel. Molly was attending the convention as well, and Meghan made plans with her to meet up and walk to the event space later.
“Au revoir, Miss Meghan!” Molly yelled as she blew kisses to Meghan from across the hotel lobby. “I need a little nap, but I will be ready to go to the convention ce soir. That means tonight.”
Meghan laughed. The other guests at the opulent hotel were staring at them, but Meghan did not care; she was exhausted from the overnight flight, and she was aching for some rest.
“I wonder what my room will look like,” Meghan mumbled to herself as she rode up the elevator to the fifth floor. “This hotel is the nicest place I’ve ever been in. I don’t think anyone from Sandy Bay would even believe me if I told them how nice this hotel is.”
Meghan’s room was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She had been given a suite, and she marveled at the elegance of her rooms as she explored her private bathroom, bedroom, sitting room, and balcony.
“If this is how they’re treating us before we’ve even been to the convention, I can’t even imagine what the event itself will be like.” Meghan thought to herself as she faded into a deep, jet-lagged slumber.
That evening, Meghan and Molly walked arm-in-arm through the streets of Paris as they marched toward the event space.
“Oooo lalala,” Molly gasped as the two women ventured out into the chilly evening. “This city is just très élégant--that means very elegant, did you know that?”
Meghan smiled kindly. “You are right. I cannot believe we are here. This is so different from Sandy Bay, the little town where I live. Everyone here is impeccably dressed, the architecture is so magnificent, and the language is just so beautiful to hear.”
Molly grinned. “This is going to be an adventure, that’s for sure! I’m dying to make some wonderful memories here. My work as a baker at home in Atlanta has kept me busy for so many years, and this is my first real chance to see the world. I’m going to make the most of it!”
“Me too,” Meghan agreed. “Let’s make the most of it, Molly.”
When Meghan and Molly reached the Palais Brongniart, the event space for the LeBlanc St. James Food and Baking Convention, they both applied a layer of fresh lipstick and fluffed their hair.
“We should look our best when we strut in there,” Molly ordered Meghan as they walked across the threshold. “In Atlanta, we believe that ladies should look and act our best, so let’s show the bakers and chefs of Paris what we are made of!”
Meghan nodded. She liked Molly’s spirit; the woman was a bit overbearing, but Meghan was happy to have made a friend early on her European trip. “Yes, let’s show them what we are made of.”
The Palais Brongniart was located in the center of the Second Arrondissement, one of the trendiest neighborhoods in Paris, and Meghan immediately understood why the venue had been chosen; it was upscale and tasteful, and hundreds of small booths filled with food, baking equipment, drinks, and displays lined the aisles of the main hall. “This is amazing!” Meghan cried as she took in the many vendors and demonstrations in the main hall. “There is so much to do here.”
“Escargot, Madam?”
Meghan turned to see a waiter dressed in all black holding a tray in front of her. “Sure!” Meghan exclaimed, taking one of the finger foods and placing it delicately in her mouth as the waiter nodded and walked away.
“What is escargot?” Meghan asked as she struggled to keep the morsel in her mouth.
Molly’s eyes widened. “They are snails, Meghan! You’re eating snails!”
Meghan choked down the last piece and tried not to gag. “That’ll teach me not to try to be too fancy, here,” she sputtered as Molly laughed. “Hopefully some of the other little finger foods are a little easier to take.”
Molly pointed at a crowded booth to the left and nudged Meghan. “Look!” Molly said. “It’s a demonstration on cupcake batter tools. Let’s check that out.”
“Sounds good,” Meghan agreed as the two women walked to the booth. Four speakers sat at a table in front of the crowd, and Meghan and Molly quietly slipped into the back row of chairs.
“And then, you use ice to chill the batter! That helps bring the flavor out of the mix,” one of the panelists, a middle-aged man with an American accent, informed the crowd. “Use as much ice as possible, and you will have the most flavorful mix you could dream of.”
Meghan furrowed her brow. “That doesn’t make sense…” Meghan said, a bit too loudly, to herself.
“Ahem! This is a panel discussion,” the man declared as he stared at Meghan. “Do you have something to add, Miss….?”
Meghan gulped. “Miss Meghan Truman,” she said softly. “I own a small bakery in Sandy Bay, a small town in the Pacific Northwest. I just don’t think the ice method is a great idea for making cupcake mixes flavorful.”
The man glared at Meghan, and she could feel the crowd staring at her. “Oh?”
Meghan took a deep breath. “The ice can be helpful to cool the mix, but ultimately, won’t it dilute the flavors, not enhance them?”
The man stared into Meghan’s dark eyes, and she fel
t her body stiffen. “Do you know who I am?”
Meghan shook her head as he cleared his throat. “I am Andrew Meekse, the founder and owner of Little Hen, the finest chain of luxury bakeries in the Midwest. What would you know, Meghan Truman, about luxury bakeries and fine baking?”
Meghan’s face grew hot as the crowd stared at her. “I….I….”
“She’s right, you know,” said the panelist sitting next to Andrew Meekse. “Meghan, I’m Monica Baptiste, Parisian pastry chef and award-winning baker. Andrew, Miss Truman is correct; adding significant amounts of ice to cupcake batter will only dilute flavors. The science behind her statement is accurate, and I must agree.”
Meghan sighed a breath of relief as Monica smiled across her way. “Meghan? Please stand up,” Monica instructed.
