Page 66 of Murder By the Millions
I entered Ragamuffin in a foul mood. Did Zach really think I was a killer? He couldn’t. No way. If only I hadn’t mentioned the darned kiss!
When I reached the front of the line, I shook off my unease and ordered a latte with an extra pump of caffeine, treats for Tegan and Chloe, and a chocolate scone for me. After the tussle with Zach, a raspberry one didn’t hold the same allure.
As I was paying, the ponytailed barista said, “Allie, I was about to call you. If you have time, the boss said we could use two dozen lemon cheesecake bars pronto. Like three hours from now. Can you do it? The Potter’s Palette next door wants to have them on hand for this afternoon’s art party for adults.”
“They could’ve ordered directly from me.”
“Yes, but the boss didn’t clue them in. She said we might as well make a profit.”
I laughed at her candor.
“Besides, we’re providing all the beverages for the affair.”
I agreed to help out and took our treats back to Feast for the Eyes. After explaining to Tegan that I had a rush order, I hoofed it to Dream Cuisine. It took me less than ninety minutes to bake, cool, and slice the lemon bars. I dusted them with powdered sugar, stowed them in a container, and delivered them to Ragamuffin, slightly out of breath.
When the barista received them, she said, “Next time, bring us more business cards.”
I smirked. “Will you really hand them out?”
“You bet. But not to anyone who needs a same-day order. They have to go through us. Deal?”
“Deal.”
On my way out, I caught sight of the young woman I’d seen outside Jason’s house Monday night, the one who said she’d heard a woman scream, the one I’d dubbed Pinkie, because she’d reminded me of my favorite stuffed bunny. Today she was in a pink light-weave sweater over white jeans and was chatting with none other than Lillian’s grandmother Magda, who was dressed to impress. I wished I could drape a scarf the way she had, but I’d look foolish. The scarf—it was a blue floral Hermès, if I wasn’t mistaken, one I’d seen in an ad in a recent edition ofEllemagazine—was stunning.
I drew near. “Hello, Magda.”
“Well, I’ll be!” she cried. “If it isn’t Allie Catt.”
“It’s you!” Pinkie said, startled.
“It’s me,” I replied. “Do you know me?”
“Allie’s a caterer,” Magda said.
“No.” Pinkie shook her head.
“Yes,” Magda countered.
“No, I mean, this is the person who found the body.” Pinkie shot a hand in my direction.
“She’s also part owner of Feast for the Eyes,” Magda added. “I was telling Pearl—”
“That’s me,” said Pinkie, aka Pearl.
“I was telling Pearl she must start reading more.” Magda regarded her young friend. “I’m a devoted romance reader. Heat meter one, thank you very much.”Heat meter onein the romance world meant a gentle, Hallmark-style encounter. No bodice ripping. “But I’ll read anything, truth be told, except nonfiction.”
“I like paranormal romance,” Pearl said. “Especially with sexy vampires.”
“Oh, you.” Magda giggled.
Pearl chuckled but quickly sobered. “Allie, I was talking to Magda about the murder. What is this world coming to?”
Magda said, “And I was about to tell you I knew Jason Gardner.”
“You did?” Pearl’s eyes widened.
“He was a boy.” Briefly, she recapped how her daughter— Lillian’s mother—used to babysit him.
