Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1) (7 page)

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.

“That’s why you called, isn’t it?” Joey asked. “Because you think someone might be trying to hurt Arlena.”

“Yes,” Penelope said reluctantly, shaking her head. “But, I don’t know what to think, Joey.”

“Hold on a second,” Joey said. Penelope heard him put his hand over the phone to muffle his voice as he spoke to someone else in the room. She tried to make out what he was saying but only caught a few words: tonight, case, later and Arlena. The connection opened back up and she heard him clearly again. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy working,” Penelope said.

“Actually, I’m at home.”

“Oh, sorry…” Penelope said, wondering who he was talking to.

“I’m thinking I should look into this latest incident. I also have some new information on Holly Anderson.”

“Tonight isn’t great. Arlena and Sam are at our house. I spoke with Sam to be sure they were home safe and to make sure Arlena was feeling better. He said she took a Valium and went to bed, that was over an hour ago.”

“Are you still at work?” Joey said.

“I’m finishing up a few things. Most everyone is already gone for the weekend,” Penelope said. “I should go home.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you stop by my apartment? I’m in Bradenton. It’s on your way.”

Bradenton was in between South Point and their house in Glendale. New Jersey was full of quaint little towns, all with their own village greens, shopping areas and residential neighborhoods.

“Sure,” Penelope said. “But I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he responded quickly.

Penelope paused for a moment. She was tired but didn’t want to go home just yet. Maybe talking to Joey would settle her mind so she could get some rest. She also felt a spark of excitement peeking through her exhaustion at seeing him again. “Text me your address. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“See you then. Drive safe,” Joey said and hung up.

Penelope exhaled as she pulled the phone away from her ear, the little wiggle of excitement still churning at the base of her stomach. She flipped down the visor to look at herself in the little mirror on the back of it. “Ugh!” she said when she saw her smudged mascara and the circles under her eyes that looked like faint bruises. She looked pale, paler than she normally looked in the middle of New Jersey winter. She glanced down at her clothes and sighed. She had pulled off her apron after talking to her crew in the tent and hadn’t noticed a big stain of red sauce at the bottom of her sweater. Her jeans also looked dingy after twelve hours of walking around on set and working with food. “I need help,” she said out loud in the cab.

She grabbed her messenger bag out from under the seat of the truck and tucked her phone inside one of the front pockets. Penelope kept the cab of the truck locked at all times since it was essentially her office and she always kept her bag stashed under there. Only she and Francis had keys and she trusted him completely. She looked through her bag and saw that she had nothing with her, no cosmetic help at all. Just an old tube of lipstick, a tampon and some loose change.

Penelope flipped off the cab light, opened the door and jumped down from the truck, her bag looped over her shoulder. She locked the door behind her and headed towards the trailers on the far end of the lot.

Arlena’s trailer was right next to Kelley’s, the two biggest on the set. As Penelope approached she saw Freddie, one of the interns, coming out from between the trailers. “Hey, Freddie, is Kelley still in there?”

“I think so,” Freddie said, nodding at her door. He was coiling up the cables that ran power to Arlena’s home on the set. “At least she was ten minutes ago.” He wore an oversized puffy coat over a black t-shirt, a large neon-green skull stretched over his bird-like torso, and baggy jeans that looked like they were about to slip off his narrow hips every time he bent over to pick up the cable slack. Skull tattoos snaked over his hands, and his dyed black hair stuck out in every direction. He turned his back to her and kicked the wound up cable underneath the trailer.

“Thanks,” Penelope said to his back. He waved at her and disappeared into the darkness again.

Penelope rapped firmly on Kelley’s door. It opened a crack and she peered out hesitantly, but when she saw it was Penelope she swung the door open wide. “Hey, Pen. Come on in,” she said through her painted black lips. “I thought everyone was gone.” She scrunched the ends of her short black bob.

Penelope stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind her against the frigid air. “Almost, I need a favor. I’m stopping by a friend’s place on the way home and I look, well, I look like this.” She swept her hands in a dramatic arc from her hair down to her shoes. “Can you make me look presentable? Or at least not like I got dragged behind a bus on the way to his house?”

Kelley laughed out loud, a rare occurrence for the normally reserved girl. “I think I can help.” Kelley spun Penelope around and sat her down in the makeup chair facing a mirror lined with large bulbs.

“Fantastic. I thought I looked bad before but the lighting in here lets you know exactly how bad you really look.”

Kelley giggled. “You don’t look that bad. You’re tired. We all are.” She released Penelope’s hair from its pony tail. Penelope’s hair was wavy and thick and she always thought it was too unruly to let it be loose while she was working. A lot of chefs cut their hair short for that reason, but Penelope always thought her hair was one of her best features and didn’t want to chop it off. So she tied it back, sometimes for so long letting it down at the end of the day was a huge relief.

“How’s Arlena?” Kelley asked as she worked her fingers through Penelope’s hair, massaging her scalp with something that smelled like lavender.

“I think she’s better. At least she’s home in her own bed resting comfortably. Sam’s with her.”

“That’s a relief. I’ve never seen anything like what I saw her go through today. It was terrible,” Kelley said. She moved around to face Penelope on her left side and tilted her face up to the lights, studying her for a moment. Making some kind of determination, she turned towards her makeup tray on the counter at the base of the mirror. She picked up a small palate of foundation and lightly touched a spot with her pinkie under each of Penelope’s eyes.

“Look up,” she directed as she smoothed the makeup on. Her fingers felt cool and soothing. “Arlena and Sam seem like they have good chemistry. That scene they shot today was something else.”

“They sure do,” Penelope said.

Kelley applied a light coating of foundation to Penelope’s face and then brushed it with a faint bronzer. She dusted her eyelids with a pale gold sparkly eye shadow and swiped her lashes with black mascara.

“Are you wearing this?” Kelley said, looking down at Penelope’s stained sweater and stretched out jeans.

“Not if I can help it,” Penelope said.

“Oh thank goodness,” Kelley said with true relief. “I have a few things here from wardrobe. Let’s find something less…”

“Food stained?” Penelope asked.

“Yes, food stained.” Kelley agreed, nodding. She pointed to a rolling clothes rack in the corner where various pieces of clothes were hanging. “These are cute.” She grabbed a pair of tight black riding pants and a short cropped red jacket and held them up against her tall frame for Penelope to see.

“They’re nice. But I think it would look like I was trying too hard. I need casual. I’m only going to an apartment to talk.”

“A man’s apartment?” Kelley teased.

Penelope glanced away. “But it’s a casual man’s apartment. Not the North Jersey Horse Riding Club for cocktails and caviar.”

“I can work with that. Let’s see…how about these? They’re stretchy.” She held up a pair of dark blue jeans.

“Those are perfect.”

“What are you, a size six?” Kelley eyed her from the waist down.

“I was before Italian feast night.”

Kelley rolled her eyes and handed her the jeans. Penelope stripped off her dirty jeans and slid on the new pair, feeling them shrink against her legs. She hoped she’d be able to zip them up. She always felt puffier when she was working long hours. It was hard to stick to a good eating and workout routine, much less get enough sleep, when your work days were fifteen hours long.

She buttoned the jeans and glanced in the mirror, happy to see her stomach was still flat and tight above the low riding waistline. She pulled off her stained sweater and stood in her bra, looking eagerly through the wardrobe rack.

“How about this one?” Kelley held up a thin knit sweater, fuzzy and black with a dramatic low neckline. “Trying too hard still?” She waved the sweater on the hanger.

“Let me try it.” Penelope slipped it over her head and down into place. It fit perfectly, snug and tight but not too tight, and the neckline did a nice job of featuring her cleavage, which was almost always covered by a chef coat. She fanned her long blond hair over both of her shoulders, turning from side to side to see every angle. “I like it. Thank you so much, Kelley. I owe you one.”

“No you don’t. You always bring me dinner when I’m too busy to head down to the tent, which no set caterer has ever done for me before.” She motioned for Penelope to sit in the makeup chair again. “Let’s be sure we’ve got everything together.” She eyed Penelope’s face again and turned once again to her makeup tray, grabbing a tube of lip gloss. “One last finishing touch and you’re good to go to your casual man’s apartment.” Kelley tilted Penelope’s face upwards with her cool fingers, then unscrewed the lip gloss and began applying it to her lips.

Penelope glanced at the clock on the wall of the trailer and saw she had fifteen minutes to get to Joey’s. She had her coat and bag, so she could leave directly from Kelley’s trailer. She considered the route she would take, wondering if it would be faster to take the local roads or hop on the Turnpike. A faint, mildly unpleasant smell fluttered past her nostrils and she tilted her head farther back. She thought for a moment that maybe her sweater had been worn by an actress who had gotten sweaty while filming and it hadn’t been washed yet. “Do you smell that?” Penelope asked Kelley, lifting her arm to sniff her armpit. It smelled like a dry cleaner’s store, so it wasn’t her or the sweater.

“I smell something. Yuck, what is that?” Kelley glanced at the wastepaper basket under the counter. “Maybe my assistant threw her lunch out in here.” She picked up the waste basket from underneath the counter but it only contained some used cotton balls and a few tissues smeared with makeup.

“Wait…” Penelope grabbed Kelley’s wrist and pulled the lip gloss applicator down to her nose. “It’s this. The lip gloss smells funny.”

Kelley lifted the tube up to her nose and sniffed. She made a face. “It’s gone off or something. Which is ridiculous…this stuff is forty dollars a tube.”

Penelope smelled the applicator again. “It hasn’t gone off. It smells like clam juice.”