Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1) (15 page)

Chapter 24

The next day was a blur of work, an extra-long fifteen hours of filming. When Penelope got home that evening she was exhausted, trudging in through the kitchen door and dropping her bag on the base of the coat stand.

“Pen, you’re home,” Max said.

“Hey, Max. What are you up to?”

“I’m celebrating,” he said, nodding to a champagne flute in his hand. He poured a matching glassful, handing it to Penelope.

“What are you celebrating? It would be nice to hear some good news,” Penelope said, brightening slightly.

“MTV picked up our pilot. We’re signed to thirteen episodes. I got a job, Pen. We start filming next week.”

“That’s so cool, Max, Congratulations,” Penelope said, touching her glass to his. “What did Arlena say? I’m sure she’s thrilled for you.”

Max finished off his champagne then refilled the glass. “She and Dad are both pretty stoked. And I’ll be in the city, so I’ll be close by.”

“I can’t wait to see the show.”

“You’ll see it. You know you’re always welcome to stay with me when you’re in the city.” Max leaned down to kiss her.

Penelope stood still, exhaustion rooting her to the spot. Maybe she should let Max kiss her. There was no harm now that things were sort of awkward with Joey. She looked up into his eyes, anticipating his kiss.

Max’s expression changed from jovial flirting to serious and Penelope saw a touch of fear in his eyes. He brushed her lips with his once and then leaned down to give her a full kiss. She kissed him back, stepping closer to him and putting an arm around his neck.

“What do we have here?” Randall interrupted loudly from the doorway. Max and Penelope jerked apart, Penelope turning away, her face burning red.

“You ever hear of knocking, Dad?” Max asked, laughing nervously.

“Knocking on what? You guys are in a room without doors.”

“Hi, Mr. Madison,” Penelope said, wishing she could melt into the floor and disappear.

“Don’t mind me. I’m heading out,” he said. He clapped his son on the shoulder and grabbed his coat from the hooks by the door. “See you tomorrow,” he added as he left.

Max turned back to Penelope and said, “He’s gone.” He leaned in to kiss her again but Penelope put her hand on his shoulder instead.

“I’m beat, Max. See you tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I have to go to the city for a meeting about the show. But I’ll be around after that.”

“I’ll see you later then. Good night.” She placed her champagne glass on the counter and walked around him to head upstairs. Closing her bedroom door, she sat down heavily on her bed, thinking about what had happened. Kissing Max had been nice, but the whole time she couldn’t stop thinking about Joey.

She took a shower, standing under the water until it started turning cold, her mind bouncing between Joey and Max, making mental pro-con lists for both of them. By the time she climbed under her covers and switched off her bedside lamp, she’d decided to go in a different direction altogether. She’d focus on her work try to forget about having a relationship with either of them.

Chapter 25

Penelope got in early the next morning and began working on ideas for the wrap party menu. She’d had a solid night’s sleep and felt renewed, remembering a bit regretfully about her vow the night before to leave her man drama behind and work as hard as she could on her business.

Arlena and Sam ate lunch with everyone in the tent, mingling and laughing with the other cast members and some of the crew. Sal joined their table after everyone had finished eating and called an impromptu table read of the next scene they were filming. Penelope asked Francis to bring them coffee and a tray of fruit and desserts.

“Thanks, Pen, you’re a peach,” Sal said, waving to her from the table in the center of the room.

Penelope noticed several crew members lingering at their tables, either watching the actors practice their lines or talking quietly amongst themselves. She walked around the tent, straightening tablecloths, tucking abandoned chairs under tables and picking up forgotten plates and trays.

Freddie, one of the production interns, sat at a table in the corner writing in a composition book. He glanced occasionally at his phone or around the room.

“How are you doing, Freddie?” Penelope asked as she approached his table to clear away a few dirty plates.

“Oh, hey,” he said. “It’s all good today.”

“Good. Did you get enough to eat?” Penelope asked, stacking more plates from the adjoining tables.

“Oh, yeah. It was good, thanks,” he said, ducking his head and continuing to write in his notebook. He placed his heavily tattooed forearm over the page to obstruct her view, but Penelope could see that it was a screenplay. She noticed a header that read “Int. David’s Apartment. Day.”

“Working on a script?” Penelope asked casually, still busying herself with cleaning up around him.

He stopped writing and looked up at her. “I’m almost finished the first draft,” he said, shrugging his bony shoulders.

“Good for you,” Penelope said. “What’s it about?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Nothing. Well, it’s…not
nothing
. It’s a sci-fi horror story about a death metal band that makes a pact with the Devil to get famous. They get sucked into an alternate universe and they have to find their way out.”

“Wow. That sounds interesting,” Penelope said, tucking her hands into her pockets under her apron. “Working on a project with someone like Sal will look good on your resume. I won’t be surprised if you get a script produced someday. I can say I knew you when.”

Freddie peered shyly up at her. “That’s the dream, it’s such a competitive business, though. It’s hard to break through unless you know somebody.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing. You’re in the right place to get discovered, at least,” Penelope said.

“I suppose.” Freddie’s phone vibrated on the table between them and Penelope saw the contact name BRAWL pop onto the screen with a text message below it that read. “Done. 5K. DIK.” Freddie snatched the phone from the table and clicked the button to darken the screen. He stood up and tucked it in his front jeans pocket, stretching his arms over his head. “Thanks again for lunch. See you around.” He grabbed his notebook and jacket and headed towards the other end of the tent.

“Yep. Later. Good luck with your script,” Penelope said to his back as he left.

When Penelope got home from work that night she heard Randall’s voice coming from the library. She sighed as she stood in the hallway, disappointed that her plan of curling up with a book in front of the fireplace before bed wouldn’t happen. She peeked into the room as she passed and saw the back of Randall’s head sitting next to a redheaded woman, and Max in one of the flanking chairs with Zazoo perched on his lap.

Max noticed her arrival and waved her into the room. Randall and his guest turned towards her.

“Hi,” she said slowly, surprised to see one of the actresses from the movie in her library. Then she remembered Randall meeting the buxom redhead at Sal’s dinner party.

“We’re going to watch Max’s pilot,” Randall said, draping his arm around the woman’s shoulders as they turned back to the TV.

“Come and watch it with us, Pen,” Max said. He scratched Zazoo’s ears with one hand and held a remote control in the other.

“Another time. I’ve got some work to do before bed.”

“Goodnight, Pen,” Randall said distractedly, focusing his attention back on his guest. She saw a brief moment of disappointment on Max’s face but by the time she reached the doorway and looked back he had turned on the TV and his attention was focused on the screen. Penelope paused for a moment in the doorway to watch the opening credits. Seven young people who she did not recognize, except for Max, all with famous last names were sitting in a rooftop hot tub in Manhattan. A montage of scenes flashed across the screen showing the group arguing, dancing at clubs, laughing and drinking. Penelope had a good idea of what the show was going to be like after a few seconds.

Chapter 26

Sal and Paige hosted Sunday dinner again that weekend, serving another delicious meal, this time a French-inspired spread with caramelized beef tenderloin and grilled organic pork chops. After dinner Sal once again pulled the actors into the study to go over his plans for the final week.

“Can I go over a few things with you for the wrap party?” Penelope asked Paige as they stood up from the dinner table.

“Sure. Let’s go in here,” Paige motioned to the kitchen.

Penelope was hoping she’d suggest they stay in the dining room or go to the barn outside so she could avoid another meeting with their chef. “Sure,” she said, reluctantly. The two of them pushed through the swinging door and into the kitchen where the chef and Charles were wrapping up leftover food and stacking dishes next to the sink.

The chef glanced up, his face red and sweaty under the bright kitchen lights, and then looked back down at the soup he was ladling into a storage container. Charles nodded at them as they made their way to the island. Paige propped her bony hip against the countertop and gave Penelope her attention, a glass of wine cocked in her other hand.

Penelope opened her notebook and began. “I was thinking we’d do something more upscale for the wrap party,” she said, pointing to a menu she had outlined on the page. “Slow roasted prime rib, pesto grilled chicken and then some roasted root vegetables in keeping with the season.”

“Very original,” the chef muttered under his breath.

Penelope ignored him and looked at Paige, who was reading the page in front of her.

“This is fine, Penelope. I like it. Ignore Jackson. He’s a jerk.” She raised her glass in a toast towards her chef.

The chef ignored her and poured the rest of the soup in the container, slapping the lid on top of it. “Finish this up, will you, Charles? I’ve got to go home and pack.”

“Sure, Chef,” Charles said.

Jackson walked past Paige and Penelope, grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door and left without another word.

“Jackson is very temperamental,” Paige chuckled. “But Sal loves him. He’s heading to Tuscany tomorrow, and we’ll meet him at the house there next week. I guess it’s takeout until we leave, right Charles? Poor Charles always gets the worst of him.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been cleaning all night so we’re in good shape,” he said. He walked over to the island and glanced down at the menu. “I think this will be very nice. We can use the rust colored tablecloths and white candles. Fall colors to tie in the name of the movie.”

“I love that idea,” Penelope said. “What do you think about running a red carpet from the house to the barn as a way to direct the guests?”

“Perfect,” Paige said, nodding. “Charles can ask about renting one.”

Arlena came through the swinging door. “We’re done, Pen. Ready?”

“I think we’re set here. Unless you have any questions, Paige?”

“I think we’re doing fine. I knew I could leave everything to you,” Paige said, finishing her glass of wine.

Chapter 27

Penelope sat in the cab of the truck the next afternoon, checking off her to-do list. She had to order all of the food for the last week of filming as well as for the wrap party on Sunday, tally up her team’s hours and get them to production for payroll, and submit three bids on upcoming jobs.

She hoped she and her team could go right into another film with maybe a week off in between. Two of the bids were for local jobs in New York and one was in California. Penelope always liked to work closer to home, but thought a change of scenery would do her some good. Either way, they would go wherever they won the bid.

Penelope’s phone buzzed on the dashboard and she glanced at it. AMT SECURITY flashed on the screen. She snatched up the phone and swiped open the screen to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is AMT Security Systems calling. Is this Penelope Sutherland?”

“This is Penelope,” she said, her chest tightening.

“Can you confirm your security word?”

“Zazoo,” Penelope said quickly.

“Thank you. I’m calling to report an alarm at your residence, a possible front door push in. Are you currently at home?” The woman’s voice sounded tinny and far away.

“No, I’m at work. But someone should be home. There’s been a break in at our house?”

“That’s what the system is reporting. It’s possible someone entered and didn’t disarm the system. This is the contact number we have.”

“This is my cell phone,” Penelope said.

“Is there a number we can call at the residence?” the woman asked. Penelope could hear her typing on a keyboard in the background.

“No. We don’t have a landline, and I don’t have anyone’s phone number who might be there. My housemate does though,” Penelope said. “Arlena Madison, you should have her info too.”

“We’ve attempted to call her, but only get a voicemail. We’ve called the police and they are en route to your residence now,” the woman said.

“What should I do now?” Penelope stammered, looking around the cab of the truck.

“We advise caution, ma’am,” the woman said. “Please do not attempt to enter your residence until it has been confirmed by the police to be safe. We’ve opened an incident ticket and will follow up with you after we get confirmation from the unit they’ve dispatched.”

“Thank you,” Penelope said.

The line clicked and went silent. Penelope pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a moment before sliding it into her bag.

Pulling the bag over her shoulder, she jumped down from the truck and walked to the prep tent where her chefs were getting the dinner salads ready.

“Francis,” she said. All four of her team glanced up at her. “The alarm is going off at my house. I don’t know what’s happening yet.”

“We’ve got everything covered here, Boss. Go do what you have to,” he said, a concerned look on his face.

She thanked them and walked towards the trailers. She knew they were filming interior scenes in the warehouse today which was on the edge of the lot right past them.

Penelope saw Kelley emerging from the warehouse, her makeup bag slung heavily over her shoulder. “Kelley, are they still filming?”

“I think they’re wrapping soon, though,” she said. Her hair was bright pink today and Penelope thought maybe it was a wig this time. She looked like one of the Pink Ladies in
Grease
.

“There may have been a break-in at our house. I’m waiting for our security company to call back.”

“Oh no. You guys are having a rough time lately.”

“It sure seems that way. Hey, I haven’t seen your assistant around lately.”

“Sal said I had to let her go,” Kelley said, looking down at her shoes. “The thing with the lip gloss.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Penelope said.

“I’m lucky he didn’t fire me, too. She admitted that she left the trailer unlocked. I had to go through all of the other makeup and lotions and toss a bunch of stuff to be sure nothing else had been tampered with.”

“Do you think your assistant did the tampering?”

“Not sure. I can’t imagine she’d do something like that. I’ve known her since cosmetology school, worked with her a lot,” Kelley said, lost in thought for a moment. “I have to get back in there. I’m running out to grab more mascara. It’s a crying scene today.”

“Listen, the next time they break will you tell Arlena I’m heading home to see what’s—”

Penelope’s phone rang and she snatched it out of her back pocket. AMT SECURITY. She waved her phone at Kelley and answered it, quickly putting the phone up to her ear. Kelley nodded, whispered that she would give Arlena the message and walked towards her trailer.

“Is this Penelope Sutherland?” the woman’s voice asked.

“This is Penelope.”

“Can you confirm your security word, please?”

“Zazoo,” Penelope said, sighing. “What is going on at the house?”

“Thank you, ma’am. We have received notification from the police that your front door was breached as our alarm system reported.”

Penelope’s heart sank. She began walking towards the parking lot. “The police are there now?”

“Yes, ma’am. Reporting an injured party at the residence,” the woman said in an even voice, betraying no emotion.

“Injured? Who was injured?” Penelope asked, breaking into a jog.

“Police are reporting an injured party at the residence, but we have no further information.” The woman’s voice remained calm, which Penelope took some comfort from.

“I’m on my way,” Penelope said. She hung up and unlocked her truck. She sped through town and onto the parkway, keeping on the lookout for police cars. One in particular.