Death of a Christmas Caterer

Hayley and Sergio spent the next twenty minutes sifting through the file folders in Garth's office cabinet. They were nearly through all of it when Hayley stumbled across a white envelope stuffed with receipts for the current month of December. One of them caught her eye.

She picked it up and handed it to Sergio. “Take a look at this.”

“Who is Sammy Kettner?”

“Locksmith.”

Sergio studied the piece of paper. “Looks like Garth had a key made recently.”

“Look at the notation near the bottom. ‘Warehouse. ' Tiffany said Garth was paranoid about the local competition stealing his recipe files so he kept only one key to this place.”

“Maybe he just lost his key and had it replaced.”

“He would need the original key to make a copy. Were there any keys found on him?”

“A key to his car, one to his house, and one presumably to here.”

“Well, did the key to the warehouse look shiny and brand-new like it was a fresh copy?”

“No, as I recall, it was all scratched up and the copper was fading.”

“Then maybe Garth had a key made for someone else. And that person would have had access to the warehouse, and could have locked it when he or she left, leaving behind a dead body and food burning in the oven. . . .”

 

 

 

DEATH OF A KITCHEN DIVA

 

DEATH OF A COUNTRY FRIED REDNECK

 

DEATH OF A COUPON CLIPPER

 

DEATH OF A CHOCOHOLIC

 

DEATH OF A CHRISTMAS CATERER

 

 

 

A Hayley Powell
Food & Cocktails Mystery

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

“I hate Christmas!”

“You don't mean that,” Hayley said, gripping her four oversize shopping bags while racing to catch up with Mona, who was veering toward the crowded food court at the Bangor Mall.

“Yes, I do!” Mona barked as she plowed through a family of four that had failed to get out of her way fast enough. She made a beeline for Sbarro pizza and slapped her hand down on the counter, causing the pimply-faced kid behind the register to jump. “Pepperoni slice! Scratch that. Make it a whole pie!”

“Thanks, Mona, but I'm not really that hungry,” Hayley said.

“Good, because I wasn't offering. If I'm going to get through this day, I'm going to need a large pizza and a pitcher of beer. I am so sick and tired of these annoying holiday crowds swarming around here in a panic like rats on a sinking ship!”

Hayley noticed a little curly-haired blond cherub, around six years old, in an adorable reindeer jumper listening to Mona and fearfully clutching her mother's coat. “Mona, lower your voice. You're scaring children.”

“Kids are the worst! Snot-nosed, screaming brats! You know Christmas would be so much better if it was adults only. Just some spiked eggnog, a warm fire, and a
Duck Dynasty
marathon on TV. Heaven!”

Mona suddenly noticed the pimply Sbarro employee in his creased paper hat just staring at her. “What? Do I have to come back there and knead the dough myself? Hop to it! I'm starving!”

The kid nodded, turned quickly, and accidentally knocked over a stack of paper cups because he was so nervous dealing with this possibly unstable customer.

“And no husband!” Mona barked. “He's more whiny and needy than my boatload of kids. Honestly, Hayley, just one year I'd like to spend the holidays putting my feet up and relaxing instead of brawling with some sumo-wrestling supermom who wants the last Power Wheels Barbie Jammin' Jeep for her spoiled-rotten spawn!”

“You really do paint a picture, Mona.”

Mona eyed the pimply kid; his hand shook as he ladled tomato sauce onto the pizza dough and splashed it around before slipping on a plastic glove and dunking his hand into a vat of mozzarella cheese.

Hayley rummaged in her coat pocket, pulled out a slip of paper, and then began to peruse it. “Look at how much stuff I still have to buy. I knew we should have gotten our Christmas shopping done right after Halloween. I never learn. Every year I plan on going early to avoid the crowds on Black Friday. And then I never get around to it and I have to go on Black Friday, but this year I had the flu the entire Thanksgiving weekend and now I'm way behind on everything.”

“Don't get so worked up, Hayley. You need to chill,” Mona said.

With her mouth agape, Hayley glanced at Mona, but Mona missed the jaw-dropping irony of her statement. Mona was too busy pounding her fist on the counter and yelling at “Sbarro Boy.”

“Did you go to Italy to pick up the pepperoni? How long does it take to get a pie in the oven?”

“Mona, if you don't stop shouting at the poor boy, he's going to have a nervous breakdown!”

Mona groaned and turned to the frightened teenager. “Sorry, kid, I'm like a growling bear when I'm hungry,” she said, slapping a twenty-dollar bill down on the counter. “This is yours if I'm chowing down my pizza in the next ten minutes.”

Sbarro Boy had that pie in the oven in nineteen seconds and was now grinning from ear to ear.

Hayley studied her list. “Gemma wants an iPad mini and Rihanna concert tickets. Dustin wants one, two, three . . . six video games for his Xbox. There's no way I can afford all of this.”

Mona dipped into her coat pocket, pulled out a pen, and thrust it in Hayley's face.

“What's that for?”

“Start crossing stuff off. Seriously. Why put yourself through this? Your kids will appreciate whatever you can afford to give them.”

“You're right. I don't know why I feel the need to go overboard every year.”

Hayley's cell phone chirped. She pulled it out of the back of her jeans and looked at the caller ID. “Oh, God. It's Danny.”

“Don't answer it,” Mona warned.

“I have to. The kids are going to go visit him during February vacation and I sent him their flight info this morning before we left for Bangor. He just needs to sign off and pay me back half the cost.”

Danny Powell was Hayley's ex-husband. He moved to Iowa after they divorced and was now living with a girl half his age named Becky.

Enough said.

“I swear, every time you talk to him, Hayley, he makes you feel bad. Let it go to voicemail.”

“ I really could use his help buying a couple of things on the kids' Christmas wish lists.”

“Have you
met
your ex-husband? Now you're just hoping for a friggin' Christmas miracle.”

Hayley smiled and clicked on her phone. “Hi, Danny.”

“Hey. Listen, this isn't going to work for me.”

“What?”

“These tickets you bought for the kids to come see me during their February break. Three hundred apiece? What were you thinking?”

“They were the cheapest I could find.”

“That's because you have them flying out on a Saturday. Weekends are always more expensive to travel.”

“I couldn't book them for a Friday because I work, Danny. I'm out of vacation days and I can't afford to take any time off right now.”

“How is that
my
problem?”

Unbelievable.

Hayley took a deep breath. “I understand how pricey it is. I was barely able to scrape together my half, Danny.”

“It's too expensive. I can't pay you right now.”

“I thought you were working extra shifts at Wal-mart during the holiday season.”

“Yeah, but I got bills to pay, Hayley. You know how much it costs to heat our house in Des Moines during the winter?”

“No, I don't, Danny. Because it's just fun in the sun here in Maine!”

Hayley heard girlish giggling on the other end of the phone. “Who's that?”

“That's just Becky. We're having a Christmas party here for a few friends and she got into the holiday punch a little early. Happy hour somewhere in the world, right?”

“Merry Christmas, Hayley,” she heard Becky sing before she erupted into a fit of giggles.

“Tell her I said ‘Merry Christmas' back.” Hayley sighed.

“Are you talking to the girlfriend?” Mona asked.

Hayley nodded.

“Hey, Danny, what'd you get Becky for Christmas this year? A Crown Disney Princess Tea Set?” Mona yelled before snorting at her own joke.

Hayley quickly covered the phone with her hand. “He can hear you.”

“Good. Mission accomplished,” Mona said, laughing.

“Is that Mona?” Danny said.

Hayley could picture her ex scowling. He never did like Mona. Mostly, because Mona always despised him and never wanted Hayley to date him, much less marry him.

If Hayley had only listened to Mona in high school!

But then again, he did help her bring two of the most amazing kids into the world—just one mother's opinion.

“Well, you tell her I'm taking Becky to Bermuda for Christmas!” Danny shouted. “That's right! We'll be lounging by the pool while she's trying on that pair of itchy gray wool socks her deadbeat husband buys her every year.”

“Wait. What? I thought you just said you were broke.”

There was a long, uneasy silence.

“Danny? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I'm here.”

“You're going to Bermuda?”

“Now don't jump down my throat. We got a good deal. And I bought the package before I knew how much the kids' plane tickets were going to cost.”

“
That's
why you can't pay me back?”

The only place Danny had ever taken Hayley when they were married was to a campground in Moose Head Lake one weekend. They had to leave that spot early, since it rained the whole time and a Maine black bear ate all of their supplies while they went into town to buy umbrellas and a box of wine.

Hayley didn't want to engage Danny any more than she already had. She took another deep breath and calmly held the phone to her ear. “Okay. I'm sure you'll pay me back, just as soon as you can.”

“Absolutely. There's a girl at work who is about to drop a baby after New Year's and she's promised to give me some of her shifts while she's out on maternity leave so I can make some extra cash.”

“Fine. Now would you do me a favor? Dustin really wants this new
Metal Gear
video game that just came out and I was hoping you might be able to—”

“No. I told you, Hayley. I'm broke.”

“It's under thirty dollars.”

“No can do. Sorry.”

“What? Did you spend your last twenty bucks on a new thong for Becky?”

She just couldn't resist.

“You really should stop spoiling the kids, Hayley,” Danny said.

“Please. Not this again.”

“You do this every year. Every December, around this time, your bank account is empty and yet you just can't help yourself. You max out your last working credit card buying all of this junk the kids don't need just so they have a nice Christmas. And we both know why.”

“I don't need a lecture from you, Danny.”

“You overcompensate because you feel guilty.”

“Somebody's been watching
Dr. Phil
again.”

“It's true. You divorced me, and now the kids are the victims of a broken home, and you can't live with yourself, so you go all out to make up for it during the holidays, just to alleviate some of the guilt.”

“‘Alleviate'? I didn't know you played Words With Friends.”

“You can make fun of me all you want. We both know I'm right.”

“Have fun in Bermuda,” Hayley said, pressing the red end button on her smartphone screen.

She turned to Mona.

“Come on, Mona. Let's go. We have some serious shopping to do.”

“Don't let him get to you, Hayley.”

Hayley fished a Visa card out of her bag. “I think this one may have some credit left on it.”

“You're going to regret this, Hayley.”

“Gemma needs some new ski boots. Let's start at Dillard's.”

“What about my pizza?”

“Get it to go.”

Mona knew there was no point in arguing; Hayley was on a mission.

Hayley knew that when she was driving back to Bar Harbor in Mona's truck, the flatbed filled with shopping bags, she would realize Mona was absolutely right. Once again she had allowed her husband to get underneath her skin because she knew on some level he was right, and she just played into his hand by spending far too much money on the kids.

Was it so wrong to want them to have a merry Christmas?

She would just pray that there was no expensive emergency between now and the time Sal doled out her year-end Christmas bonus at the
Island Times,
where she worked.

But unbeknownst to Hayley, there was indeed going to be an emergency. A
really
big one. And it wasn't going to involve a threatening phone call from a creditor.

No. This emergency was going to involve a dead body.