Banana Muffins & Mayhem by Janel Gradowski

up concerning her appearance. When we found out we could book her to make an appearance in Kellerton, we were so excited since we both loved the show."
    "You couldn't have known what would happen," Amy offered as a way to try to help her friend feel better. It was basically the same reasoning she had used with the bookstore owner, but she couldn't think of a better thing to say.
    She could sympathize with the guilt both Rori and Aubergine were feeling. If the murder was randomly committed by a local psycho, Phoebe would still be alive. However, Amy had a hunch that scenario hadn't happened. It was possible—so was cracking an egg and finding two yolks inside—but unlikely. Amy gathered her rolled mat and tote bag. She turned toward the open door as a man was walking past in the hallway. Familiarity smacked her in the back of the head, but her sleep-deprived brain refused to budge on letting her know where she had seen him before. Since he was in Rori's studio, maybe she could help. "Do you know who that guy is?"
    Rori nodded. "The producer of Old House/New Style . I overheard him talking to the receptionist when he was checking in a few days ago. He said something about being stuck in town, so he was taking a few classes here to stay in shape."
    So he was part of the entourage that Sophie had mentioned. Now that Amy knew who he was, when exactly had she seen him before? Even though he was probably the person who had filmed the Charlotte versus Phoebe tablescape debacle, she didn't recall seeing him there. She tilted her head to the left and then the right—to stretch out her re-tightening neck muscles and try to jar loose the memory. As she stared at the window, an image appeared in her mind as though it were a Polaroid photo revealing itself. A photo. That's where she had seen him. He was the rumpled man who had been in many of her pictures of Phoebe at the cooking contest. No wonder she hadn't looked nervous with him lurking so near. He wasn't a stalker. He was her boss.
    "I have another class to teach soon," Rori said as she turned toward her office at the end of the corridor. "Have a good day."
    "Thanks. You too. I hope we both get some sleep tonight."
    Amy stepped into the hall. Had the producer gone into a classroom or the restroom? She killed some time by finding a hair elastic in her tote bag then pulling her locks back into a casual ponytail. It was windy outside, so she hoped her stalling tactic didn't look too suspicious. Then again, a man wouldn't understand how annoying it was to try to look through a curtain of tangled hair every time a breeze picked up. The door to the men's locker room at the end of the hallway opened, and the man emerged. Great . She had planned on talking to him, but hadn't managed to think far enough ahead to figure out what to say.
    He nodded a greeting as he approached. "Good morning."
    "Hello." Amy held up her finger as though she'd had a brilliant thought. And she had because she'd figured out how to start the conversation. The gesture stopped the man in his tracks. So she plunged onward. "You look so familiar, even though I don't think I've ever seen you here at the yoga studio before. For some reason, I'm connecting you with that poor murdered television star who was at the Cabin Fever Cure."
    He winced slightly. What part of her impromptu rambling speech had hit a nerve with him? He sighed then said, "That's probably where you recognize me from. I'm the producer of Phoebe Plymouth's show. I came to the event with her hoping to find some guests to appear on Old House/New Style ." He took a deep breath and let it out with a loud sigh. "You look familiar too."
    "My condolences. I'm so sorry for your loss." Amy nudged the bamboo floor with the toe of her shoe. "You probably recognize me from my win in the muffin cooking contest."
    He nodded an acknowledgment. "Ahh…that's it. Congrats." His clothes were different from what he had worn at the event, but the gray shorts and white cotton