Murder on a Silver Platter (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 1) by Shawn Reilly Simmons

are lots of Holly Andersons, looks like. Click on the Ledger article again, see if it’s been updated.”
    Penelope opened up the website and scrolled through the piece. “Look, breaking news at the top. It says she was a high school student from New York, and that her death has been ruled a homicide by investigators.”
    Arlena put her glass down on the island and looked closer at the screen.
    Penelope brushed the screen with her finger. “That’s her,” she said, pointing to a picture halfway down the article. It was a school picture of Holly, smiling thinly in front of a mottled blue backdrop.
    “Pretty girl, so young,” Arlena said.
    Penelope looked at the girl’s deep brown eyes and a wave of sadness washed over her. She placed the iPad down on the counter and took a breath, fighting a rush of unexpected tears.
    Arlena rubbed her shoulders. “Hey, it’s going to be all right,” she said softly.
    “I’m sorry. But how could someone murder a girl who isn’t even out of high school? What could she have possibly done to deserve that?”
    Arlena shook her head and rubbed harder. “It’s been a long day and it’s late. Let’s get some rest.”
    Penelope nodded and tapped the power button on her tablet, darkening the screen.

      
    Penelope was in the middle of a dream. For some reason Sam Cavanaugh was questioning her about her crab dip, dressed as a policeman. A loud crash jerked her awake and she sat straight up in bed. She held her breath, listening intently for more noises. She heard rustling and footsteps downstairs and decided it was coming from the kitchen.
    “What the hell?” she whispered, slipping quietly out of bed. She was wearing pink and green plaid pajama bottoms and a tight pink t-shirt with green stars on it. Her stomach did a flip when she remembered she hadn’t set the security alarm before heading up to bed. She pictured the scene from earlier, Arlena waving goodbye to Sam at the kitchen door with the disabled alarm pad next to it, the word DISENGAGED on the touch screen. She wondered if Arlena had remembered to arm the system before she’d gone to bed.
    Maybe Arlena was sleepwalking. Or maybe Sam was back to do some more workouts with Arlena. A crash from a pan landing on the kitchen floor sent goose bumps down her arms. She knew Arlena wouldn’t be cooking anything at one in the morning. She had a rule about not eating anything after eight o’clock. What was Zazoo doing? Normally he’d be barking his head off. Arlena must have him locked up in her room on the other side of the house.
    Penelope went out into the hallway and crept down the staircase.
    She peered around the corner into the hallway and saw a shadow move across the kitchen floor. There was definitely a man moving around in there. Maybe Sam had decided to come back and spend the night after all.
    She heard the flick of a lighter and then smelled cigarette smoke. Nope, it definitely was not Sam, Mr. My-Body-is-a-Temple. No way would he be smoking, especially not in front of Arlena, who hated cigarettes more than she hated cellulite.
    Penelope tiptoed on her bare feet to the hall closet and opened it, looking for something to protect herself with. The closet was full of designer coats. Not much protection there. She looked up at the shelf over the coasts and saw the rim of a tennis racket sticking out.
    “Better than nothing,” she murmured. She grasped the racket in both hands and headed back towards the kitchen, wrinkling her nose at the cigarette smoke. She felt for her cell phone in her back pocket, then remembered she was wearing pajamas and her phone was charging up next to Arlena’s phone and iPad on the kitchen counter.
    Wonderful place for it to be right now . There was no landline in the house. Neither she nor Arlena were home often enough to justify having a house phone. Arlena could be gone for weeks at a time depending on her filming schedule.
    She came to the left-hand doorway of the kitchen and peeked