Marinating in Murder Read online

  PRAISE FOR

  TOASTING UP TROUBLE

  “A savory morsel of mystery and culinary goodness. Food lovers will delight in the meal planning and the mystery as both are rich with surprising ingredients. Wiken has a winning recipe with spunky heroine J.J. Tanner and the Culinary Capers Dinner Club. I can’t wait to be invited to their next event.”

  —Jenn McKinlay, New York Times bestselling author of the Cupcake Bakery Mysteries

  “Wiken serves up generous portions of suspense and food lore … I’m already looking forward to a second helping with book two.”

  —Victoria Abbott, national bestselling author of the Book Collector Mysteries

  “This story has it all: murder, mystery, and food. Wiken weaves a tale that will have readers guessing up until the very end. With the introduction of characters who are fun, quirky, and quite charming, fans will want to come back to Half Moon Bay for more. The pace of the book is quick and the writing is solid, so it keeps the interest of readers. Great new cozy series!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “A delicious new culinary mystery that is absolutely to die for … A great start to a new series and I can’t wait to see what happens next for these characters.”

  —Moonlight Rendezvous (5 stars)

  PRAISE FOR

  ROUX THE DAY

  “The story is fun and has so many twists and turns that readers will have a hard time guessing who the culprit is … A very enjoyable read.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “The characters are well-developed, realistic, and very likable … An entertaining mystery that will be hard to put down once you begin.”

  —Thoughts in Progress

  “A deliciously entertaining cozy mystery with plenty of suspects and talk about food.”

  —Open Book Society

  Titles by Linda Wiken

  TOASTING UP TROUBLE

  ROUX THE DAY

  MARINATING IN MURDER

  BERKLEY PRIME CRIME

  Published by Berkley

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  Copyright © 2018 by Linda Wiken

  Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.

  BERKLEY is a registered trademark and BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the B colophon are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Ebook ISBN: 9780698183230

  First Edition: March 2018

  Cover art by Anne Wertheim

  Cover design by Katie Anderson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

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  CONTENTS

  Praise for Toasting Up Trouble

  Praise for Roux the Day

  Titles by Linda Wiken

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Recipes

  About the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It’s been such a delight writing each of the Dinner Club Mysteries. What wouldn’t be fun about food! Of course, there’s a lot of research involved—buying cookbooks, preparing, tasting, tasting again. “Hard” work, right? And then, wrapping this all around a mystery.

  My sincere thanks to Kate Seaver, my editor, and the entire gang at Berkley Prime Crime for this privilege. Also, to my clever and supportive agent, Kim Lionetti from BookEnds Inc. The journey has been incredible.

  As usual, closer to home—in fact, a few blocks away—thanks to my sister, Lee McNeilly. Not only is she my first reader but also my first taster. Now, that’s above and beyond the call of sisterhood. Many thanks to my dear friend Mary Jane Maffini, aka Victoria Abbott, for being there with a shoulder and advice. Also, thanks to all those wonderful writing friends along the way: The Ladies’ Killing Circle, the fellow foodies at Mystery Lovers’ Kitchen, and those at the other fun blog spot, Killer Characters. I wish all of you continued success in your writing careers. The writers in the mystery world are an amazing group of people who willingly and luckily share in the joys and frustrations of the writing life.

  And, thanks to the many booksellers and librarians who take such joy in telling others about books. And to you, the reader, a special thank-you, because without you, this would just be words on pages. In the reading of it, you bring it to life.

  CHAPTER 1

  The horn of a passing car blared so loudly, J.J. Tanner almost knocked herself out when her head snapped up and hit the doorframe of the SUV she was helping to pack.

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

  “Are you okay, J.J.? It’s that idiot Darrell Crumb making an ass of himself each time he passes by.” Alison Manovich glared at the taillights of the old beat-up Ford pickup.

  J.J. rubbed the back of her head and tried not to wince too much. “An admirer, is he?”

  Alison made a face. “Just erase that thought from your head, girl. He’s the last guy on earth I’d be interested in, if I were even interested in meeting someone.”

  “Can’t you do one of your cop things and arrest him for harassment or such?”

  “Not worth the effort. So far.” Alison leaned the folding camp chairs up against the side panel inside the back of her silver SUV. “There should be enough room for a couple of coolers in here. Surely all the food we need for the annual Culinary Capers dinner club picnic will fit into two.”

  J.J. joined her at the back of the SUV and glanced in. “I’d say that’s plenty of room. In fact, there’s also lots of space for Beth, Connor, and me. And if Evan decides to drive his new sports car, he can put some food on his passenger seat, after all. It will serve him right. Show-off.”

  J.J. grinned as she said it. Evan Thornton wasn’t really a show-off, just flamboyant at times. He’d been the one who’d invited her to join the dinner club after she’d moved to Burlington, Vermont, a couple of years earlier. She’d left behind a broken heart along with a broken engagement in favor of an offer to work for her friend Skye Drake’s event planning business, Make It Happen. Evan was their landlord, and now a close friend, as were all the members of the club.

  Alison shook her head, her blonde ponytail flipping from side to side. “Who
would have thought those two would just up and buy a sports car? It’s a totally new image for Evan and Michael. It must have cost a small fortune.”

  “Well, it’s not as if they have a family to support. They both have very good jobs and a house, so they’re entitled to play with a car.”

  Alison sighed. “You’re right, of course. I’m just seeing a little green, I guess.”

  “I can see you behind the wheel of a convertible, especially in your cop uniform. Now, that would be an attention-getter.”

  Alison’s response was drowned out by the very loud arrival of a motorcycle. Both women stared in surprise, wondering who’d joined the party. When the Harley-Davidson came to a stop just inches away from them and Connor Mac lifted off his helmet, they broke into shrieks.

  “OMG, when did you get that?” Alison asked, dancing around the shiny black bike, giving it a thorough once-over.

  “I picked it up this afternoon. What do you both think?”

  “I love it,” Alison answered first. “I’m in awe. I need a ride and soon.”

  Connor looked delighted. “Happy to oblige anytime.”

  J.J. eyed it skeptically. “I think the next time we go to a movie, I’m walking.”

  She smiled to keep it light. They’d gone out to one movie since the murder of his girlfriend last fall. It was complicated. He was still grieving. The bike was a total surprise. Maybe it was part of the recovery process. She had to admit, it looked like it might be working.

  Connor was another of the Culinary Capers gang, and she and he had dated on occasion before the fateful casino fund-raising cruise, organized by J.J., that had ended with one of the emcees dead. J.J. had been as surprised as the others to learn he’d been dating the murder victim, his former fiancée. And then she was dead. Fortunately, with the help of J.J. and his friends, he’d been proven innocent of committing the crime.

  “So, are you driving it to the picnic tomorrow?” Alison queried.

  “Of course. It’s going to be great weather and that’s exactly what a bike is for.”

  “What about your food?” J.J. asked. She wasn’t fond of motorcycles, feeling they were too loud and much too dangerous, but she tried not to let that show and put a damper on his obvious delight.

  Connor’s smile was all little-boy-begging. “I thought you might take it up for me, J.J. Maybe you could swing by on your way over here tomorrow morning?”

  J.J. groaned. She was such a pushover. “All right. But I have dibs on any extra chocolate that may find its way there.”

  “Are we going to convoy?” Alison asked, back to packing her SUV, stuffing a large golf umbrella behind the chairs.

  “I’m up for anything,” Connor answered, climbing off his bike and releasing the kickstand. He looked around. “No Evan or Beth yet?”

  “Well done,” J.J. said as Beth’s red van pulled into the driveway, stopping a few inches from the bike. “You must have conjured her up.”

  Connor had thrown up his hands to warn Beth away from his bike, an exaggerated look of terror on his face.

  Beth opened her driver’s door and leaned out. “Oh no. Don’t tell me. Connor, you didn’t go over to the dark side, did you?”

  “Yup.”

  “Lord help us.” Beth struggled out of the car and leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths and glaring at the bike.

  “Are you all right, Beth?” J.J. asked. Beth looked even more tired than usual. Maybe it had been an exhausting day at her Cups ’n’ Roses café. She hoped that’s all it was. J.J. marveled at the amount of stamina her older friend seemed to always have. After retiring from her career as a high school music teacher, Beth had started up the café, which proved to be another full-time job. But she always seemed to have time for the dinner club.

  “A little fatigued, that’s all.” Beth tucked her short hair behind both ears and turned to the street. “Evan wanted to drive his new baby over so I expect he’ll be making his big entrance any minute now.”

  On cue, a shiny red Miata, top down, pulled up in front of Alison’s town house. Evan parked, blocking the driveway, and took his time getting out and sauntering over to the rest of the Culinary Capers dinner club members.

  “Do you like it?” He beamed like a proud papa. Then he noticed the Harley. “What’s this? Am I to be outdone by a biker?” He added a note of scorn to his voice but smiled.

  “Boys and their toys,” Beth said in a loud voice, and wandered over to Alison’s SUV. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nope,” Alison said. “I think with the chairs pushed up against one side, there’ll be plenty of room for most of the food. You’re riding with me tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “I’d be happy to.” Beth looked at Evan. “And just what are you going to be able to bring along to the picnic in that cream puff?”

  “I thought I’d bring J.J.”

  J.J.’s mouth dropped open. “First I’ve heard of it, but I’d be delighted. Can I drive?”

  Evan sputtered. “In a word, no.”

  He leaned into the car, pulled out a long red scarf, and passed it to J.J. “But you can wear this. Don’t you think it brings a certain je ne sais quoi?”

  “Very continental, sir. But I seem to remember that a long scarf and a sports car can be a deadly combination. Remember Isadora Duncan? The dancer? Mid-1920s? It proved fatal for her.” J.J. grimaced. “And where did you get the scarf? Did it come with the car?”

  “It was a gift from the salesperson I bought the car from. A woman.” He grinned and wrapped it around his neck. “Now, what’s the final game plan?”

  “I was just saying we could meet here at, what?—say, ten—load up, and then convoy over to North Hero Island,” Alison suggested. “It shouldn’t take too much more than half an hour to reach the beach and if we get there early, we can snag a good picnic table.”

  J.J. shot a covert glance at Connor. North Hero Island had played a big part in all that had happened in the fall. He didn’t let on if he was upset.

  “I have a wonderful fold-up table that would be perfect,” Beth offered. “It would be sort of dreamy with a flowing white lace tablecloth, which I just happen to have.”

  “Oh, and I could bring candles with hurricane covers,” J.J. offered, getting into the spirit.

  “Very glam,” agreed Evan. “Flowers. I’ll pick up a small floral centerpiece on my, on our, way.”

  Alison folded her arms. “It all sounds delightful, but I think I’m the hostess this month and, although I do appreciate the input, I’d really like just an old-fashioned picnic table with an oilskin cloth that I’ll bring. It’s what my mom always used for our family picnics.”

  Beth looked apologetic. “I tend to get carried away sometimes. I’m sorry, Alison. Not my month so not my place to take over. I look forward to a good old-fashioned picnic.”

  “We all do,” J.J. added. “Your turn to host the dinner, your choice of cookbook, your choice of, well, everything. And, I just wanted to thank you, Alison, for picking a cookbook this month with such wonderful photos. Summer Days & Balmy Nights is a real delight to thumb through.”

  Alison smiled. “I did it just for you, J.J. But I do hope you’ve actually read through it and picked a recipe from it.”

  J.J. made the sign of crossing her heart. “I always play by the rules, Alison. And I know that tomorrow will be most memorable.”

  CHAPTER 2

  J.J. stopped in the hall as she was passing her neighbor Ness Harper’s door and knocked. He answered so quickly she was certain he must have been on his way out but he still had his bathrobe on. And an unfriendly expression which changed immediately on seeing J.J.

  “Heading out kind of early for a Saturday, aren’t you?” he asked, peering around her and looking in both directions along the hall. His salt-and-pepper hair, often a bit on the scruffy side, stood out at odd angles. Maybe he was ill. That would be a first.

  “Are you okay, Ness?”

  “Uh, sure. Why wouldn’t
I be?”

  How odd. “No reason, I guess. And, it’s not really that early. It is nine fifteen.”

  She thrust the covered glass dish she was holding at him. “I made an orange, endive, and black olive salad for our Culinary Capers picnic today and have some extra. I thought you might like to try it.”

  Ness claimed the bowl and looked in both directions again. “Uh, thanks, kid. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. You have a good time, now, you hear.” He backed into his apartment and shut the door.

  J.J. stared at the door. What was that all about? Usually he liked to talk food; he’d often question her about recipes and ingredients. She looked both ways along the hall and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe he was just having an off day. What was he, about sixty-seven or so? Who knew what odd behavior might occur in a retired cop. She shrugged it off but made a mental note to stop in later that night.

  She’d just pushed open the front door to the lobby of her apartment building when Evan pulled up to the curb. The sun highlighted the blond streaks he’d recently had added to his spiky red hair. The dark sunglasses with the enormous black frames added to his dashing image. And his usual bow tie—red and white polka dots today—was the finishing touch. His Miata glistened in the sunlight, and from the water drops on the hood.

  J.J. opened the door and hopped into the passenger seat. “Drive through the car wash on your way over?”

  “No way. I don’t trust those brushes and things. Not when I have a driveway and a perfectly good hose at home.” He glanced at J.J. “You’re very observant for so early in the morning.”

  “Even though everyone is insisting it’s early, it isn’t. I’ve been up for hours and even had my walk.”