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“How did you come up with that number?” he asked.

“I found Kassie at approximately eighty thirty, give or take a few minutes. I know from talking to the people at the meeting they probably left around six o’clock.”

“More or less.” He hesitated. “Kassie made a phone call at about twenty after six.”

“So more like a two-hour time frame in which her death had to have occurred.”

Marcus smiled. “Hypothetical me would not argue with that.”

“Someone killed her,” I said. I felt better saying out loud what I had been thinking for the last twenty-four hours.

His expression grew serious. “We’re not talking in hypotheticals anymore, are we, Kathleen?” he said.

“No.” I shifted on my chair again. Hercules opened one eye and shot me a look of annoyance. “I did CPR on Kassie and I didn’t get any response. Her face was purple and blotchy and she wasn’t really warm. She was dead well before the paramedics got there. She was dead before I got there. There was no one else in that building other than Zach, and I’m pretty sure he couldn’t kill a spider. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense. What was she doing at the community center when everyone else was at Eric’s having supper?”

Marcus raked a hand back through his hair. “Maybe she was hungry and was looking for a snack. Maybe she forgot something and went back to get it.”

I was shaking my head before he finished talking. “She would have been at that meeting. It was a chance to needle everyone and stir up trouble. That’s the kind of person Kassie Tremayne was. I saw her in action at the meetings I went to.” I put one arm around Hercules as I leaned forward to make my point. “Someone killed her, Marcus. You know that just as well as I do. She wasn’t a nice person but she didn’t deserve that.”

For a long moment silence hung between us.

“I know,” he said finally. “That’s why I’m going to catch whoever it was.”

chapter 6

It was Wednesday before the medical examiner declared that Kassie Tremayne’s death was a homicide. He had ruled out a stroke, a heart attack, any kind of a seizure and an accidental fall. He’d also discovered lorazepam in her system, which would explain why there weren’t any injuries on her body other than the cut lip. She hadn’t struggled before her death because she had been drugged. I knew lorazepam was prescribed for anxiety among other things, and one of the drug’s side effects was drowsiness.

Marcus had found no prescriptions for lorazepam in Kassie’s name and no pills on her body or in her things. It suggested that whoever had killed her had planned to do it.

Elias had made putting together a tribute to Kassie a priority. I knew Richard and Eugenie were both participating, as well as Russell, Caroline and one of the associate producers.

Filming was done outside along the Riverwalk and inside at one of the baking stations on set. “Kassie would love it, you know,” Eugenie said as we sat in her office Thursday morning, each of us with a cup of tea and a butterscotch oatmeal cookie. “She did so like to be the center of attention.”

I had traded shifts with Abigail so I could spend all day Thursday at the show. Along with working at the library, Abigail was also a children’s book author. In June she was going on a short book tour and I’d be able to (happily) repay the favor then.

The show schedule had been adjusted once again and the latest episode was going to be filmed on Saturday and Sunday. It meant the crew would be paid overtime. They all seemed happy about that.

Eugenie had been tasked by Elias with bringing Peggy up to speed. “I need your help, Kathleen,” she’d said when she had called me Wednesday night. “Peggy doesn’t need to understand all the nuances of the show to film the next episode but she does need to understand a little about the remaining contestants and how we do things.”

“What would you like me to do?” I asked.

“Could you put together a basic biography for the six contestants that are still in the competition, please? As well as a bit of background on Richard? We wouldn’t want his nose out of joint because Peggy didn’t know how many celebrities he’s cooked for.” I could picture her smiling on the other end of the phone.

“I can do that,” I’d said.

“Here comes the difficult part,” Eugenie had said. “Can you put it all together for tomorrow morning? Elias will pay you double what you usually receive for your research.”

I didn’t have anything planned after work other than watching Netflix with Hercules. “I can do it,” I said.

Putting together the biographies turned out to be easier than I expected. I already knew enough about Rebecca and Ray. The newspaper had published an article on the show and talked to Kate and Charles. I discovered Stacey had been profiled by her hometown paper. And Caroline was happy to answer a few questions when I got in touch with her.

There was plenty of information about Richard online. The problem I had was deciding what to leave out.

I handed Eugenie what I had come up with now. “Stacey reads poetry to her kindergarten class? How marvelous!” she said as she scanned the pages. “Charles can tap dance?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

I nodded. When Maggie had invited Charles to our tai chi class he had asked if being a good tap dancer would help. Maggie had thought for a moment and then said, “It couldn’t hurt.”

I spent more than an hour going over every bit of information with Peggy. She knew Rebecca well, and Ray well enough to get by, which meant she only had to learn the backgrounds of the other four contestants. Eugenie had given us a brief rundown of everyone’s strengths and weakness as bakers: who handled the pressure well—Stacey, Rebecca and Ray—who got overwhelmed—Kate—and who had to be reminded to watch their language when something went wrong—Charles and, surprisingly, Caroline.

“How do all the contestants practice?” Peggy asked. “Ray and Rebecca live here so they’re okay but what about the others?”

“All the contestants are living in town while the show is filming,” I explained. “They all have places with fully stocked kitchens and anyone can work in the kitchen here if they want to.”

Peggy finally slumped against the back of her chair and smoothed both hands over her hair. “There’s a lot to remember,” she said, pushing aside the pages I’d printed.

I straightened the pile of notes into a neat stack. “Be yourself. That’s what they hired you for.”

Peggy smiled. “Harrison said the same thing.”

“Harrison Taylor is a very smart man,” I said.

She let out a soft sigh. “I keep having the sensation that I’m about to walk out on a stage stark naked.”

I shrugged. “If you do that, you won’t have to worry about what to say because no one will be paying attention to what’s coming out of your mouth.”

Peggy laughed and I knew she was going to do just fine.

I had brought my lunch with me and since the sun was shining and the temperature had gone up, I sat on a bench by the water to eat it. That morning was the longest amount of time I had spent working with everyone from the show. I’d spent a few minutes here and there with the bakers, Eugenie and Russell and even Richard and Kassie, but I hadn’t spent much time with the crew. It turned out everyone—from Norman, the PA with the obsession for Eric’s chocolate pudding cake, to the set designer who had happily hung the cat calendar for Eugenie—was so nice, so quick with a smile and an offer of a cup of coffee. I took a drink of the coffee I’d brought out with me. It was the good stuff, from the camera guys’ stash.

Maybe whoever killed Kassie wasn’t part of the show. I couldn’t think of a single person I seriously suspected. True, no one had really liked her all that much. And no one was really that broken up about her death. Elias had improved security, keeping more lights on in the building at night and installing temporary alarms on the other main-floor doors that would sound if they were opened.