Read Online Murder Follows Money by Lora Roberts - Free Book Online Page B

trouble at all. Watching Drake poach eggs, I had gotten the idea that it was a major operation with a chancy outcome, but Kim did it in minutes with no fuss. She’d nestled the eggs into hollows in the sauce that topped the warmed tortillas and chorizo, before sprinkling on the grated cheese. She put the casserole in the oven, and Greg showed us how to program it to bake the dish and then turn off.
    I introduced Judi to Kim. “What do you want us to do?”
    “I’m just going to cut up some more limes and make sure all the condiments are okay.” She had arranged a pottery bowl of avocados, limes, and peppers on the counter. “Liz, could you look in the cooler and find that container of sliced avocado? And the jicama batons you cut this afternoon?”
    I checked in the zippered cooler bags, bringing out the containers she wanted. “Here. Should I put them on a plate or something?”
    “These bowls look nicer.” Kim handed Judi a couple of terra-cotta-colored bowls with Aztec motifs, shinily glazed. “Could you do that? And Liz, find the paprika in the crate under here and put some in this little dish.” She handed me another terra-cotta dish, this one very small, stamped with a pattern of blackberries and twining vines. I filled it with paprika while Kim squeezed a couple of limes into its twin.
    “What’s this for?”
    “The jicama. You dip the end in lime juice, then in paprika. It makes a nice-looking accompaniment.”
    “I did these,” I bragged to Judi, showing her the tray of drink skewers I’d made with alternating maraschino cherries and small cubes of prickly pear cactus. “For the tequila sunrises."
    “The Sunrise Brunch Beverage,” Kim corrected absently. She’d set up one end of the counter with a pitcher of orange juice, another of grenadine, a bottle of tequila, and the skewers. “You can make them without booze.”
    Judi admired the skewers, then looked around. “Where’s Hannah? For that matter, where’s Naomi?”
    Kim cast a worried glance behind the demonstration area, where a hallway led to offices and restrooms. “Hannah’s freshening up in the manager’s private bathroom. Naomi was supposed to help her, but when I was back there, she’d found the manager’s private stock of Scotch.”
    “Naomi’s drinking?” Judi pursed her lips.
    “She isn’t an alcoholic or anything,” Kim said defensively, “but when she starts, it can get ugly.”
    “Thanks for the tip.” I couldn’t figure out how Naomi could get any meaner, and wasn’t anxious to know firsthand.
    “Fill me in quickly,” Judi said as we left Kim at the counter, mincing scallions. “And aren’t you lucky,” she added, “that the food stylist is very nice and willing to do the prep work. Usually they are picky about what they do.”
    “Kim’s delightful.” People were coming up the stairs for the event. Platters of fruit and cheese and bottles of red and white wine had been set out on a side counter, and the customers stood around convivially, chatting as if it was a party. “It’s very nice here. Must be costing FanciFoods an arm and a leg to put all this food out.”
    “The audience paid handsomely to attend.” Judi nodded at a couple of women nearby, each of whom clutched a copy of Hannah Hosts Brunch . “This is the first program in a series. FanciFoods was lucky to get such a big name to kick it off.”
    Naomi appeared at the hallway opening. She pushed her way through the crowd around the food and helped herself recklessly to the sauvignon blanc.
    Judi watched this with a brooding eye. “So what’s happening? Put me in the picture.”
    “Naomi and Hannah have been fighting practically since the moment they landed. It got really nasty in the dressing room at the TV station.”
    “They were yelling?” Judi grimaced. “Terrible place to pick for a falling out. There’ll be gossip for sure.”
    “It seemed kind of personal. Each of them accusing the other of—well, eliminating anyone who