Green Living Can Be Deadly (A Blossom Valley Mystery) by Staci McLaughlin Page B

festival wouldn’t be bringing in extra business, considering there were still no people. I restacked the brochures and then fanned them back out again. I tested each pig pen to make sure they were oinking correctly. I nudged each table leg with my Vans to make sure I’d set the table up properly. When I spotted Zennia heading my way, I almost cheered. “Zennia, you’re here. It’s so nice to have some company.”
    She heaved a Crock-Pot onto the table. “I’m afraid I can’t stay. I have to get back and finish preparing lunch for the guests. But I was hoping you’d have time to set up these samples for the attendees. The cups and spoons are in my backpack.” She set the pack on the ground.
    “More corn salad?”
    “No. I wanted a power pack of vitamins and minerals, so I’m trying a new recipe with cabbage, broccoli, and tofu, with a little calamari thrown in to remind people how close we are to the ocean.”
    I felt my nose scrunch up in an automatic reflex. “Did you say cabbage and broccoli?”
    “Try not to make that face when people ask about it,” Zennia said.
    “Sorry. I’ll smile as though I won the lottery.”
    “Good, now I’ve got to run.”
    She retrieved her keys from the backpack on the ground, gave me a quick hug, and hurried to her car.
    I lifted the Crock-Pot lid, caught a whiff, and slammed the lid back down, afraid one of the calamari might crawl out.
    I unzipped the backpack to pull out the cups Zennia had mentioned, not that anyone would try a sample. As I straightened up, I found Kimmie standing on the other side of the table. In a tailored, knee-length sheath dress, with her hair pulled back in a sleek bun, she could be a top-notch fashionista.
    “Dana,” she said in a tone that told me I’d probably prefer to eat the cabbage concoction than hear whatever she was about to say, “I have been waiting and waiting for your status report, but it hasn’t arrived. Didn’t you get my e-mail with the form attached?”
    “Yes, I got it, but I don’t think a status report is going to work for me.” Especially since I wasn’t her employee, though she seemed to be confused on that point.
    Kimmie put a hand to her throat and tapped her foot. I got the idea not many people refused her demands.
    “But why not? We need to be organized. We need to keep track of everything you’re doing.”
    “First of all, I’m not doing much, simply talking to people. I think I can keep that straight.”
    Kimmie tilted her head at me. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes.” I lifted the top off the Crock-Pot, swinging the lid in an upward motion to make sure the stench would blow in Kimmie’s direction. “Calamari casserole?”
    She wrinkled her nose and stepped back. “Oh, yuck, stop.” She fanned a hand in front of her face. “I’m on my way to see my mother right now, so I can’t stay, but let’s get together tomorrow to talk about everything you’ve been doing.”
    “With all my work here at the festival, I’m not sure I can squeeze in a meeting.”
    “Can’t you please make time? I really want to know what you’ve found out about Wendy. You could stop by the restaurant at nine, before I open for brunch, and then be on your way.”
    I’d never had the chance to try Le Poêlon, Kimmie’s upscale restaurant. Besides being out of my price range, reservations were booked out months at a time. Would I actually get to try all that fantastic food Kimmie was always bragging about? My head filled with visions of eggs Benedict, with Dungeness crab, and crêpes stuffed with mascarpone cheese and topped with strawberries. That alone would make the drive over to the coast worth the effort.
    “I suppose I could make that work,” I said, trying to imply I was doing her the favor. “I was already scheduled to take tomorrow morning off.”
    “Perfect. See you then. And don’t be late. I have things to do and can’t waste time waiting for you.”
    With that, Kimmie spun around on her spiky heels and