Shrimply Dead by Maggie Toussaint

Author:Maggie Toussaint
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: culinary cozy, amateur sleuth, pets in mysteries, cozy mystery, women sleuth, island setting, catering business
Publisher: Muddle House Publishing
Published: 2021-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Right at noon the next day, I arrived at Island Creamery with four batches of cookies and an ice cream cake. To my surprise, a line of ten people waited in the shop for my cookies and cake.

“How is this possible?” I asked as I unloaded the van. “You said you didn’t buy ads or radio promo spots for adding baked goods to the Tuesday lineup.”

“I didn’t, hon, but your items are that good,” Pete said, handing each batch of baked goods to an assembly line of helpers. “I mentioned earlier that you’d gone viral.”

“So you did, but I wish there was another word for when something takes off, business-wise.”

“You want viral for product sales. It’s the best form of advertising there is.”

“If you say so. I thought bringing these cookies in would lead to more catering gigs. So far, no new business opportunities off those cookies.”

“It’ll come. You’re operating on a wider platform now. Plus you have the cookie income, which should be making a difference in your company’s bottom line.”

My bank account had never been so flush with money. For tax simplicity, we’d decided to keep the income from our businesses separate, though we each contributed through owner draws to our joint account. “It does. Thanks for thinking of this.”

“You sure you’re all right with Patsy helping this evening? I have two trainees working today, and I didn’t want to stick them with a potentially busy event on their first week of work.”

“I’m fine with Patsy. And truthfully, it will be fine with LaShaundra’s friends. Patsy and I work well together.”

~*~

LaShaundra’s guests fell on my food like piranhas. The Boom Boom shrimp and celery stalks went as soon as I put the serving dishes down. I was afraid people would fuss about the shrimp’s battered exterior, but the oven-crisped, gluten-free casings were yummy, if I did say so myself. For the main course, we served broccoli slaw, baked apples, roasted catfish, Brussel sprouts, homemade tortillas, spicy sauce, and crab legs with butter.

The Death by Chocolate layer cakes were huge hits, as expected. With twelve guests, once one person wanted seconds, they all wanted them. Over the hostess’s brandy and my coffee, LaShaundra asked me to come sit with her patrons. Tonight they’d all dressed as if going to a Jimmy Buffet concert, so I felt overdressed in my white blouse and black trousers.

“What’s this about alligators running wild on the island?” Chris Greenlaw asked. Instead of blue sequins, tonight she sported a Margaritaville tee, tied above the belly, Daisy Duke shorts, hot pink nail polish on her toes, and platform lime green flipflops.

“They were here first and we only think it’s our island. They’re dangerous. Steer clear of any gators you see, same as you would any other threat down here.”

Everyone had more questions, including Dena who asked if the gator guy was cute. Another guest, Avon, asked if it was safe for them to walk on the beach.

I fielded all the questions with common sense answers, ending with, “It is safe to walk around public places on Shell Island.

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