Christmas Canapés & Sabotage: a Culinary Competition Mysteries holiday short story Read Online Free

the stool in front of her breakfast. "Sometimes it helps to talk things out. Tell me what you think is happening, get it off your chest, and maybe you'll feel better. The holidays are chaotic enough without worrying about things that are out of your control. I want to enjoy the holidays with you. Not worry that you'll have a nervous breakdown."
    Could anybody not be stressed out at Christmas? Maybe a man could, but a woman…not a chance. Party planning, gift buying, cleaning, cooking…cooking, cleaning, fighting crowds to discover the perfect gift sold out hours ago, engineering parties that would make a professional planner envious. Amy was spinning like a Tilt-A-Whirl run by a psychotic carnie. She hopped onto the stool. Hopefully Alex was right. Putting her ideas about what was happening at the contest into spoken words would help empty out the mess of thoughts clogging up her brain. She needed to concentrate on preparing food.
    "Tell me what you're thinking about," Alex prompted again.
    "Bea said she thought it was odd that the tablecloth at Halo Restaurant caught on fire. It looked to her like someone had purposely flipped over the candle in the middle of the table. Then, speaking of tables, all of the missing screws on the tables last night. Could they have fallen out from being moved around, or did someone take them out?"
    Alex raised his left eyebrow. Then his right eyebrow. "If the tables are from a rental company, they could be iffy. Lots of moving around from venue to venue and not a lot of maintenance. Although I wouldn't expect quite so many faulty tables at one place at the same time."
    So maybe those things did have a rational, non-villainous explanation. Amy took a deep breath and plunged on. "The prop disappearances were definitely a case of thievery. Was it the contest as a whole or specific contestants being targeted? Did someone just think the things would look nice at their house? Rayshelle was trying her best to pin the thefts on me, but what if she did it and was trying to divert attention to me? She enters all of the local contests that I do, but she has never even placed, let alone won. Maybe she's come up with tactics to win, beyond developing recipes."
    Alex raked his finger through his short, ginger-colored hair. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He hadn't shaved yet, so his whiskers softly scratched her nose. "Damn. That's a lot of suspicious stuff going on. It seems like too many things to be coincidence, but I'm not sure what the purpose would be. Maybe revenge or sabotage? A sore loser or a ruthless wannabe winner, like Rayshelle? Promise me you'll be careful. I would imagine most of the other competitors know who you are and your reputation for winning. If it's someone gunning for a win, they could decide to try to take out the front runners, like you."
    Over the past couple years Amy had honed her cooking and contest-entering skills. Cooking was something she had done for most of her life. As a child she had to cook her own meals if she wanted anything other than frozen meals and condensed soup. Learning how to impress judges with professionally worded recipes and beautifully plated food had taken some time. Lots of studying and note-taking. But just because she did her homework that didn't mean others weren't more than willing to cheat to win.
    "I know. I'll have to keep an eye out for anything else that looks suspicious, but I would much rather concentrate on arranging the perfect table than solving a big mystery that could really be just a case of massively bad luck."
    After the chatty breakfast with Alex, Amy felt better. Or maybe it was the afternoon of comforting cooking that soothed her crackling nerves. The kitchen was her favorite place to be, unless Alex was frisky. Then she preferred the bedroom. Whatever caused the chill outside didn't matter. She was glad she had arrived at the K Hotel calm, because playing a game of storage-bin-Jenga on a luggage trolley during a