Clambake Murder: A Rocky Cove Culinary Cozy - Book 2 by Summer Prescott

Chapter 1
    Caterer
Becca Rogers was caught up in the whirlwind of New England Clambake season,
which just so happened to coincide with wedding season, graduation season and
family reunion season. There were so many clients on the schedule that Becca
was glad that she had her best friend and Catering Manager, Katie Simms to keep
her on track. Katie was a typical Type-A personality who was positively gifted
in making certain that every detail was in place, all I’s dotted and all T’s
crossed. She had been there for Becca since the very beginning of the now
highly successful catering business, and was in it for the long haul.
    Head
chef, Julio, poked his head into Becca’s office to let her know that she had a
visitor waiting in the reception area. She thanked Julio, frowning as she tried
to figure out who could be dropping in. She was booked for the entire day with
pre-scheduled appointments and didn’t really have time to see a walk-in client,
but summoned up a cordial smile nonetheless as she entered the lobby.
    “Ms.
Rogers?” a tall, blond man in an impeccably tailored suit extended his hand in
greeting.
    “Yes.
Mr….?” she shook his hand.
    “Jenkins,
Samuel Jenkins,” he supplied, producing a business card for her.
    Becca
read the title and company listed on the card and knew immediately what the
visit was about. Executive Liaison, Samuel C. Jenkins, Foster Development
Corp.
    “I
already told your representative on the phone, Mr. Jenkins, I have no interest
in selling my home. Badgering me about it and dropping in at my place of work
during the busiest season of the year will certainly not endear me to the
idea,” she stated firmly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.” She
turned to head back to her office, fuming.
    “But
Ms. Rogers…” the man trailed after her, determined.
    Becca
whirled to face him, fire in her eyes. “The answer, Mr. Jenkins, is no. Good
day!”
    His
jaw muscles flexed as he clenched his teeth, managing to smile in a way that could
only be described as sinister. “This isn’t over, Ms. Rogers,” he threatened,
turning on his heel and blazing toward the exit.
    “Who
was that hot-headed hunk of a man?” Katie asked, appearing at Becca’s door a
few minutes later.
    “A
henchman for the developer who wants to bulldoze my beautiful little bungalow
to build a beachfront resort,” she replied, sighing and shaking her head.
    “Wow,
they don’t give up easily, do they?” Katie mused, sitting down across the desk
from her boss and friend.
    “No,
they don’t. There is absolutely no way that I’m going to give up my cozy little
house so that they can spoil our beautiful beach with a commercial monstrosity.
If they continue to harass me about it, I’ll have no choice but to contact an
attorney. It’s getting ridiculous.” She tapped her pen absently on her desk,
frustrated.
    “What
do your neighbors think?”
    “The
Marshalls are never there, I think they rent their house out for the season,
but the house is often vacant in the winter, and Sally Case, on the other side,
agrees with me and refuses to budge. That house has been in her family for
quite some time. Foster wants to put the hotel on our side, because we have
beach access, and build condos across the street. Hubert Finch has already
signed a contract over there from what I hear.” Becca gazed dismally at the top
of her desk. Drama like this was the last thing she needed right now.
    “Well,
it’s understandable for Hubert. He lost everything when the Sand Castle closed
a couple of years ago. I don’t know how he’s survived this long,” Katie
shrugged. Hubert Finch had run one of the most popular bars on the strip until
a well-known franchise bar and grill opened up across the street. Locals still
patronized the Sand Castle, but the scads of tourists that came through every
summer spent their money at the mass-production outlet with the familiar name,
bringing about its eventual demise. Hubert