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  PRAISE FOR THE FOOD LOVERS’ VILLAGE MYSTERIES

  Crime Rib

  “Budewitz’s latest is deliciously appealing . . . Cozy mystery lovers and foodies alike will enjoy this story of good neighbors, luscious food, and a bad egg (or two) who is capable of murder.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Mouth-watering descriptions of food are just as enjoyable as the characters . . . The unpredictable ending is the perfect dessert course for a well-planned menu of murder.”

  —Kings River Life

  Death al Dente

  “Small-town charm and big-time chills. Jewel Bay, Montana, is a food lover’s paradise—and ground zero for murder! A dizzying culinary delight with a twisty-turny plot! I’m totally enamored of Leslie Budewitz’s huckleberry chocolates, Shasta daisies, and Cowboy Roast coffee.”

  —Laura Childs, New York Times bestselling author of the Cackleberry Club Mysteries and the Tea Shop Mysteries

  “The first book in a delicious new series. Leslie Budewitz has created a believable, down-to-earth heroine in Erin Murphy, who uses her sleuthing skills and the Spreadsheet of Suspicion to catch a killer. The supporting cast of characters, from Erin’s mother, Fresca, to her cat, Sandburg, are charming. I’m looking forward to my next visit to Jewel Bay.”

  —Sofie Kelly, New York Times bestselling author of the Magical Cat Mysteries

  “An intriguing sleuth who loves gourmet food, family, and her hometown, plus recipes to die for, distinguish a delectable mystery.”

  —Carolyn Hart, New York Times bestselling author of Don’t Go Home

  “Seldom does a new author hit all the right notes in a first book, but Leslie Budewitz does. Convincing characters, a believable plot, the right dash of romance, and a deft use of words all come together to create a seamless and satisfying read.”

  —Sheila Connolly, New York Times bestselling author of Picked to Die and An Early Wake

  “Clever, charming, and completely yummy. Leslie Budewitz cooks up a delectable mystery! A tempting concoction of food, fun, and fatalities that will have you racing through the suspenseful pages . . . then heading for the kitchen to try out the irresistible recipes. More please!”

  —Hank Phillippi Ryan, Agatha, Anthony, and Macavity award–winning author

  “A great mystery. There were clever twists that keep me engaged. It is hard to delve deep into a whodunit and lay the proper foundations for stories going forward but [Budewitz] has pulled it off. I can’t wait to shop again at The Merc!”

  —Escape with Dollycas Into a Good Book

  “Budewitz writes with command and with a purpose. Her writing is straightforward and her characters are full of surprises. Budewitz serves up mouth-watering treats as well as murder in this first in a series book that readers will find simply delicious!”

  —Debbie’s Book Bag

  “[A] new culinary mystery that offers a unique taste of Montana. Author Budewitz has created an engaging character, a charming town, and a whole new perspective on the state.”

  —Mystery Scene

  Berkley Prime Crime titles by Leslie Budewitz

  Food Lovers’ Village Mysteries

  DEATH AL DENTE

  CRIME RIB

  BUTTER OFF DEAD

  Spice Shop Mysteries

  ASSAULT AND PEPPER

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  BUTTER OFF DEAD

  A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2015 by Leslie Ann Budewitz.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME design are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  For more information about Penguin Group, visit penguin.com.

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-16658-5

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / July 2015

  Cover illustration by Ben Perini.

  Cover design by Rita Frangie.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  For those who create the work that deepens our experience of this life: those who paint; work fabric, clay, and metal; plant gardens; write poems, plays, and stories; cook great food; make music; make movies; and so much more. Your pursuit of your passions brings this world—and all of us in it—alive.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, my thanks to my friends and neighbors for allowing me to wreak havoc on a community so much like the one we know and love. Thanks also for understanding that I have played with the map, changing names of streets and roads, and moving buildings and businesses to suit the story. Forgive me for torturing you by imagining a bakery that does not exist; I, too, wish it did.

  It takes a village to catch a killer, and to support a writer. Thanks in particular to Derek Vandeberg of Frame of Reference, who throws the best launch parties ever, with help from Chef Dan Solberg, who brings my recipes to the table; Marlys Anderson-Hisaw of Roma’s Kitchen Shop; and Annie Leberman and Kim Crowley of Imagine IF, the Flathead County Library system.

  Mark “Mister” Langlois, barkeeper extraordinaire, once again let me rechristen his place as “Red’s Bar.” Julie and Joe Cassetta, aka the Pinskys, lent me their home and their collection of Montana movie posters. So sorry about—well, no spoilers. Several readers bought character names at charity auctions: thanks to Dana Grant for supporting the Safe Harbor domestic violence shelter and education program, and Donna Lawson and Dean and Jamie Beckstead for their contributions to the Crown of the Continent Guitar Festival.

  A note on two characters who first appeared in Crime Rib and are based on much-loved real-life counterparts. Both the real and the fictional Christine Vandeberg are redheaded painters and former framers who work in bright acrylics, were raised in Vermont, and wear glasses of many colors. Everything else, I made up. Thank you, Christine! (See her paintings at Frame of Reference and online.) Iggy Ring bears the childhood nickname of my late mother-in-law, Louise Raff, as well as her physical appearance and style, her New England upbringing, and her love of art. Iggy’s personal story as told here is completely my invention. My mother-in-law, who played a part in founding the Charles M. Russell Museum in Great Falls, cherished a small collection of Western bronzes and paintings, and would have greatly enjoyed her fictional namesake’s treasure trove.

  All art in the book is authentic, except for the pieces attributed to Iggy, Erin’s purchase from Christine, and the item tied with ribbon. (No spoilers!) Readers who have toured the Russell studio and home may be surprised to hear that the home once contained several Asian pieces, including the gong and tapestry—perhaps gifts to Nancy Russell. The stone chop does exist, but did not come from the Russell collection.

  The problems Erin and her friends uncover here are very real. Next time you visit a small art museum or historical center, please tuck a few dollars into the donation box.

  I came across the essay “Pie” by Susan Bright, from her collection Tirades and Evidenc
e of Grace, more than twenty years ago when it was reprinted in Utne Reader. A yellowed copy still marks the Pies section of my recipe binder. The poem “Making Tortillas” is by Alicia Gaspar de Alba, and appears in Claiming the Spirit Within, edited by Marilyn Sewell.

  Thanks to Mary Jo Naive, board member of the Bigfork Center for the Performing Arts, and Dwayne Ague, Bigfork Summer Playhouse stage manager, for the backstage tour and the stories of what can go wrong when you entertain four hundred fifty friends two hundred nights a year. (And by the way, despite having once run a delightful children’s shop, Mary Jo is not the model for Sally Grimes!) Sharon Woods Hopkins shared her classic sports car expertise. Emily Budewitz, Paige Wheeler, and Bella McGuire contributed to Landon’s costumes. My friend and neighbor, wildlife biologist Cristina Eisenberg, has taught me much about wolves and their role in our ecology. If wolves intrigue you, dive into her books, The Wolf’s Tooth: Keystone Predators, Trophic Cascades, and Biodiversity and The Carnivore Way: Coexisting with and Conserving North America’s Predators. I also recommend Decade of the Wolf: Returning the Wild to Yellowstone, by Douglas W. Smith and Gary Ferguson.

  Of course, I made all the mistakes myself.

  As a kid, I always wanted a sister. As an adult, I’ve found more than I can count in Sisters in Crime, across the nation and in the Guppies chapter. The first third of this book was written in January 2014 at the Sisters in Crime retreat in Charlotte, North Carolina, during weather that made me feel write—er, right at home. Thank you, Beth Wasson, Cathy Pickens, and my sisters and brothers of ink, for a week of nurture, of being valued as a writer, of being in the midst of what my friend Lita Artis calls “intentional creativity.”

  Thanks to my agent Paige Wheeler of Creative Media Agency, Inc., my editors, Faith Black and Robin Barletta, and their colleagues at Berkley Prime Crime, and everyone else—including the readers, book clubs, libraries, and booksellers—who have helped make the Food Lovers’ Village Mysteries spring to life.

  And finally, my husband, Don Beans, aka Mr. Right, watched enough foodie movies to keep the Food Lovers’ Film Festival rolling for years. He is always willing to brainstorm over dinner, in the car, and on walks as if my characters were real. Thanks to you, babe, they are.

  Contents

  Praise for the Food Lovers’ Village Mysteries

  Berkley Prime Crime titles by Leslie Budewitz

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Epigraph

  The Cast

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The Food Lovers’ Film Festival Guide to Food and Drink

  “Once upon a time there was a quiet village in the countryside whose people believed in tranquility.”

  —CHOCOLAT, SCREENPLAY BY ROBERT NELSON JACOBS

  “It’s a good thing it takes all kinds—because there are all kinds.”

  —ALICE BUDEWITZ

  The Cast

  THE MURPHY CLAN:

  Erin Murphy, manager of Glacier Mercantile, aka the Merc

  Francesca “Fresca” Conti Murphy, Erin’s mother and the Merc’s manager emeritus

  Tracy McCann, salesclerk and budding chocolatier

  Chiara Murphy Phillips, Erin’s sister and co-owner of Snowberry Gallery

  Landon Phillips, age five, Chiara’s superhero son

  Nick Murphy, aka Wolf Man, Erin’s brother and a wolf biologist

  FESTIVAL CREW:

  Christine Vandeberg, painter and chief organizer of the Food Lovers’ Film Festival

  Larry Abrams, retired Hollywood lighting director, Film Club advisor

  Zayda George, president of the Jewel Bay High School Film Club

  Dylan Washington, future filmmaker

  VILLAGERS AND FRIENDS:

  Kyle Caldwell, head chef at Caldwell’s Eagle Lake Lodge and Guest Ranch, and car nut

  Sally Grimes, owner of Puddle Jumpers Children’s Clothing and Toys

  Danny Davis, Kyle’s high school buddy and fellow car nut

  Rick Bergstrom, aka Farm Boy, hunky grain salesman

  Adam Zimmerman, hunky Wilderness Camp director and Erin’s college classmate

  Jack Frost, aka the Junkman, Christine’s feisty neighbor

  Ned Redaway, longtime owner of Red’s Bar

  J.D. Beckstead, Ned’s grandson and a sign of change at Red’s

  Wendy Taylor Fontaine, baker extraordinaire

  Mimi and Tony George, Zayda’s parents and proprietors of the Jewel Inn

  THE LAW:

  Kim Caldwell, sheriff’s detective and Jewel Bay’s resident deputy

  Ike Hoover, undersheriff

  FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS:

  Mr. Sandburg, Erin’s sleek, sable Burmese cat

  Pepé, Fresca’s lively Scottish terrier

  Pumpkin, Christine’s full-figured orange tabby

  Bozo, Tracy’s Harlequin Great Dane, a rescue dog

  • One •

  “I need to talk to you.”

  One hand on the aluminum stepladder, I peered out the broom closet door, wondering who needed me and why she whispered about it so urgently.

  A blond teenager in gray leggings and purple running shoes, hair in a ponytail, stood at the open door to the Playhouse control room, her fleece-clad back to me.

  “Later,” came the reply. Older, male, firm.

  “Now,” she demanded, and I recognized Zayda George—high school senior, track star, president of the student Film Club.

  “Coming through,” I called, and wriggled my way out the door and into the wide passage leading to the lobby, both hands gripping the six-foot ladder. In the shadows, Zayda froze. I didn’t need bright lights to know she’d been pleading with Larry Abrams.

  Half a dozen kids from the Film Club who were running the projectors, lights, and sound for the weekend mingled in the Playhouse lobby. Christine Vandeberg pointed to a spot on the tile floor and I set up the ladder. She whipped a plastic bag off a five-foot-long hand-painted sign leaning against the wall.

  “Like it?” Christine clasped her hands, squeezing her fingers as she waited for my opinion.

  “Perfect.” For our first Food Lovers’ Film Festival, we’d rechristened the Playhouse in Jewel Bay, Montana, taking it back to its roots. You can’t go back again, not really. Times change. The places you love change. You change.

  But the right sign can transport you anywhere.

  “Perfect,” I repeated. “Like an old-time theater marquee.” Flamingo pink stripes emulating neon tubes ran across the top and bottom. On each end, faux diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires sparkled. And in the center, three-dimensional gold script read THE BIJOU. Literally, the jewel. Figuratively, the Jewel Box.

  “You’re too young to talk about old-time, Erin.” I hadn’t seen L
arry Abrams approach. Not quite movie-star handsome but close, with white hair and chiseled features just beginning to soften. “It’s Brooklyn, 1955, decades before you were born. I went to the movies every Saturday afternoon, sometimes twice.”

  The red hair coiled on top of Christine’s head in a tribute to Marge Simpson bobbed like a buoy in a windstorm. “I used Larry’s movie poster collection and a picture of our original theater as inspiration. Larry, hold the ladder while we hang this.”

  The longtime Hollywood lighting director forced a helpful expression. In his post-retirement volunteer work, he enjoyed being in charge.

  I could relate. But this Festival was Christine’s baby, and to tell the truth, being the gofer made for a welcome break.

  Larry steadied the ladder and Christine clambered up the rungs. I handed her the chain attached to the sign. She slipped the top link over a hook barely visible in the shiny tin ceiling and climbed back down. As I juggled the weight of the sign and Larry scooted the ladder over, I caught sight of Zayda a few feet away, one arm folded across her torso, absently biting the tip of her little finger.

  Moments later, I stepped back. “What do you think, Zayda? Right height?”

  “Um, it’s good. Sparkly.” Her voice lacked its usual zip, and she blinked rapidly as she glanced at Larry. His own eyes lit on her briefly before refocusing on the sign.

  “Seriously, old man. You kept the posters from when you were a kid?” Zayda’s boyfriend, Dylan, ran a hand through his dark blond hair. I’d spent enough time with the kids to realize that while she adored the movies, it was the technology that fired him up.

  “They came later,” Larry said. “Took me years to build that collection.”

  “What’s the deal about collecting?” Dana Grant, another Film Club member, tilted his head. “I don’t get it.”

  “Think of Barbies or Legos you’re too old for, but you still love,” a girl with hair in shades of red from strawberry blond to cranberry replied. Her parents ran the pizza joint. “Or tickets from a concert. You keep them to remind you how you felt.”