Have a Deadly New Year. Lynn Cahoon
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![Have a Deadly New Year - Lynn Cahoon Have a Deadly New Year - Lynn Cahoon A Farm-to-Fork Mystery](/cover_pre720872.jpg)
Chef Angie Turner of The County Seat—Idaho’s finest farm-to-table restaurant—is preparing a private dinner in the mountains during ski season, but the trip’s about to go downhill . . .
It’s a rockin’ New Year for Angie and her crew as they cater a bash for a famous band—and as a bonus, they’ll get to stay at the singer’s Sun Valley house for a whole week once the party’s over. But there are hints of discord, and the event hits a sour note when one of the musicians is found with a drumstick in his chest.
Is this a case of creative differences turned lethal or is there another motive at play? Angie’s jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire as she and her fellow foodies try to solve the case before the killer comes out for an encore . . .
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Also by Lynn Cahoon
The Farm-to-Fork Mysteries
Who Moved My Goat Cheese?
Killer Green Tomatoes
One Potato, Two Potato, Dead
The Cat Latimer Mysteries
A Story to Kill
Fatality by Firelight
Of Murder and Men
Slay in Character
Sconed to Death
The Tourist Trap Mysteries
Guidebook to Murder
Mission to Murder
If the Shoe Kills
Dressed to Kill
Killer Run
Murder on Wheels
Tea Cups and Carnage
Hospitality and Homicide
Killer Party
Memories and Murder
Novellas
Rockets’ Dead Glare
A Deadly Brew
Santa Puppy
Corned Beef and Casualties
Mother’s Day Mayhem
A Very Mummy Holiday
Have A Deadly New Year
A Farm-to-Fork Novella
Lynn Cahoon
LYRICAL UNDERGROUND
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
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Copyright © 2019 by Lynn Cahoon
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Lyrical Underground and Lyrical Underground logo Reg. US Pat. & TM Off.
First Electronic Edition: December 2019
eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-1026-1
eISBN-10: 1-5161-1026-9
Dedication
To my ‘band’ friends. I’m so glad you made high school bearable.
Acknowledgments
Writing about a gentler, kinder Idaho town than I grew up in has got me nostalgic for the good things that happened around my nonfictional town River Vista is modeled after. When I was in high school, we had a state conference for Future Homemakers of America at the Sun Valley Inn. I don’t know who pulled the strings for that one, but the one thing I remember about that conference is going out to the hot tub at night and watching the snow fall all around us. The moment in time was magical, so when my publisher asked for a NYE novella in Angie Turner’s Farm-to-Fork world, I knew I needed to recreate that moment in time for my characters too.
As always, big thanks to the Kensington team. Esi, Alex, Larissa, and all the others behind the scenes that make my books as pretty as they can be. Praise to them and their knowledge. Jill Marsal, thanks for getting me through my own rough patch. Sometimes all you can say is thanks. It doesn’t feel like enough.
Chapter 1
Sunlight streamed into the oversized kitchen and sparkled on the marble floor. Angie Turner, owner of the County Seat, watched as Hope Anderson, County Seat’s dishwasher—and soon-to-be newest chef, starting next summer—took in the over-the-top room. Angie had to admit, it felt a little intimidating for her as well. Her home kitchen was the size of this place’s pantry. And she could have fit two of the County Seat kitchen in the opulent space. The rich were different. And once the party was over tonight, this would be their kitchen for a week.
Felicia Williams, Angie’s partner, had set up this catering job with one of her old boarding school buddies. Not only were they getting paid, they got use of the cabin for a week after the event. Angie had all kinds of projects planned for her kitchen staff. She just wished all of her cooks had been able to attend. Nancy Gowan had her kids this week and had bowed out of the job. Which Angie understood. Nancy worked so much it wasn’t easy for her to find quality time to spend with her kids. But it would have been nice.
“Who did you say owned this place? The Kardashians?” Hope bounced over to Felicia, who was sitting at the table planning out the setup of dinner service. “I can’t believe you went to school with this guy. What are you? Wealthy?”
Felicia didn’t look up from the notebook where she was writing. “My parents are. I’m not. And Cliff wasn’t either until his band took off. Look, you can’t go all starstruck when you meet people tonight. They’re just normal everyday people who have