How to Bake a Murder Read online

  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

  Cream Puff Recipe

  About the Author

  COPYRIGHT

  First published in Australia by South Coast Publishing, May 2016.

  Copyright K.J. Emrick (2012-2016)

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

  - From a Declaration of Principles jointly adopted by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  No responsibility or liability is assumed by the Publisher for any injury, damage or financial loss sustained to persons or property from the use of this information, personal or otherwise, either directly or indirectly. While every effort has been made to ensure reliability and accuracy of the information within, all liability, negligence or otherwise, from any use, misuse or abuse of the operation of any methods, strategies, instructions or ideas contained in the material herein, is the sole responsibility of the reader. Any copyrights not held by publisher are owned by their respective authors.

  All information is generalized, presented for informational purposes only and presented "as is" without warranty or guarantee of any kind.

  All trademarks and brands referred to in this book are for illustrative purposes only, are the property of their respective owners and not affiliated with this publication in any way. Any trademarks are being used without permission, and the publication of the trademark is not authorized by, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  Chapter One

  “I don’t see why I have to go live with the old bat,” Clarissa Johnson said.

  Hearing those words through the front door, Karen “Cookie” Williams paused with her hand raised to knock. She was here to pick up her granddaughter. The same granddaughter that had just declared her an old bat. Cookie knew who the girl was talking about. Didn’t need subtitles to figure that out.

  Well. Old she might be, by a teenager’s standards, but the rest of it she took issue with.

  Her daughter, Madison, was sending Clarissa to spend the summer with her. This didn’t bode well at all for their time together. Such a lot of anger built up in that little girl. On the other hand, Cookie guessed she could understand. What interest would a headstrong teenage girl have in spending the summer with her Gram, working in a bakery?

  Madison lived in a modest home on the outskirts of the city. Her lawn, like everyone else’s on the street, was square and trimmed. All the houses were the same raised ranch design. All of them were shades of blue, too. Cookie had often wondered what would happen if the numbers fell off everyone’s mailboxes all at the same time. How would anyone know which house belonged to them? She much preferred the country and her apartment above the bakery.

  Cookie took a deep breath and let it out again to calm herself. She had managed to get her daughter to adulthood on her own. Surely, she could do the same for her granddaughter. This was the plan she and her daughter had hatched. A summer away from electronics and boys who were too full of themselves to get out of their own way. A summer away from her new stepfather, too. It was a good idea. It would be good for Clarissa.

  At least, Cookie hoped so.

  When she’d raised Madison after her husband walked out, she’d had no choice. This time was different. She didn’t have to be here. But her daughter had asked, and she’d said yes, and that was the way things were. Things here in her daughter’s home weren’t the best right now. Giving everyone some space from each other only made sense. Madison had hoped her new marriage would bring some stability to their lives. Instead, Clarissa had fought tooth and nail against accepting her new stepdad.

  Joseph was Madison’s second husband. For a variety of reasons—some of which Cookie could understand and some she couldn’t begin to fathom—there was a lot of tension between Clarissa and him. So much so that it was bleeding into the new marriage and causing issues. Everyone could use some breathing room.

  Enter Grandma Cookie.

  She’d been looking forward to getting to know her granddaughter better. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year now and at this age, a girl did a lot of growing up. She had imagined a fun-filled summer for the two of them. From what she could hear, Clarissa didn’t share that dream.

  “You will not talk about your grandmother that way.” It did Cookie’s heart good to hear her daughter defending her. “Sure, she’s a bit odd, but she raised me on her own and some of my best memories will always be growing up in our house.”

  Odd? Cookie frowned. So much for being defended. Maybe she wasn’t like other grandmothers, so much, but still…

  Cream, her little Chihuahua, sat at her feet, looking up at her, ears cocked. His fur was the color of Coffee Mate creamer, which was where he’d gotten his name. In a lot of ways, he was her best friend. She could read his thoughts in that little doggie expression of his. Even he had his doubts about this. Thankfully he stayed quiet and didn’t give them away here on the porch.

  Curiosity got the better of her and she let them talk, bracing herself in case she heard something else she may not like.

  The sun was falling in the sky, and the air had a nip in it. Summer might be here on the calendar but nature didn’t seem to care. She pulled her spring jacket a little tighter, realizing how long she had been standing there at the door, eavesdropping.

  “If you like her so much, you go live with her,” she heard Clarissa say to Madison. “Oh wait. That’s right. You want to get rid of me so you and the new man in your life can spend more time together.”

  Madison’s voice took on the tone of someone tired of having the same argument again and again. “We’re not trying to get rid of you, Clarissa.”

  “Yes, you are. So you and Daddy can spend more time alone. I know what that means. I am sixteen.”

  Cookie sighed at the hot venom in Clarissa’s voice and took another deep breath to calm herself. Cookie didn’t like being in the city, even here in the suburbs, and she’d been hoping to spend some time here in her daughter’s home to relax before heading back with Clarissa. Somehow she doubted they would all be sitting down to tea before heading back to the small town of Widow’s Rest.

  Well. That just meant she could get to the work of the bakery sooner. What she had put off till tomorrow could now be done today. And now she’d have Clarissa to help with some of the other chores that needed to be done around the place.

  “I don’t want to go!” Clarissa insisted to her mother.

  Or maybe, Cookie thought, she wouldn’t have much help from her granddaughter after all.

  When there was a lull in the conversation, she took a deep breath, straightened her spine and her glasses and knocked. Best get this started.

  The door swung open. Madison stood there, trying for a smile. Her daughter’s eyes were circled by dark shadows. Her heart-shaped face was so like Cookie’s, back when she’d been that young. Her curly hair had been that red o
nce upon a time, too, instead of the color of bright snow it was now. Strange, to see so much of herself in her daughter. It pained her to see the lines of worry starting to crease Madison’s forehead already. At sixty-one, Cookie expected a few lines. Alright, more than a few, she admitted to herself. But these should be happier years for Madison.

  Maybe she could help make that happen.

  “Hi, Mom.” Madison greeted her in a falsely cheerful voice, looking back over her shoulder to where Clarissa stood with her arms crossed.

  Cookie squeezed her daughter’s arm, trying to communicate her solidarity. Cream hid behind her leg. That wasn’t like the little Chihuahua. Usually he had a comment to add to every situation.

  Madison didn’t seem to notice the little dog’s apprehension. If she knew—or suspected—that they’d been standing there listening, she didn’t show it. Instead she picked the dog up and scratched at his neck. “Hello Cream.”

  “Arf,” said Cream.

  “We have to ride with that thing?” Clarissa whined. Cookie inhaled sharply. Cream was a good dog. He didn’t deserve to be talked about that way.

  Standing next to Clarissa was a tall pink suitcase on wheels. The prancing horse pictured on the front of it spoke of freedom and wild aspirations. It was a very different impression than Clarissa gave herself. For just a moment, Cookie had a flashback to one of a handful of fights she’d had with Madison at that age. The tense teenage defiance, the rigid set of her jaw in that oh-so-pretty face. Clarissa’s straight and long red hair was closer to brown, more of an auburn, and the freckles that Cookie remembered on her little granddaughter at age five were all gone now. Yup, Clarissa was all grown up, with a lot of growing yet to do.

  Cookie schooled her expression into a gentle smile, determined to face the situation the way she did when a batch of ginger snaps threatened to turn into pools of mushy ginger-flavored sludge. When things went wrong in a kitchen, you fixed them and moved on, or there weren’t going to be any cookies. She’d always found that same philosophy worked for her out of the bakery, too.

  “Cream has been looking forward to your visit all week,” she told Clarissa.

  “Did he tell you that?” Clarissa snarked.

  “Well,” Cookie observed, turning her smile on Madison. “Teenagers haven’t changed much since you were one, have they?”

  “Oh, Mom,” Madison said with an exaggerated eye roll. Still, Cookie saw some of the tension ease out of her daughter’s shoulders. “Look, Clarissa was just saying how much she really wanted to come see your bakery. Isn’t that nice?”

  Clarissa snorted at that, and Cookie just barely kept herself from doing the same thing. She applauded her daughter’s effort to keep everyone civil and happy, but no one would have been fooled by that lie. Certainly not Cookie, even if she hadn’t been listening in at the door.

  Cookie kept those thoughts to herself. “Then we should be going. You ready, Clarissa? It’s getting late.”

  “Ready to waste the best part of my summer? Sure. Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Sidling up closer to Cookie’s feet, Cream looked up with a shake of his head. Are you sure, he seemed to be asking, we can’t just leave her here?

  “Mom,” Madison asked, “do you want stay for some coffee? Joseph should be home soon…”

  Grabbing the handle of her suitcase, Clarissa scoffed.

  Cookie smiled at her daughter. She could tell the offer to stay was just Madison being polite. She was looking forward to having some peace restored to her house, and that wouldn’t start until Cookie got Clarissa headed out for Widow’s Rest. “No, honey,” she promised. “Next time. We should really get back.”

  Clarissa brushed past her grandmother. Cookie watched her stalking out to her vintage robin’s-egg blue Volkswagen Beetle. Yes. Some time apart would be good for everyone in this house, even if Clarissa wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. What would this summer bring them, she wondered?

  Cream whuffed and scratched at his cheek.

  Madison gave her mother a small smile. There was a world of emotion in that expression. “I’m sure she’ll get better.”

  Madison set cream down and Cookie embraced her daughter, like they used to do before Madison had gotten all grown up and too old for such things. “We’ll work it out.”

  Cream arfed, racing across the yard, dancing on the spot until Cookie also reached the car and opened the driver’s door for him, gladly jumping up and into the trusty Beetle. He wriggled around to slip into the back seat and put his paws up on the window, waiting for Cookie to join him inside the car. Then he tossed his head over to look at Clarissa, and sneezed.

  “I’m coming, Cream,” Cookie called to him.

  Clarissa rolled her eyes and scrunched down in the front passenger seat. Cookie sighed. How did someone so young carry around so much anger?

  ***

  Once on the road, Cookie realized she should have started out earlier this morning. Now, the daylight was waning and her granddaughter’s mood seemed to be getting darker with every mile, too. She had already flipped through the stations on the radio before turning it off again with a huff. Now she was staring at her cell phone, tapping at it over and over again with her thumbs. Texting.

  With an effort, she groped for topics to catch Clarissa’s attention and get her to start opening up, just a little.

  “So what activities will you do in school this year? Being a junior must be very exciting.”

  She glanced over to see Clarissa had stuck her ear buds in, listening to something with a thumping beat and buzzing, quick-paced lyrics. Cookie could hear the music loud and distorted. She shook her head, clucking her tongue. The girl would be deaf by the time she was twenty. Clarissa was completely oblivious, hunched over her phone, scrolling through screens that would’ve been gibberish to Cookie.

  She tapped Clarissa on the arm.

  When the girl rolled her eyes and pulled one of the earbuds out, she said, “Turn that down. You’ll kill your hearing.”

  Clarissa frowned at her, then put the earbud back in. The music stayed at the same level. Cookie knew she couldn’t start off by letting Clarissa disobey her. Not when she was doing something that could hurt her. But how to make a teenager obey?

  She remembered what had always worked with Clarissa’s mother. Embarrassment.

  A little smile curved her lips. “If you don’t turn down the music, I’m going to start honking and waving at every car we pass. Think we’ll see anyone you know?”

  Clarissa’s blue eyes grew wide. “You wouldn’t.”

  At a stoplight, Cookie gave her granddaughter her most serious look. “Try me.”

  Cream chose that moment to stand up against the back of the driver’s headrest and bark, backing up Cookie’s desire to be crazy and inappropriate. Clarissa stared, and they had themselves a good old fashioned standoff.

  Let the contest of wills begin, Cookie thought to herself.

  A car approached from the opposite direction. The light turned green for them, too, but there was no one behind her so she stayed where she was, put a big goofy grin on her face, and started waving like mad.

  “Yoohoo! Hello.” She waved as if the person in the car, staring and gaping as they drove by, was an old friend. Cream barked in support.

  “Okay stop, stop,” Clarissa pleaded.

  “You’ll turn down the music?”

  “Yes. All right? Look, I already did it. Just stop waving.”

  Clarissa sat back with a huff. Cream barked and then settled down in a satisfied ball in the backseat. Nice, Cookie thought. She’d been through this before with Madison. She knew most of the rules. Hopefully Clarissa would come to realize that fighting wouldn’t get her anywhere, and soon, before the whole summer became one battle after another.

  “That’s so much better,” Cookie said with a smile. “Don’t you think? So I’ll ask again and you can answer now that you can hear me. What activities will you do in school this year?”

  Clarissa
shrugged, looking out the window. “I don’t know. School’s lame, anyway.”

  Hmm. “How are your grades?”

  “Okay, I guess. I’m not failing or anything.”

  Cream barked. He stuck his head between the seats.

  “What’s he barking at?” Clarissa said. She wrinkled her nose. Obviously not a dog person.

  “I guess he doesn’t like the way you aren’t talking to me,” Cookie suggested.

  Clarissa glared at the dog then went back to looking out the window. “You give him way too much credit. He’s just a dog.”

  Cream barked again, his body wriggling as he danced from paw to paw. He wasn’t happy with something. Cookie didn’t need him to be a problem, not when it was going to be hard enough as it was to reach this girl.

  “He might be just a dog, sure,” Cookie admitted. “But he’s smarter than a lot of people I know. Watch this. Sit back down, Cream.”

  He let out a small growl but he curled right up on the back seat. Silence fell in the Volkswagen again as Clarissa turned back to her phone.

  “Who are you texting?”

  “No one,” was the terse reply.

  “That’s a lot of texting for no one,” Cookie observed.

  “Maybe it’s just none of your business.”

  Cookie pulled the car over onto the shoulder. Clarissa stared at her, surprise in her eyes. “I do not like that tone, young lady. Your mother may put up with it, but I won’t. Now apologize.”

  Clarissa crossed her arms and set her jaw. “I didn’t do anything. That’s how I speak to everyone.”

  “Well, you can’t speak to me that way. We are going to spend a very long and boring summer in this car, in this spot, until you apologize to me.”

  Eye roll, then a frown. Cookie had another flashback to Madison’s younger years. She’d been this disrespectful once. Just once. The punishment Cookie had come up with had been quite enough to stop that in its tracks. Maybe somebody should have done the same thing for Clarissa before now.

  “Okay. All right, I’m sorry. Jeez. Chillax, Grandma.”