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The Root of All Evil

Page 15

by Shannon VanBergen


  Thanks for reading The Root of All Evil. I have a lot of fun writing the Glock Granny’s books and I hope you have fun reading them!

  If you enjoyed this book, it would be great if you left a review for me. That will really help me tell others about the book.

  * * *

  At the end of the book, I have included some poetry from Lesus Moore as well as a recipe for Greta’s Famous Sugar Cookies (they’re delicious).

  I have also included previews from a couple books that I think you will like. First is a preview of Up in Smoke, the first book in the Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery series. Second is a preview of A Pie to Die For by Stacey Alabaster - it’s part of the popular Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery series. I really hope you like the samples. If you do, both books are available on most retailers.

  * * *

  If you would like to know about future cozy mysteries by me and the other authors at Fairfield Publishing, make sure to sign up for our Cozy Mystery Newsletter. We will send you our FREE Cozy Mystery Starter Library just for signing up. All the details are on the next page.

  FAIRFIELD COZY MYSTERY NEWSLETTER

  Make sure you sign up for the Fairfield Cozy Mystery Newsletter so you can keep up with our latest releases. When you sign up, we will send you our FREE Cozy Mystery Starter Library!

  FairfieldPublishing.com/cozy-newsletter/

  * * *

  After you sign up to get your Free Starter Library, turn the page and check out the poems, recipe, and previews.

  More from Les (poetry)

  Thread

  You cling to me like no other,

  Across my chest, I see you struggle.

  Do not let go, you'll fly away,

  Hold me forever, I’m yours to snuggle.

  * * *

  But, alas, you bid me ado,

  Your time with me is dead.

  I must be such a bore to you,

  Fly away little thread.

  * * *

  Unsightly Crack

  A crack is a crack

  No matter the size.

  Most are unsightly

  A pain to the eyes.

  * * *

  Some are large

  Some never seen.

  Some should not be noticed

  So pull up your jeans.

  * * *

  My Friend

  My little friend

  In a bowl you swim

  Swish, swish goes his fin

  Round and round, swim, swim, swim

  * * *

  You have no name

  There is no rush

  Fish don't live long

  Soon you’ll be flushed

  * * *

  Grandma Greta’s Famous Sugar Cookie Recipe

  (Frosting recipe below)

  Ingredients

  1 ½ cups (3 sticks) butter softened to room temperature

  1 ½ cups granulated sugar

  ½ cup powdered sugar

  4 large eggs

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  ½ teaspoon almond extract (optional – Grandma Greta doesn’t use it, but you can)

  ½ teaspoon lemon zest (you can use as much as 1 tablespoon if you like lemony cookies)

  5 cups all-purpose flour

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  1 teaspoon salt

  * * *

  Directions

  Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

  In a large bowl, cream together both sugars and the butter until it’s light and fluffy (usually takes about 3-4 minutes).

  Add the eggs one at a time, mixing each one well before you add another.

  Add in vanilla, almond extract and lemon zest. Mix.

  Add baking powder, salt and just two cups of the flour. Once it’s mixed well, add the other 3 cups of flour and mix just until all the flour is incorporated and the dough is soft and smooth.

  * * *

  The dough can be wrapped in plastic wrap and in kept in the fridge for up to a week or you can roll it out right away. If you do decide to roll it out right away, it will be a bit too sticky. Add ¼ - ½ cup more flour to remedy this.

  * * *

  Grandma Greta likes to do it this way:

  Divide the dough into two or four equal parts. Sprinkle a little bit of flour (or powdered sugar) on some parchment paper. Your parchment paper should be large enough to contain the dough once it’s rolled out. Grab one of the sections of dough and put it in the middle of the paper. Sprinkle on a little more flour or powdered sugar (it doesn’t take much) and put another piece of parchment paper on top. Flatten with your hand and then roll into a ¼ inch thickness (Grandma likes her cookies thick). Once you have it rolled out to your desired thickness, gently peel away the paper so it’s not sticking to it and then put the paper back on. Flip it over and do the same to the other side. Now you have a nice section of rolled out dough sandwiched between two pieces of parchment paper. Set aside and do the same to the left-over sections. Once finished, stack and put in the fridge! No mess rolling them out, and they’ll be ready for the grandkids. Grandma Greta likes to make sure each kid has their own cookie section to work with.

  When ready to use, take out of the fridge and cut out the cookies right on the paper. Roll out left over cookie dough using the same method and keep cutting until you run out of dough.

  * * *

  To cook:

  Put cookies on either a greased cookie sheet or cookie sheet lined with parchment paper (Grandma Greta uses parchment paper).

  Bake for 7-8 minutes. Don’t over bake! Don’t even let these tasty cookies get a little brown – they should be soft with not even a hint of brown around the edges. Trust Grandma on this. You’ll thank her later. She only bakes hers for 7 minutes.

  Cool completely on a wire rack before frosting.

  * * *

  Frosting Recipe

  * * *

  Ingredients

  1 cup butter, softened to room temperature

  1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

  4 cups powdered sugar

  4-6 tablespoons of heavy cream (Grandma Greta uses 6 because she likes it nice and creamy)

  * * *

  Directions

  * * *

  Beat the softened butter and the vanilla extract until the butter is nice and creamy. This take about 3 minutes. Since Grandma’s arms get tired she uses her big mixer with the paddle attachment but you can use a handheld mixer if you want. At the end of 3 minutes the butter should be creamy and lighter in color.

  Gradually add the powdered sugar, scraping the bowl often.

  Increase the mixer speed to medium-high and add in the heavy cream a little at a time. If you accidentally put in too much milk and it’s a little too thin, just add more powdered sugar.

  Add food coloring if you like. Grandma Greta uses Wilton’s gel food coloring.

  * * *

  Tips for cookies and frosting

  * * *

  As tempting as it is, don’t soften your butter by putting it in the microwave. If you do and you end up with some melty spots, your frosting won’t be as creamy and your cookies will end up being greasy (nobody wants that).

  Preview: Up in Smoke

  I could feel my hair puffing up like cotton candy in the humidity as I stepped outside the Miami airport. I pushed a sticky strand from my face, and I wished for a minute that it were a cheerful pink instead of dirty blond, just to complete the illusion.

  “Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport.” I smiled at the sprightly old lady I was struggling to keep up with. “But why did you say my grandmother couldn’t pick me up?”

  “I didn’t say.” She turned and gave me a toothy grin—clearly none of them original—and winked. “I parked over here.”

  When we got to her car, she opened the trunk and threw in the sign she had been holding when she met me in baggage claim. The letters were done in gold glitter glue and she had drawn flowers with markers all around the edges. My name “Nikki Rae Parker” flashed when the
sun reflected off of them, temporarily blinding me.

  “I can tell you put a lot of work into that sign.” I carefully put my luggage to the side of it, making sure not to touch her sign—partially because I didn’t want to crush it and partially because it didn’t look like the glue had dried yet.

  “Well, your grandmother didn’t give me much time to make it. I only had about ten minutes.” She glanced at the sign proudly before closing the trunk. She looked me in the eyes. “Let’s get on the road. We can chit chat in the car.”

  With that, she climbed in and clicked on her seat belt. As I got in, she was applying a thick coat of bright red lipstick while looking in the rearview mirror. “Gotta look sharp in case we get pulled over.” She winked again, her heavily wrinkled eyelid looking like it thought about staying closed before it sprung back up again.

  I thought about her words for a moment. She must get pulled over a lot, I thought. Poor old lady. I could picture her going ten miles an hour while the rest of Miami flew by her.

  “Better buckle up.” She pinched her lips together before blotting them slightly on a tissue. She smiled at me and for a moment, I was jealous of her pouty lips, every line filled in by layers and layers of red.

  I did as I was told and buckled my seat belt before I sunk down into her caramel leather seats. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, from the trip. I closed my eyes and tried to forget my troubles, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly to give all my worry and fear ample time to escape my body. For the first time since I had made the decision to come here, I felt at peace. Unfortunately, it was short-lived.

  The sound of squealing tires filled the air and my eyes flung open to see this old lady zigzagging through the parking garage. She took the turns without hitting the brakes, hugging each curve like a racecar driver. When we exited the garage and turned onto the street, she broke out in laughter. “That’s my favorite part!”

  I tugged my seat belt to make sure it was on tight. This was not going to be the relaxing drive I had thought it would be.

  We hit the highway and I felt like I was in an arcade game. She wove in and out of traffic at a speed I was sure matched her old age.

  “Ya know, the older I get the worse other people drive.” She took one hand off the wheel and started to rummage through her purse, which sat between us.

  “Um, can I help you with something?” My nerves were starting to get the best of me as her eyes were focused more on her purse than the road.

  “Oh no, I’ve got it. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere.” She dug a little more, pulling out a package of AA batteries and then a ham sandwich.

  Brake lights lit up in front of us and I screamed, bracing myself for impact. The old woman glanced up and pulled the car to the left in a quick jerk before returning to her purse. Horns blared from behind us.

  “There it is!” She pulled out a package of wintergreen Life Savers. “Do you want one?”

  “No, thank you.” I could barely get the words out.

  “I learned a long time ago that it was easier if I just drove and did my thing instead of worrying about what all the other drivers were doing. It’s easier for them to get out of my way instead of me getting out of theirs. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” She popped a mint in her mouth and smiled. “I love wintergreen. I don’t know why peppermint is more popular. Peppermint is so stuffy; wintergreen is fun.”

  She seemed to get in a groove with her driving and soon my grip was loosening on the sides of the seat, the blood slowly returning to my knuckles. Suddenly I realized I hadn’t asked her name.

  “I was so confused when you picked me up from the airport instead of my Grandma Dean that I never asked your name.”

  She didn’t respond, just kept her eyes on the road with a steely look on her face. I was happy to see her finally being serious about driving, so I turned to look out the window. “It’s beautiful here,” I said after a few minutes of silence. I turned to look at her again and noticed that she was still focused straight ahead. I stared at her for a moment and realized she never blinked. Panic rose through my chest.

  “Ma’am!” I shouted as I leaned forward to take the wheel. “Are you okay?”

  She suddenly sprung to action, screaming and jerking the wheel to the left. Her screaming caused me to scream and I grabbed the wheel and pulled it to the right, trying to get us back in our lane. We continued to scream until the car stopped teetering and settled down to a nice hum on the road.

  “Are you trying to kill us?” The woman’s voice was hoarse and she seemed out of breath.

  “I tried to talk to you and you didn’t answer!” I practically shouted. “I thought you had a heart attack or something!”

  “You almost gave me one!” She flashed me a dirty look. “And you made me swallow my mint. You’re lucky I didn’t choke to death!”

  “I’m sorry.” As I said the words, I noticed my heart was beating in my ears. “I really thought something had happened to you.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Well, to be honest with you, I did doze off for a moment.” She looked at me, pride spreading across her face. “I sleep with my eyes open. Do you know anyone who can do that?”

  Before I could answer, she was telling me about her friend Delores who “claimed” she could sleep with her eyes open but, as it turned out, just slept with one eye half-open because she had a stroke and it wouldn’t close all the way.

  I sat there in silence before saying a quick prayer. My hands resumed their spot around the seat cushion and I could feel the blood draining from my knuckles yet again.

  “So what was it you tried to talk to me about before you nearly killed us?”

  I swallowed hard, trying to push away the irritation that fought to come out.

  “I asked you what your name was.” I stared at her and decided right then that I wouldn’t take my eyes off of her for the rest of the trip. I would make sure she stayed awake, even if it meant talking to her the entire time.

  “Oh yes! My name is Hattie Sue Miller,” she said with a bit of arrogance. She glanced at me. “My father used to own most of this land.” She motioned to either side of us. “Until he sold it and made a fortune.” She gave me a look and dropped her voice to a whisper as she raised one eyebrow. “Of course we don’t talk about money. That would be inappropriate.” She said that last part like I had just asked her when she had last had sex. I felt ashamed until I realized I had never asked her about her money; I had simply asked her name. This woman was a nut. Didn’t Grandma Dean have any other friends she could’ve sent to get me?

  For the next hour or so, I asked her all kinds of questions to keep her awake—none of them about money or anything I thought might lead to money. If what she told me was true, she had a very interesting upbringing. She claimed to be related to Julia Tuttle, the woman who founded Miami. Her stories of how she got a railroad company to agree to build tracks there were fascinating. It wasn’t until she told me she was also related to Michael Jackson that I started to question how true her stories were.

  “We’re almost there! Geraldine will be so happy to see you. You’re all she’s talked about the last two weeks.” She pulled into a street lined with palm trees. “You’re going to love it here.” She smiled as she drove. “I’ve lived here a long time. It’s far enough away from the city that you don’t have all that hullaballoo, but big enough that you can eat at a different restaurant every day for a month.”

  When we entered the downtown area, heavy gray smoke hung in the air, and the road was blocked by a fire truck and two police cars.

  “Oh no! I think there might have been a fire!” I leaned forward in my seat, trying to get a better look.

  “Of course there was a fire!” Hattie huffed like I was an idiot. “That’s why Geraldine sent me to get you!”

  “What?! Is she okay?” I scanned the crowd and saw her immediately. She was easy to spot, even at our distance.

  “Oh yes. She’s fine. H
er shop went up in flames as she was headed out the door. She got the call from a neighboring store owner and called me right away to go get you. Honestly, I barely had time to make you a sign.” She acted like Grandma Dean had really put her in a bad position, leaving her only minutes to get my name on a piece of poster board.

  Hattie pulled over and I jumped out; I’d come back for my luggage later. As I made my way toward the crowd, I was amazed at how little my Grandma Dean—or Grandma Dean-Dean, as I had called her since I was a little girl—had changed. Her bleach blonde hair was nearly white and cut in a cute bob that was level with her chin. She wore skintight light blue denim capris, which hugged her tiny frame. Her bright white t-shirt was the background for a long colorful necklace that appeared to be a string of beads. Thanks to a pair of bright red heels, she stood eye to eye with the fireman she was talking to.

  I ran up to her and called out to her. “Grandma! Are you okay?” She flashed me a look of disgust before she smiled weakly at the fireman and said something I couldn’t make out.

  She turned her back to him and grabbed me by the arm. “I told you to never call me that!” She softened her tone then looked me over. “You look exhausted! Was it the flight or riding with that crazy Hattie?” She didn’t give me time to answer. “Joe, this is my daughter’s daughter, Nikki.”

  Joe smiled. I wasn’t sure if it was his perfectly white teeth that got my attention, his uniform or his sparkling blue eyes, but I was immediately speechless. I tried to say hello, but the words stuck in my throat.

 

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