He went on, talking fast now. "I figured I'd let you order the appliances yourself. If you didn't want the place, or the old building was still usable, I could fix that one up over time, and we could turn a profit on it. But I knew this building was perfect because the layout was so similar to your old building. There's even an apartment upstairs if Gianna wants to move back in. If not, we can rent it out."
Stunned, I continued to stare at him. My mouth went dry, and I found myself incapable of speech, which didn't happen often.
Mike's eyes were shining. "I had to tell a lot of white lies, and I'm sorry for that. I probably should have asked you first but really wanted it to be a surprise. To tell the truth, I was hoping you wouldn't ask for any more money out of the account because I used most of it for the repairs and to pay the first month's rent. But it looks like your insurance company will pay out on the claim now, so everything should work out. We can rent this with an option to buy, just like your old place."
I walked over to the tables. I fingered the crocheted tablecloths, two white and one beige. I knew whose handiwork these belonged to. "My grandmother knew about this and didn't tell me?"
"I had to let someone in on the secret," Mike explained. "Everything's not finished yet, but I talked to your grandmother earlier this morning before you woke up. She said you were aware I was lying and that it might be a good idea to tell you what was going on before you got even more upset."
"I can't believe it." I was in total awe as I glanced down at the blue and white checkered vinyl flooring. "It looks the same as the one in my old shop."
"Pretty close. It wasn't easy to find," Mike admitted. "But I wanted the place to be perfect. This is my wedding gift to you, baby. Do you like it?"
His words took my breath way. "It's amazing. No, you're amazing." The place was incredible and just as I would have designed it myself. I didn't think it possible, but my original shop was back, sans the same location. Almost every detail was the same as my former bakery, and I immediately felt at home. Thanks to this wonderful man—my man.
Mike placed his hands on my waist and gazed tenderly into my eyes. The tears were already sliding down my cheeks as I stared back at him. "Thank you. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."
A smile warmed those incredible blue eyes as he wiped the tears away from my lashes with his thumb. "Maybe no one's ever loved you this much before."
"I love you too," I managed to say before I dissolved completely into sobs. He held me in his arms and let me cry. "I always have. Even when I was married to Colin, I could never get you out of my head or heart. I wouldn't let myself admit it to anyone then, but you are the only one I've ever truly loved."
He was silent as he lifted my face between his strong, calloused hands. I saw such a range of emotions in those deep-set eyes. Passion, admiration, and devotion—all I would ever need, and then some. Without another word, he covered my mouth with his, and I lost myself in his presence, the kiss, and everything our love stood for.
When we broke apart, Mike's voice was gruff as he tenderly stroked my hair. "This probably sounds like a bad pun, but I'd walk through fire for you, Sal. You're what gives my life meaning."
I smiled at him through my tears. "I can't believe you did that."
His face was puzzled. "What'd I do now?"
I grinned and pressed my lips against his. "You stole my line."
RECIPES
OATMEAL CRÈME PIE COOKIES
Prep time: About 30 minutes
Cookie ingredients:
1 cup butter-flavored Crisco or margarine
¾ cup brown sugar
½ cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon molasses
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
2 eggs
1½ cups flour
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1½ cup quick oats
Preheat oven to 350° Fahrenheit. In a large bowl, beat margarine or Crisco, brown sugar, granulated sugar, molasses, and vanilla. Mix well, and then add eggs, one at a time, beating until light and fluffy. In a separate bowl, mix together flour, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon then add to creamed mixture. Add in the oats, and mix until blended. Drop by tablespoonful onto parchment-lined cookie sheet or non-greased stoneware. Make sure the cookies are at least 2 inches apart for them to spread out—cookies will flatten. Bake 8–10 minutes or until just starting to brown around the edges. Do not overcook. Transfer to cooling rack.
For the filling:
2 teaspoons very hot water
¼ teaspoon salt
7-ounce jar marshmallow fluff
¾ cup butter-flavored Crisco
⅔ cup powdered sugar
1½ teaspoons vanilla
Combine hot water with salt, and then mix until the salt is dissolved. In a large bowl, beat marshmallow fluff with Crisco, powdered sugar, and vanilla. Beat on high until fluffy. Add the salt water, and mix until well combined. Spread filling onto one cookie, and press second cookie on top. Ready to eat immediately. Makes 3 dozen oatmeal cookies or 18 cream pies. Store in airtight containers.
MOCHA COOKIES
1¼ cups flour
½ cup sugar
Dash of vanilla
⅛ teaspoon salt
½ cup finely ground hazelnuts
2 tablespoons finely ground coffee
1 egg
½ cup butter, softened
Preheat oven to 390º Fahrenheit. Combine flour, sugar, vanilla, and salt. Spread out some parchment paper, or prepare a clean work surface, and form a mound with the dry ingredients on the prepared surface. Beat the egg well, make a dent in the mound of ingredients, and pour the egg into it. Cut the butter into pieces, and add it to the egg. Knead the dough until ingredients are mixed well then cover mixture and let chill for about 15 minutes. Form balls about one inch in diameter (or a little smaller) then flatten until they're 6–7mm thick. Bake for about 10 minutes. Cookies may be a little soft when you take them out. Cool on rack before adding glaze.
For the glaze:
⅔ cup confectioner's sugar
1 tablespoon finely ground coffee
1 tablespoon hot water
Dark chocolate mocha beans for decorating
Mix the first three ingredients together, and then spread over the cooled cookies. Top each with a dark chocolate mocha bean and serve. Makes about three dozen cookies. Store in airtight containers.
OATMEAL CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
1 cup margarine
¾ cup brown sugar
½ cup white sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1½ cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
3 cups oatmeal
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350º Fahrenheit. Cream butter and sugars together until fluffy. Beat in egg and vanilla. Stir in remaining dry ingredients until well mixed. Add chocolate chips. Drop by teaspoonful onto parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake about 10–12 minutes. Cookies are done if the tops spring back when lightly pressed with finger. Remove from oven, and place on rack to cool. Makes about 3 dozen cookies.
SALLY'S SHORTBREAD
Note: These can be made as simple shortbread bars or as slice-and-bake refrigerator cookies.
1 pound butter (4 sticks)
1 cup sugar, plus additional ¼ cup for sprinkling
4 cups flour
To make simple shortbread bars:
Place butter in a large microwavable bowl, and microwave on low power (20%) for 2–3 minutes until very soft and creamy but not melted. Add the cup of sugar to the softened butter, and stir with a spoon until fully blended. Add the flour to the butter and sugar mixture, and mix gently with your hands until it comes together into a heavy dough. Do not over mix. The dough will be very sticky. Place dough in an ungreased 13 x 9-inch pan, patting it down evenly and into the corners with your fingers until the surface is smooth
and even. Prick dough all over, down to the bottom of the pan, with a fork. Sprinkle a few tablespoons of sugar evenly over the top. Place the pan in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 375º Fahrenheit. Bake shortbread for 5 minutes, and then without opening the oven, reduce heat to 300º and continue baking for another 50 minutes or so, until shortbread is a light golden color. Cut immediately into 32 bars and place on cooling rack for 15 minutes. Remove bars from pan, and continue to cool. Once completely cooled, place in tins or airtight containers. Makes approximately 32 bars.
To make slice-and-bake refrigerator cookies:
Place butter in a large microwavable bowl, and microwave on low power (20%) for 2–3 minutes until very soft and creamy but not melted. Add the cup of sugar to the softened butter, and stir with a spoon until fully blended. Add the flour to the butter and sugar mixture, and mix gently with your hands until it comes together into a heavy dough. Do not over mix. The dough will be very sticky. After mixing the dough, separate it into 4 equal portions and place each onto a separate sheet of waxed paper. Shape and roll each portion of dough into an 8-inch log in the waxed paper, and fold the ends closed. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 375º. Unwrap from the waxed paper, and slice each log into 8 rounds. Lightly dip the top side of each cookie into the sugar, place several inches apart on two baking sheets, and prick each cookie through a couple of times with a fork. Bake the cookies for 2 minutes then, without opening the oven, reduce heat to 300º and continue baking for another 20 minutes or so, until shortbread is a light golden color. Place pan on cooling rack for 5 minutes. Remove cookies from pan, and continue to cool. Once completely cooled, put in tins or airtight containers.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bruns lives in Upstate New York with a male dominated household that consists of her very patient husband, three sons, and assorted cats and dogs. She has wanted to be a writer since the age of eight when she wrote her own version of Cinderella (fortunately Disney never sued). Catherine holds a B.A. in English and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.
To learn more about Catherine Bruns, visit her online at: http://www.catherinebruns.net
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BOOKS BY CATHERINE BRUNS
Cookies & Chance Mysteries:
Tastes Like Murder
Baked to Death
Burned to a Crisp
A Spot of Murder (short story in the Killer Beach Reads collection)
Cindy York Mysteries:
Killer Transaction
Priced to Kill
Aloha Lagoon Mysteries:
Death of the Big Kahuna
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SNEAK PEEK
If you enjoyed this Cookies & Chance Mystery, check out this sneak peek of the first Cindy York Mystery from Catherine Bruns.
KILLER TRANSACTION
by
CATHERINE BRUNS
CHAPTER ONE
This was a new one for me. I'd never had a client fall asleep while signing a contract before. I blew out a sigh. Was I really that boring? "Mrs. Hunter?"
There was no answer.
"Mrs. Hunter, can you hear me?" I glanced anxiously at my watch while she dozed. It was after 11:30 on a brisk Tuesday morning near the end of April. I was hosting an open house in less than an hour and really needed to be on my way. The caterer would be arriving soon with the sandwiches and expected me to meet him at the front door.
Again, there was no response, except for a faint whistling coming from the mouth of Agnes Hunter, a tiny and sweet, white-haired, eighty-year-old woman. In the two weeks since I had come to know Mrs. Hunter, she seemed to have shrunk more with age. She needed to sell her home at 6 Partridge Lane in order to pay for the upcoming expenses of going into assisted living. A friend of a friend had recommended my services, and Mrs. Hunter had finally decided to let me come over to tour the house and, after a week of running personal errands for her, agreed to sign a contract. She didn't even argue about the seven percent commission fee my agency charged since she needed the money desperately and was anxious to proceed.
Fred Hunter had built the white, raised ranch-style house specifically for his wife about 60 years ago, complete with cute red shutters and a white picket fence. They'd lived there their entire adult lives, until Fred passed away two years ago. There was no way Mrs. Hunter could keep up with the repairs alone.
The sun shone through the wood-framed windows adorned with handmade lace curtains. There was peeling wallpaper and worn carpeting in every room. The clapboard siding had seen better days and was cracked, splintered and faded. Cosmetic issues could have easily been corrected, if she'd had money for such repairs. However, with so much work for a potential buyer to do, Mrs. Hunter's profit would be affected considerably.
I glanced at my watch again. Sheesh. I had been here over an hour already, and she still hadn't signed. Mrs. Hunter knew I had children, and I'd happily shown her pictures when she'd asked to see them. I'd smiled at the "My, how do you ever tell them apart" comment when I told her my boys were twins and accepted the tea she insisted on making while I tried to explain the more complex details of the contract.
Although Mrs. Hunter was willing to sell her home, she was fast turning into what we real estate agents deemed "a tough sale." Whenever I visited, something managed to go awry. The first time, her toilet overflowed. Since money was an issue, I'd called upon my husband, Greg, to come fix it. He wasn't happy since I'd interrupted Sunday afternoon baseball but, realizing this was possible income for me, had immediately taken care of the issue.
During my next visit, Mrs. Hunter's cat escaped when I opened the front door. I'd spent an entire hour outside yelling, "Here, Madame Puss," and gave up counting how many snickers and wise cracks I'd endured from neighbors—most of them children. When I'd finally found the temperamental kitty hiding behind some bushes and scooped her into my arms, she'd rewarded me by sinking her fang-like teeth into my thumb. Mrs. Hunter assured me that Madame Puss was up to date on all of her vaccinations. At least, she thought so. Days later, my thumb still smarted.
"Mrs. Hunter?" I called again and touched her arm, hoping she'd wake up before I missed my open house and maybe the rest of the day as well.
Her eyelids flickered, then widened with fear as she reached inside the deep pocket of her flowered housecoat. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?"
Good grief. I'd heard from neighbors that she was in the early stages of dementia and hoped she wasn't packing a Smith & Wesson. "I'm Cindy York from Hospitable Homes. You asked me to sell your house for you."
Recognition slowly replaced the dazed look on her face. She took her glasses out of her pocket, put them on, and peered at me. "Oh, Cindy, dear." She yawned. "I'm so sorry, I must have dozed off. Never fear. I'm back now."
"That's all right." I handed her a pen and placed the contract on the table in front of her. "Now that you're ready, I'll need you to sign and initial on page one. When you're done with that, you sign and date—"
Mrs. Hunter studied me. "Did I ask if you wanted a cup of tea, dear?"
I grinned and raised my cup in the air.
"Oh, good." She smiled and smoothed the tablecloth in front of her, apparently relieved her good manners hadn't failed her.
"Okay. I need you to sign and initial on the bottom of page one. Yes, right there." I flipped over the sheet. "Here, on the bottom of page two, I need a full signature. And on page three—"
Mrs. Hunter paused and lifted her pen away from the papers. She observed me cautiously over the rims of her glasses. "What am I signing?"
Uh-oh. I closed my eyes and blew out a slow breath. Maybe she's worse off than I
thought. "The contract for me to list your home, Mrs. Hunter. Remember?"
Mrs. Hunter shook her head and took off her glasses, wiping them with a tissue that sent a puff of dust into the sunlight. "Oh, my dear, I can't sign that."
Now I was confused. "I don't understand. What do you mean, you can't sign it?"
"Well, I signed another contract yesterday."
My heart skipped a beat. Okay, I must have heard her wrong. "Are you sure? Why would you sign with another agent when you were supposed to list with me?" Please let her be joking. I needed this listing. Bad.
"Oh dear." She blinked several times. "Well, I know I'd planned to, but the other young lady was so sweet, and she said you wouldn't mind since you both work for the same agency anyway. She even brought flowers and my favorite candy."
No, it can't be. I sucked in a sharp breath. "Would her name happen to be Tiffany Roberts?"
"Why, yes, it was." Mrs. Hunter nodded. "Oh, good, so you are friends. Isn't it nice how this all worked out?"
I bit my lip hard, afraid I might cry that second. "Tiffany and I both work for the same agency, but that doesn't mean anything. She's the one who will be selling your house now, not me."
Mrs. Hunter frowned. "But you two could work together and split the money you earn. Isn't that the way it works?"
Burned to a Crisp (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 3) Page 21
