by Leslie Meier
1 cup heavy cream
¼ cup grated Parmesan
In a saucepan on medium heat add butter and melt.
When the butter is melted, add the flour and whisk until a light blond color.
Add your heavy cream and whisk until there are no lumps and the sauce is smooth. (If too thick, you can add a little milk to thin it a bit.)
Remove sauce from heat and add the Parmesan cheese, whisking until all the cheese is incorporated into the sauce.
Remove your finished dough from the bowl and place on a lightly floured surface and divide your dough into three different sizes.
If you have made homemade dough, you could have a little too much to fit on the cookie sheet, so just remove some dough first and make an extra pizza on the side.
Shape and roll your dough pieces into the thickness you prefer for pizza and then place on a cookie sheet to make your snowman: big circle on bottom to small circle on top for head.
Spoon the Alfredo sauce on the pizza rounds and spread evenly with a spoon.
Add your mozzarella on all three dough rounds and top with your preferred toppings to make eyes, nose, mouth, and buttons.
Bake at 400 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes, or until pizza is done.
Remove from oven and—voila—you’ll have the cutest snowman pizza! Better take a quick picture for your friends because it will disappear faster than a real outdoor snowman will take to melt!
Gemma’s Hot Chocolate
Ingredients
¼ cup cocoa
½ cup sugar
½ teaspoon salt
⅓ cup water
4 cups milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
In a saucepan mix your dry ingredients, then add the water, bring to a boil and boil for one minute. Add the milk, stir and heat to desired temperature. Remove from heat and add the vanilla. Pour into mugs, serve, and enjoy!
Mom’s Special Hot Chocolate
Ingredients
Gemma’s Hot Chocolate
1 ounce vodka
½ ounce peppermint schnapps
Pour a mug of Gemma’s Hot Chocolate, add the vodka and peppermint schnapps, stir, then sit by a warm fire on a cold night and let your troubles melt away!
Chapter Ten
As she ran toward the house, huffing and puffing, arms pumping, Hayley wanted to kick herself for wasting so much valuable time chasing down dead-end clues, when, in fact, the real killer had actually been inside her own house the whole time! And now, because of her useless, stupid snooping, her daughter’s life might now be in imminent danger!
Leroy, who trotted alongside her, desperately trying to keep up with Hayley’s pace, started barking, as if he innately sensed trouble was brewing back at the house and was sounding the alarm. Behind her, Hayley could hear Mona wheezing and coughing as she struggled to stay close on Hayley’s heels.
When they reached the house, Hayley could see Gemma through the kitchen window, standing at the counter, chopping something. She didn’t immediately spot Conner.
Hayley tripped as she ran up the side porch steps and stumbled, her knee banging hard against the wood railing. Despite the searing pain, she bit her bottom lip, pulled herself upright, and continued on into the house. Dropping Leroy’s leash, she threw open the screen door and used her left shoulder to shove open the hardwood back door behind it.
Gemma, startled, dropped the knife she was holding in her right hand, which clattered into the sink. She whipped around, gripping a half-chopped carrot in her other hand. “Mother, you scared the bejesus out of me!”
“Where’s Conner?” Hayley gasped, clasping a hand to her chest to catch her breath.
“He went to the store to pick up some wine for dinner,” Gemma said, sighing, as she bent down to pet a discombobulated Leroy, who had passed by Hayley and was running in circles around the kitchen.
Hayley looked around, nervous. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Thank God! I need a beer!” Mona yelled as she pushed her way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the refrigerator.
Gemma stood back up to face her mother. “Why do you look so upset? What’s going on?”
“Listen, Gemma, we don’t have a lot of time, so I’m just going to be direct and come out with it. I know this might come as a shock, and it’s hard for me to find the right words to say what I have to say, but—”
“Your boyfriend is a serial killer!” Mona screamed.
Gemma stared at them incredulously. “What?”
Hayley sighed. “It’s true, Gemma. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but Mona saw his picture on one of those crime-tip TV shows and she swears it was him.”
“After how many beers?” Gemma asked, glaring at Mona and folding her arms.
“That was an unfair shot, Gemma! I used to babysit you and change your diaper when your mother and Danny used to go out on date nights. Show some respect. And for your information, I didn’t have a drop last night because I had to pick up my kids from a Christmas party,” Mona sniffed.
“What was the name of the show?”
“FBI’s Most Wanted or Most Wanted Files, something like that.”
“And if you saw the show last night, why did you wait until now to tell us?” Gemma asked.
“I don’t know, maybe I was worried I got it wrong, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was him! It was definitely him!” Mona argued.
Gemma spun around and marched out of the kitchen.
“Gemma, where are you going? I think we should get out of the house before Conner gets home,” Hayley called after her.
“I’m going to go get my computer.”
Hayley and Mona exchanged confused looks and then followed Gemma up the stairs and into her room, where they found her already sitting on her bed typing on her laptop.
“What are you doing?” Hayley asked gently.
“Going to their website. Here it is,” Gemma said, staring at the screen. “FBI’s Most Wanted Files. You say you saw the episode last night?”
“Yes, and it was him, Gemma, I swear it. I never forget a face,” Mona said, clutching the side of the doorway, almost afraid to enter.
“The episode isn’t available On Demand yet. Do you remember the name of the guy they were profiling? I mean, it wasn’t Conner Gibson, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t that. It was another name, but I’m only good with faces, not names. Sometimes I even forget the name of my husband . . .”
“Dennis,” Hayley offered.
“Yeah, him,” Mona said.
Hayley sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m sure a killer like that uses many different aliases.”
Gemma closed her laptop. “Do you honestly believe what Mona is saying?”
Hayley nodded. “I’ve never seen her so certain about anything in all the years we’ve been friends.”
Gemma spied something across the room. She jumped off the bed and walked over to a small desk and chair in the corner of her room. There was a black laptop case on top of the desk.
“What is it?” Hayley asked.
“Conner’s computer. He was returning some e-mails earlier,” Gemma said as she gazed at it, clearly debating with herself about something.
“Maybe there’s something incriminating on there! Do you know his password?” Hayley cried.
Gemma eyed her mother warily and said in a soft whisper. “No . . .”
Hayley bristled. “Gemma Liddy Mona Powell, I have always been able to tell when you are lying, and that, right there, young lady, was a bald-faced lie.”
“If we break into his computer and find nothing, then I’ve completely betrayed Conner, and I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
“If we don’t break into his computer, and he slaughters us all in our sleep, then you won’t have to worry about that because we’ll all be dead, do you hear me? D-E-A-D!” Mona bellowed.
“Tell me the password, Gemma, and I will look on his comp
uter so you don’t have to,” Hayley offered.
“I’ll still be complicit by giving up the password.”
“Is it a word, or a number, like a date, his birthday? What’s his birthday?” Mona asked.
Gemma shook her head. “Forget it, Mona!”
“Wait a minute,” Hayley said, her mind racing. “How did it come up, him telling you his password?”
“I’m not playing twenty questions with you, Mother,” Gemma said. “I’m not saying another word.”
“Why would he arbitrarily mention his password, unless. . . ?”
“Unless what?” Mona asked, dying to know.
Hayley shot forward, snatched the black laptop case off the desk, and ran out of the room before Gemma had a chance to move a muscle. Mona chased after her.
Gemma called after her. “Come back here! That computer does not belong to you!”
Hayley bolted down the stairs and into the living room, where she sat on the couch and set the case down on the coffee table. She quickly unzipped it and yanked Conner’s laptop out. She fired it up, waiting impatiently for the log-in screen to appear. When it finally did, there was a photo of Conner, one of his flattering headshots, and underneath that, a space to type in the password.
By the time Mona plopped down on the couch next to her, Hayley had already typed the word “Gemma” and tapped the enter button. Conner’s home screen popped up with all his desktop files.
She had successfully gained access.
Gemma flew down the stairs and made a grab for the laptop, but Hayley scooped it up before she had the chance and held it against her chest.
Hayley looked at her daughter, who stood before her red-faced with anger, and said solemnly, “I’m sorry, Gemma, but we have to know.”
Giving up, Gemma circled around the coffee table and sat down on the other side of her mother, unable to resist the chance to see what, if anything, her boyfriend was hiding.
First, Hayley scrolled down his list of e-mails.
Most were inquiries regarding possible acting opportunities, particularly an upcoming Broadway play that was holding auditions in a few weeks.
Mona grumbled, “I’m sure this whole actor identity is just one of many personas he uses to lure in his victims.”
Gemma shot Mona an annoyed look and then she returned her attention to the computer screen. Hayley was now opening a folder marked “Monologues,” which turned out to be just that, classic monologues for an actor of Conner’s age: scenes from Death of a Salesman, Fool for Love, The Glass Menagerie, The Importance of Being Earnest, The Cherry Orchard.
Gemma began twisting her blond hair around her right index finger nervously. “See? There’s nothing there! I feel so guilty! We never should have done this! I can’t believe there was a small part of me that for a moment didn’t trust him!”
Mona pointed at one of the files. “Click on that one.”
It was a folder labeled “Gemma.”
Hayley double-clicked on the folder and suddenly a collage of photos, all of Gemma, some in seductive poses, began filling the screen.
“Dear God, it’s like the shrine I saw that Kimmy Bradford had in her basement of Ryan Toledo!” Hayley gasped.
“He’s clearly obsessed with you, Gemma,” Mona cried. “He’s been collecting all these photos like a crazed stalker, waiting for you to disappoint him somehow, which will awaken the marauding killer living inside him, sparking a murderous rampage!”
“Mona, please!” Hayley said, swatting Mona on the shoulder before turning back to Gemma. “You have to admit, this is a bit disturbing.”
“No, it’s not,” Gemma whispered.
Hayley sat back on the couch. “How can you say that? Did he take all these pictures of you?”
“No, he didn’t!” Gemma wailed.
“Then who did?” Hayley asked.
Gemma buried her face in her hands and muttered, “I did.”
“You?”
“Yes, me,” Gemma sighed. “They’re selfies. I took them with my phone. They’re from my Instagram account.”
“Insta-what?” Mona asked.
“I made a digital collage and sent them to Conner for his birthday,” Gemma admitted. “For what it’s worth, he loved it.”
“So he’s innocent of stalking, but you’re guilty of trying to be a Kardashian,” Hayley scolded.
“Mother, please, I’m not that self-absorbed. It was a silly gift, that’s all,” Gemma said.
Mona’s eyes were fixed on the computer screen. She moved the cursor to an unmarked folder in the bottom left-hand corner of the home screen and double-clicked on it. What came up sent her spasming and gesturing toward the computer.
Hayley and Gemma stopped bickering long enough to see what was upsetting Mona so much.
Hayley’s heart sank.
Inside the folder were dozens of photos related to a string of coed murders along the East Coast with links to all of the articles on the victims from the press coverage. It was exhaustive and comprehensive, a far cry from someone having just a casual interest in the crimes. This was a folder belonging to someone rabidly interested or, even worse, directly connected to the case.
“No . . . ,” Gemma moaned.
“I knew it! I knew I was right!” Mona declared proudly.
Gemma jumped to her feet. “I can’t believe it! I’m dating a depraved serial killer! I hate my life!”
“We should probably get out of the house before Conner gets home,” Hayley said urgently, quickly ushering Gemma and Mona toward the kitchen to make a back-door escape.
But they had only made it to the kitchen window when Hayley saw a pair of headlights flash past as a car pulled into the driveway.
Chapter Eleven
“He’s back!” Mona screamed, grabbing a spatula off the kitchen counter to defend herself.
“What are you going to do with that, Mona, hold it to his throat?” Hayley asked, shaking her head. “Now let’s just stay calm.”
They heard two car doors slam shut outside.
“Someone’s with him,” Gemma whispered.
“Maybe he doesn’t work alone. He must need help getting rid of the bodies,” Mona said, spinning around and rattling through the drawers for a sharper weapon.
They heard footsteps pounding up on the side porch about to enter the back door into the kitchen.
Hayley quickly began herding Gemma and Mona out of the kitchen, where Leroy waited for them in the hallway, tail wagging, oblivious to the impending danger. “Quick! Everybody out the front!”
They barely made it to the coatrack near the front door when a man’s voice stopped them in their tracks.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
They all froze.
It wasn’t Conner.
She whipped around. “Bruce!”
Bruce stood by the back door in the kitchen, his arm around Dustin, who had a big grin on his face.
“Don’t you want to say hello to your son?” Bruce asked.
“Merry Christmas!” Dustin yelled as he pulled off his wool cap, took off his black leather gloves, and shook out of his winter coat. “I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”
“Dustin, when did you—”
“He got in about an hour ago. He called me to pick him up at the airport because he wanted to surprise you,” Bruce said.
“Surprise!” Dustin crowed, eyeing the half-made meat loaf on top of the stove.
“You scared us half to death!” Hayley scolded.
“He still may. I may be having a heart attack right now,” Mona said matter-of-factly, clutching her chest.
“Are you serious?” Hayley asked.
“No, forget it, it’s probably just a panic attack or gas.” Mona shrugged.
“I kind of expected a bigger reaction when I got here, maybe a few hugs and tears, like when the kids in the military serving in Afghanistan or wherever show up and surprise their families at Christmas and the videos always go viral,” Dustin said, a
rms out expectantly.
“Dustin! I’m so glad you’re home!” Hayley wailed, eyes welling up with tears on cue.
“Can we postpone this teary reunion until later?” Gemma asked, her whole body shaking. “We need to let them know about Conner.”
“Is that your new boyfriend I keep hearing about?” Dustin asked.
“Nice guy,” Bruce added.
“Uh, I’d say that part’s debatable,” Mona said.
“I think we should call the police and have them waiting here for him when he gets back from the store,” Hayley suggested, her mind racing.
“What if he shows up before they get here?” Gemma asked, nervously hugging herself to stop from shaking.
“Then we just have to act casual and pretend nothing is wrong until the squad car pulls up in front of the house, and then we’ll look puzzled as to why they’re here and then all calmly go outside, where they can arrest him,” Hayley said.
“Arrest him? For what?” Bruce asked, confused.
Hayley sighed, collecting herself. “Some disturbing information has come to light about Gemma’s boyfriend, and I don’t want you to panic, but you should know that Conner is a . . .”
“Conner is a what?”
* * *
The question didn’t come from Bruce or Dustin, but from the young man standing behind them in the back doorway.
Bruce and Dustin parted for them all to see Conner, holding a paper bag with two bottles of red wine.
Without missing a beat, Hayley sprang forward. “Conner is a dear for going out in this cold weather so we could have wine with our dinner. Thank you so much. What a thoughtful gesture.”
Hayley knew her performance was painfully forced and phony, but she had committed to acting as if everything was perfectly normal. Everyone else in the kitchen stood about awkwardly, not knowing what to say.
Hayley took the bag from Conner, a big, fake, frozen smile plastered on her face. She set the bag down on the kitchen counter and took the two bottles out and summoned an obvious frown, making sure Conner could take note of her displeasure.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
