Contents ( 62)
- Outstanding praise for Joanne Fluke’s delectable Hannah Swensen mysteries!
- Books by Joanne Fluke
- CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE MURDER
- Joanne Fluke
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Regency Ginger Crisps
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Pecan Chews
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Black and Whites
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chocolate-Covered Cherry Delights
- Chapter Twenty
- Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Epilogue
- Lovely Lemon Bar Cookies
- Index of Cookie Recipes
- Chapter One
- BROWN SUGAR DROPS
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- MERRY BERRY COOKIES
- Chapter Four
- IBBY’S METAPHYSICAL ENGLISH TOFFEE
- Chapter Five
- BUTTER-SCOTCHIES
- Chapter Six
- CANDY CANE COOKIES
- CHOCOLATE PECAN ROLL
- Chapter Seven
- CHOCOLATE MINT SOFTIES
- Chapter Eight
- FUDGE-AROONS
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- THREE-WAY FUDGE
- Index of Recipes
- Baking Conversion Chart
“I don’t know yet.” Hannah stepped back to survey the house. There wasn’t any easy way inside. “I guess I’m going to have to break a window.”
“Don’t do that. Bill says lots of people leave the door that connects their garage to their house open and that’s how burglars get in. Maybe Max left his unlocked.”
“That’s great, but how are we going to get in Max’s garage without a clicker? He’s got an automatic garage-door opener. I saw the hardware when I looked inside.”
“I know how.” Andrea sounded very proud of herself. “I watched Bill do it once, when our clicker didn’t work. He pulled up really hard on the door handle and it slid up a couple of inches, just enough for me to wiggle through. I think we could do it if we lift together.”
“It’s worth a try. Let’s find something to prop it open after we lift it.”
“How about those boxes?” Andrea pointed to the pile of old-fashioned wooden milk boxes that were stacked at the side of Max’s driveway.
“They’ll do.” Hannah walked over to retrieve a milk box. She positioned it next to her foot and then she grasped the handle of the garage door. “Come over here and help me lift. If we can get it open, I’ll kick the milk box under with my foot.”
It took a couple of tries, but they managed to lift the door almost a foot. Hannah propped it open with the milk box and stepped back to eyeball the opening. “It’s pretty small. I don’t think I can get under there.”
“I can.” Andrea sounded frightened, but she managed to give Hannah a grin. “I’m only a size five. Just hand me a flashlight when I get inside.”
Hannah watched as her sister stretched out on the driveway at the corner of the door, where the opening was larger, and began to wiggle through. Andrea hadn’t wanted to break in, but here she was, inching her way inside the dark garage.
“Okay, I’m in.” Andrea stuck her hand out of the opening. “Give me the flashlight.”
Hannah handed her the flashlight and watched the light grow fainter as Andrea moved deeper into the garage. A few moments later, the garage door slid smoothly open and Hannah stepped inside.
“Hannah?” Andrea motioned her over to Max’s car with the beam of her flashlight. “I think you’d better look at this.”
For a minute Hannah didn’t know what her sister was talking about. Max’s new Cadillac looked perfectly all right to her. But then she noticed that there was a see-through garment bag hanging on the hook in the backseat. Two suitcases were standing near the truck, as if someone had planned to stow them inside later, and a briefcase sat open on the passenger seat.
“Max was packing his car, but he didn’t finish.” Andrea gestured toward the suitcases.
“Because something or somebody stopped him,” Hannah stated the obvious conclusion. Max had intended to go to the Buttermakers’ Convention. His suits were hanging in the garment bag, his suitcases were ready to stash in the trunk, and his briefcase was on the seat. “Turn on the garage light, Andrea.”