Back Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder Save as PDF
Contents (62)
  1. Outstanding praise for Joanne Fluke’s delectable Hannah Swensen mysteries!
  2. Books by Joanne Fluke
  3. CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE MURDER
  4. Joanne Fluke
  5. Contents
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Regency Ginger Crisps
  16. Chapter Nine
  17. Chapter Ten
  18. Pecan Chews
  19. Chapter Eleven
  20. Chapter Twelve
  21. Chapter Thirteen
  22. Chapter Fourteen
  23. Black and Whites
  24. Chapter Fifteen
  25. Chapter Sixteen
  26. Chapter Seventeen
  27. Chapter Eighteen
  28. Chapter Nineteen
  29. Chocolate-Covered Cherry Delights
  30. Chapter Twenty
  31. Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies
  32. Chapter Twenty-One
  33. Chapter Twenty-Two
  34. Chapter Twenty-Three
  35. Chapter Twenty-Four
  36. Chapter Twenty-Five
  37. Chapter Twenty-Six
  38. Epilogue
  39. Lovely Lemon Bar Cookies
  40. Index of Cookie Recipes
  41. Chapter One
  42. BROWN SUGAR DROPS
  43. Chapter Two
  44. Chapter Three
  45. MERRY BERRY COOKIES
  46. Chapter Four
  47. IBBY’S METAPHYSICAL ENGLISH TOFFEE
  48. Chapter Five
  49. BUTTER-SCOTCHIES
  50. Chapter Six
  51. CANDY CANE COOKIES
  52. CHOCOLATE PECAN ROLL
  53. Chapter Seven
  54. CHOCOLATE MINT SOFTIES
  55. Chapter Eight
  56. FUDGE-AROONS
  57. Chapter Nine
  58. Chapter Ten
  59. Chapter Eleven
  60. THREE-WAY FUDGE
  61. Index of Recipes
  62. Baking Conversion Chart

Coach Watson looked sad. “It’s a terrible loss for The Gulls. Ron came to every practice and he was a real inspiration.”

“Do you suppose it was some kind of sports vendetta?” Al Percy asked, his dark bushy eyebrows almost meeting in a frown. “After all, Ron was The Gull’s star player for three years in a row.”

Father Coultas shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense, Al. Everybody liked Ron, even the boys on the opposing teams.”

“You’re right, Father.” Coach Watson was quick to agree. “Ron was popular because he played fair.”

Al continued to frown and Hannah could see that he wasn’t ready to give up his sports vendetta theory quite yet. “Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with high school sports. From what I heard, it was an execution-style killing and that sure smacks of bent-nose types to me.”

“Bent-nose?” Bonnie Surma bristled and Hannah remembered that her maiden name had been Pennelli. “Are you talking about the Mafia?”

Al nodded. “It’s not impossible, Bonnie. Everybody knows that they run the sports books and they could have recruited Ron to pick up bets with his milk orders. If Ron’s take came up short, they might have put out a hit on him.”

“You’re crazy, Al.” Marge Beeseman obviously didn’t believe in mincing words. “Ron was one of ours and he never would have done something like that. Besides, my Herbie says that Mafia hit men always shoot their victims in the back of the head. Or they use that wire thing to choke them like they did in The Godfather.”

As Hannah watched, Danielle’s naturally pale face turned a shade of sickly gray. The polite smile on her face crumpled and she looked as if she were struggling not to burst into tears. She turned to her husband, whispered a few words, and then she left the group. Hannah watched her as she pushed her way through the crowded room and headed out into the hallway that led to the ladies’ room.

This was her chance and Hannah wasn’t about to waste it. She set off after Danielle as fast as she could. Once she’d gained the hallway, Hannah headed straight for the ladies’ room with only one purpose in mind. She had to find out exactly what Danielle knew about Ron’s murder.

Chapter Seven

As Hannah approached the door to the ladies’ room, she heard the sound of muffled sobbing. Maybe it wasn’t fair of her to take advantage of Danielle in her grief, but playing fair wasn’t as important as helping Bill solve Ron’s murder.

Hannah pushed open the door and found Danielle standing in front of the long mirror above the sinks. She was dabbing at her eyes with a soggy tissue and she looked helpless and frightened. As Hannah stepped into the pink-tiled room, she felt like Simon Legree confronting Little Eliza.

“Danielle?” Hannah remembered the old flies-and-honey maxim and she put every ounce of sympathy she could muster into her voice. “What’s wrong?”