Baked to Death (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 2) Read online

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  BAKED TO DEATH

  by

  CATHERINE BRUNS

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  Copyright © 2015 by Catherine Bruns

  Cover design by Yocla Designs

  Gemma Halliday Publishing

  http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  RECIPES

  FREE BOOK OFFER

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BOOKS BY CATHERINE BRUNS

  SNEAK PEEK

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I am so fortunate to have such a supportive group of people in my life. Special thanks to retired Troy Police Captain Terrance Buchanan who is always willing to answer my questions, no matter how numerous they might be! A debt of gratitude to critique partner Diane Bator and beta readers Constance Atwater, Krista Gardner, and Kathy Kennedy for taking another journey with me. Profound thanks to Frank and Patti Ricupero, Amy Reger, Sharon Hmielenski, and Karen Clickner-Douttiel for the use of their treasured family recipes. To my own family—sons Phillip, Jacob, and Jared, and especially my husband Frank for his love and immeasurable patience. And as always, deepest appreciation to publisher Gemma Halliday and her fabulous staff who make it so easy for me to do what I love.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  The compressed sand burned my bare feet as I ran toward the crystal clear blue water with brilliant sunlight cascading down upon it. I dog-paddled in, just enough so that the water came up to my shoulders when I stood and let myself sink into the delicious coolness around me. Ah, this is living. Only one thing missing.

  The well-built man who dove in and swam toward me was a nice touch. He drew closer and walked the last few steps. My mouth dropped open in surprise as recognition set in.

  "Nice bikini, babe." He winked at me.

  I stared at the smooth, muscular chest in front of me, skin golden in the sun, and the wet, black swim trunks that clung in all the right places. I fought to control my rapid breathing before I started panting like a dog. It can't be.

  "Aren't you Bradley Cooper?"

  Bradley smiled down at me with eyes the same color as the water. I turned around, sure this must be a mistake, looking for any other signs of life on the nearby shore. Nope. We were the only two around. Was he really talking to me?

  "Sally Muccio, have you been drinking again?" He wrapped his arms around my waist. "I was wondering where you were. It was getting lonely out here."

  Okay, so apparently he was talking to me. Had I been drinking? I couldn't remember. "Um—"

  "Don't worry. I'll take care of everything." Bradley lowered his face, and just as his lips were about to brush against mine, his phone pinged. He grinned and held up a finger then reached down into the pocket of his swim trunks. "Gotta take this, babe. Could be my agent."

  I stared at the phone, fascinated. "It works under water?"

  He studied the screen then flashed me another smile. "Of course. I bought it in Hollywood."

  Well, that explained everything.

  Bradley put the phone back in his pocket and sighed. "Gotta go, babe. New part. I'm flying to Australia tonight." He blew me a kiss and started swimming further away from the shore and me.

  "Wait!" I said. "Where are we?"

  He yelled over his shoulder. "Bahamas. Don't you remember anything? And it might be a good idea to start laying off your granny's cheesecake, too."

  "Hey, that's not nice!" I shouted after him.

  Bradley kept swimming, but I could still hear his voice perfectly. "Later."

  "You're going the wrong way!" His phone started ringing again, louder and more obnoxious than ever. "And could you please shut that thing off?"

  The ringing continued to grow louder until I was forced to cover my ears. I took a step forward and stumbled. Preparing for the water to cover me, I shouted, "Wait!"

  Thunk!

  I opened my eyes to find myself lying facedown on brown shag carpeting. The shower was running in the adjoining bathroom, and I could smell coffee brewing. I hoisted myself up on my elbows and looked around. The ringing of the cell phone was still going strong, but at least I knew where I was now. At my boyfriend's. Relief washed over me. Dang. What a dream. I really had to stop eating Mexican food before bedtime.

  The ringing finally came to an abrupt and merciful stop. I reached on top of the nightstand for my phone and stole a glance out the window. There was at least two feet of snow on the ground and another foot predicted for today. Lovely. No Bahamas here, but another B word came to mind. I was in the Buffalo region—Colwestern, New York, to be exact. In January, of all months. Yes, it didn't get much worse than this.

  I sighed and looked down at the screen of my neglected phone for the first time since last night when I'd arrived to spend the evening. Three missed calls from a private number. There was a text from my mother, asking if we were still coming for dinner tonight, and another from my best friend and business partner, Josie Sullivan, reminding me she was opening the bakery this morning.

  A third text was from my baby sister stating that she was about to have a nervous breakdown. She'd highlighted the word breakdown with about a dozen exclamation points. Gianna was a recent graduate of Harvard Law School and taking the bar exam next week. She'd already convinced herself she was going to choke. I knew it wouldn't happen. Gianna was the brains in my family. She'd ace it.

  Gianna had been assisting Josie and me in my cookie shop when we needed an extra hand. We'd been swamped with patrons the past couple of months, especially over the holidays. Now that it was January, we were convinced that the surge in business wasn't letting up anytime soon. Because of this, we were interviewing a woman for part-time help today.

  Last week Gianna had been waiting on customers when one asked her how the studying was going. She'd immediately burst into tears. Colwestern was a small town, and most people were aware she'd been going to prep classes and studying like a fiend since she'd graduated last year. Josie and I were
starting to think it might be a good idea if Gianna stayed out of the shop for a while.

  I sent Gianna a quick text reminding her it would all be over soon and that she would do great. The phone rang as soon as I finished, startling me, and I nearly dropped it. "Hey."

  "Hey, yourself. I was wondering if you were planning on coming to work today," Josie said. "You know, that little bakery you own? The one that opened an hour ago?"

  I reached for my pink satin robe—a Christmas gift from my boyfriend—at the bottom of the bed. "Very funny. I'll be there. You knew I'd be late today. And I'm covering for you on Monday, remember?"

  My cookie shop had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start when I'd opened it last September, thanks to a patron dropping dead on my front porch. After Josie and I had discovered the murderer, business had returned to normal and now exceeded my expectations most days.

  "Better give yourself a little extra time to get to work," Josie said. "The roads are pretty nasty. Oh, and I've got some news when you get here."

  "What kind of news? Is everything okay?"

  "It's all good," Josie said. "I've been so busy with customers that I haven't been able to do much baking though. But the storm is supposed to pick up, and I'm guessing that will keep people from coming out. I know you want to spend a few hours with your man, and it's rare that he finagles a morning off, but get here because I may burst something if I have to wait much longer to tell you."

  I glanced at my watch. Ten o'clock. "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

  The shower had stopped, and I flopped back down on the bed for a minute. I was thrilled that things were going so well with my business, but sometimes wished my boyfriend and I could spend one uninterrupted day without real life crashing in around us. He'd hinted at that lately, too. He'd also brought up cohabitation as well, but I wasn't sure I was ready yet.

  A painful divorce last August had left me bruised and scarred. I'd been determined to swear off men for a while, but my grandmother had convinced me to go forward with my life and follow my heart this time. And I had done just that.

  Something I should have done ten years ago.

  The door to the bathroom opened, and I smiled at the man who stood in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and nothing else. His dark hair was damp and curled below the nape of his neck, and his midnight-blue eyes were fixed on me. When he smiled, my heart constricted inside my chest.

  Mike Donovan had always managed to have this effect on me ever since his family had moved to Colwestern when we'd both started high school. The first time those deep-set eyes found mine, I was lost. We'd dated for two years, and I'd been convinced he was the man I was destined to marry. Some unfortunate circumstances had torn us apart, and while on the rebound, I'd hooked up with the man who later became my husband, Colin Brown. Our shaky-from-the-start marriage ended abruptly when I found him in bed with someone else.

  It had taken ten years, but Mike and I had found our way back to each other.

  He walked over and sat on the edge of my side of the bed and gathered me into him, planting a soft kiss on my lips. I stared at his handsome and rugged tanned face. He smelled of the spicy aftershave I loved to inhale. Filled with desire, I ran my hands over his powerful chest.

  "Sleep well?" Mike said into my ear as his lips brushed across it.

  I giggled. "I don't remember getting much sleep."

  "You were out like a light when I went to make coffee," he murmured as his lips traveled downward to my neck. "Was it a good dream?"

  It took me a minute to even remember the dream. "Eh, I've had better." Then I recalled the unflattering comment. "Do you think I have cheesecake thighs?"

  Mike stopped kissing me and drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "Excuse me?"

  I pushed the robe aside and pointed at the olive skin tone of my leg and thigh. "Nothing. Um, I mean, I'm getting fat, right? You can tell me the truth."

  His eyes shone as he kissed me again and reached down to untie the belt of my robe. His hand skimmed against my bare leg, heating it until I was convinced it must be on fire. "Hmm. I don't see any cheesecake here. Only perfection."

  And in a split second, Bradley Cooper faded into a distant memory.

  * * *

  A little over an hour later, we were in Mike's new Ram truck headed for my shop. He had insisted on taking me to work since the roads were slick. He put the truck in park in front of my bakery and turned to wrap his arms around me. "When was the last time I told you how much I loved you?"

  "It's been at least twenty minutes," I teased. "And for the record, I love you, too."

  He cradled my face in his hands. "If you really love me, you'll marry me."

  I froze at the mention of the M word. For the record, it wasn't the first time Mike had mentioned marriage. He had hinted at the subject before Christmas but only enough so that I knew he'd been looking at rings. I'd begged him to hold off for a while. The very mention of the word gave me heart palpitations. Despite how much I loved Mike, I knew I wasn't ready. Yet.

  He brushed a strand of hair back from my face. "Sal, these have been the happiest four months of my life. Well, since we first dated, I mean. I'm sick and tired of spending a night at my place and then back to yours. Just move in with me, and then we'll fly off to Vegas and get married."

  "I can't leave the shop right now."

  "Josie can handle things for a few days. Gianna can help."

  I shook my head vigorously. "Gianna is in no shape to help with anything. Her exam is coming up next week."

  "Another reason for us to get married right away. You move in with me, and she can have your apartment over the shop. She needs to get away from your loony parents."

  I couldn't argue with that logic. "By the way, Mom wants us to come for dinner tonight. She's been asking for over a week now, remember? Then we're meeting Josie and Rob at Ralph's for drinks to celebrate her birthday on Monday."

  "Oh, I forgot." He looked unhappy. "We really need to get away. Have some time alone."

  "I already spend so much time at your house people are starting to talk. Mrs. Gavelli came into the shop yesterday and called me a tramp."

  Nicoletta Gavelli was my parents' next-door neighbor. She'd lived there since I was a baby and had been calling me similar names pretty much since I'd learned to walk. They'd escalated on the day that she'd found me playing doctor with her grandson—at his suggestion—when I was only six years old.

  Mike grinned. "Ah, the old lady's jealous." He grew silent and ran a finger gently down the side of my face.

  "What?"

  "You're beautiful, that's what. And you've been avoiding my question for weeks now." He reached for my hand and kissed it. "I love you. And I want to marry you. I wanted to marry you years ago. If I hadn't screwed up that night—"

  I put a finger to his lips. "You didn't screw up. I never gave you a chance to explain. I should have trusted you more."

  Mike wove his fingers through my hair and observed me thoughtfully. "But you're not going to marry me, are you?"

  I blew out a sigh. "It's way too soon after the divorce. What would people think?"

  He gazed at me with a determined set to his jaw. "Who cares what they think? This is our life. No one is going to tell us what we can and can't do. I almost lost you a few months ago. If that had happened—" His eyes grew soft. "You're the only person on this earth who matters to me."

  A lump as large as a mountain formed in my throat, and tears stung the backs of my eyes. Unlike me, Mike had had a rough childhood. Abandoned by his father at the age of five, he'd suffered years with an alcoholic mother and an abusive stepfather. When she was dying of cirrhosis, he'd been the one to take care of her. Another reason I loved him so.

  "I just need some time," I said. "It will happen. I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

  He sighed. "Okay, I'll try to be patient. But I'm going to promise you something, too."

  "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

  Mike g
lanced out into the street, watching the snowflakes whirling around in the white winter wonderland. Then he turned back and stroked my cheek with his fingertips. "Nothing will ever come between us again. I won't let it."

  I kissed Mike softly and let myself out of the truck. He waited until I was by the front door of the bakery and had turned around to blow him a kiss. He smiled, waved, and the truck roared off.

  "Someone's been busy." Josie's large blue eyes shone as I wiped my boots on the mat just inside the door. Her long, auburn hair was pulled into a bun on top of her head. We'd been best friends since third grade when her family had moved here from Maine. She was an expert baker and decorator, and my business would never survive without her talent.

  Right now she had her hands full. There were three customers waiting in line, and I could smell her delicious spice cookies baking in the back room. I felt guilty. Even though this was my morning to come in late, I should have acted more responsibly.

  "Grab the cookies out of the oven, will you?" She asked as she collected money from an elderly woman standing in front of the counter.

  "Don't forget my free fortune cookie, girlie." The woman grunted as she waved her liver spotted hand at Josie.

  Josie bit her lip and turned away from the counter to ring up the sale. This was one of the few bones of contention between us. With every purchase, customers got a free homemade fortune cookie. Josie thought they were a waste of money, but I enjoyed seeing people's reaction to them—especially children's.

  "Sorry. The roads slowed us down a bit." I ran into the back room, grabbing some oven mitts to withdraw the trays of cookies from the oven. Even though the aroma was tempting, I fought the urge to snitch one, remembering the Bradley Cooper cheesecake comment again.

  Josie appeared at my side a minute later. She transferred the spice cookies to a cooling rack. "Customers are all taken care of. I can multitask quite well when I have to."