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Eggnog & Extortion

Eggnog & Extortion

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Christmas orders, two men’s attention, and an upcoming event have Tess struggling to keep up—solving the murder of a sweet young woman wasn’t in her plans. But with her life and livelihood on the line, she can’t take the threat lightly. When the police arrest the wrong man, Tess is determined to uncover the real murderer.

Main Tropes

  • Amateur Sleuth
  • Small-Town Mystery
  • Love Triangle
  • Recipes included


Christmas parties can be murder.

Tess Crawford has her hands full at the bakery with Christmas orders, an upcoming event, and two men vying for her attention.

Getting pulled into a murder investigation wasn’t in her plans, but she can’t take the threat to her life in Silver Springs lightly. Though the police make an arrest in the case, Tess is sure they’re wrong. When not just her case but her business is at stake, can Tess find out the truth, save an innocent woman, and solve her relationship woes?

Intro into Chapter One

Big red bows decked the hall and multi-colored glass balls bejeweled the nearby Christmas trees at Nova Cosmetics, but I wasn’t full of holiday cheer. I checked my watch and resisted the temptation to tap my foot, wondering when Anise was going to finish her dog and pony show. Lenny and I were providing the desserts for Nova Cosmetics’ annual Christmas party and we’d been told things would be petering out by now. Then the dancing had been interrupted so Anise, the company’s founder and president, could wax poetic about how thrilled she was regarding the company’s growth, and her excitement about the breakthrough line of organic cosmetics they were releasing before the end of the year.

She was resplendent in her peacock blue dress, ice pick heels, and flashing jewelry. The woman knew how to pick gold and gems for maximum effect. Her necklace was flashy and a tad pretentious without being gaudy. How did she do that? I had a collection of jewelry I rarely wore, thanks to my job, but never seemed to have the just-right piece when I needed it.

Lenny muttered something unrepeatable about the length of the speech and several employees drifted toward the door, anxious for the night to be over. I was firmly in their corner. The event was supposed to be over in ten minutes but I didn’t see that happening.

“And now what you’ve all been waiting for.” Anise clapped her hands and people entered on each side of the stage, their arms laden with the company’s signature cerulean gift bags. “I have samples of the complete line for each of you, to thank you for your hard work. Please try them and spread the word.” She raised her hands with a flourish as if she had just performed an amazing magical feat.

Everyone clapped, though I wondered if, like myself, it was mostly in gratitude that the mind-numbing speech was over. Several men and women streamed from the stage, passing out more bags, and the dance music started again.

“Remind me to find an excuse not to come back here next year,” Lenny said to me. “If we get the contract, I’m afraid I’ll have an unavoidable trip to visit Kat’s parents.” He referenced his new wife.

I elbowed him. “You cannot tell me that listening to her was worse than dealing with your in-laws. Your in-laws, need I remind you.” They were mean to him, mean to Kat, and the worst kind of ignorant rednecks. The town of Silver Springs, Arizona, where we lived, was full of cowboys and ranchers, so I knew my rednecks. Most of them were not only much smarter than the term implied, but also extremely pleasant—an adjective that could only be applied to the female members of Kat’s family. The wedding was only a month behind us and the thought of seeing them again next year at Christmas already made me shudder.

“No, you’re right. I might as well save myself the airfare and stay here. At least I’m getting paid for this torture.” He tugged on his chef’s hat.

I shot him a dirty look for his bad attitude, and then smiled as someone approached for a slice of chocolate peanut butter cheesecake.

“I shouldn’t,” the cute twenty-something blond said as she accepted the treat. “I ought to be home dealing with my headache before it gets worse, but I can’t resist.”

I’d seen her in the shop a few times since I opened it the previous March, though I didn’t know her name. I loved moving to the town where my grandma lived until her death a few years ago, but I still had a lot of people to get to know. “Well, if anything short of medical assistance can cut a headache, it’s one of my desserts.”

“Don’t I know it?” She forked off a tiny sliver and her eyes closed with appreciation as she savored it. “I hear you’re doing a booth for Christmas Around the World. Will there be cheesecake?”

I smiled. “Nope, but there will be plenty of other treats. Like kolacky—which is a cookie made mostly of butter and cream cheese—total decadence. You should stop by and try a couple of them.” I was talking up the city celebration every chance I got—they had never held the event before and I was worried attendance wouldn’t be very good.

“I’ll have to do that.”

Someone called her name—which was apparently Jasmine—and she waved goodbye to us with her fork, as she had just taken another bite. She swayed to the music as she made her way back through the thinning crowd.

The crush of people ebbed and flowed around us, gradually growing lighter until most of them had wandered out nearly an hour later. Anise came over to the table with a gift bag in each hand and set them on the table. “The desserts were magnificent. Everyone raved about them. We’d love to have you back next year. Unlike some people.” She shot a look of disgust at the caterers who had brought the rest of the food.

The caterer had given us a few samples in the back room and the food seemed fine to me, some of it was even quite delicious. I wasn’t about to disagree with her, though. “I’m so glad you liked my desserts. You must be excited about your new product line. It was all the buzz in the room this evening.”

She preened a little. “It’s my brain child. There are so few products for people with skin as delicate as my own. I brought you both samples.” She nudged them toward us. Her eyes glanced over Lenny disapprovingly, even though he wasn’t wearing earrings at the moment, his tattoos were covered, and he wore the chef hat (which he hated with a burning passion) so you couldn’t see his usual blond, spiky hair. Maybe she disapproved as a matter of policy. “You probably have a girlfriend or someone whom you can give that to.”

His smile was stiff but he nodded and made nice. “I’m sure my wife will appreciate it. She’s always complaining about how hard it is to find cleansers without sulfates in them. She gets rashes.”

Anise brightened. “That puts her right in our target market—and at only thirty dollars a tube, it’ll be a steal.” She glanced at the clock. “I really should be going. Goodnight.” Anise didn’t wait for a response, turning on her four-inch heels and clicking across the tiled floor.

I saw Jasmine hurry after her into the hallway. Strange that she had stayed the whole night when she complained of a headache.

Lenny dug into the bag of bright, shiny products that would hopefully leave my skin bright, but not shiny, and snorted when he pulled out a tube of facial cleanser. It was about half an ounce. “I sure hope this is the sample size, because no matter how popular Kat’s paintings get, I can’t see her spending thirty bucks for something this tiny.” He tossed it back in his bag and shoved both of our bags under the table. “Let’s clean this baby up and get out of here.”

Nodding, I covered a yawn. I couldn’t agree more. I had to be back at the bakery in a little over six hours to start the morning prep.

“One more trip,” Lenny said as we trudged back inside, pulling our coats tighter around us. It was Arizona, but just outside of Prescott it still got pretty chilly in the winter, and a snow storm was on the way.

I grabbed the canvas bag of equipment while Lenny hefted the last heavy-duty plastic bin, and I snagged the end of my eggnog on the way out the door. Enjoying the creamy goodness, I decided I needed to get some next time I was at the store. Or take some time to whip up the recipe I’d perfected in culinary school. Most of the time I got home from closing the shop and wanted nothing more than to get off my feet for a couple of hours before bed. My eggnog recipe would be worth the trouble—but not tonight.

The glass double doors of the exit closed on someone as we came around a corner in the hall and I wondered who had been left in the building. The caterer had already cleared out—she and her helpers must have been just as anxious to get out as we were.

We took only a few steps out the door when I heard something thud to the ground ahead of us. Lenny and I looked at each other, and hurried into the parking lot. Someone lay twitching in the lamplight.

“It’s Jasmine,” Lenny said as he dropped the storage container and hurried to her side. She lay under the edge of a parking lot lamp’s reach, partially illuminated by its glow. Her face was pale and tight with pain.

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