Killer Caramel Cookies: Book 1 in the Killer Cookie Series Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  KILLER CARAMEL COOKIE

  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

  Killer

  Caramel

  Cookie

  Book One

  in

  Killer Cookie

  Cozy Mysteries

  By

  Patti Benning

  Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Author’s Note: On the next page, you’ll find out how to access all of my books easily, as well as locate books by best-selling author, Summer Prescott. I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on – reader feedback is very important to me. Please see the following page for my publisher’s contact information. If you’d like to be on her list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc…just shoot her an email and let her know. Thanks for reading!

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  KILLER CARAMEL

  COOKIE

  Book One in Killer Cookie Cozy Mysteries

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You know the drill by now, Lilah, so I’ll leave you to it. I’m glad to have you back. Start by checking on table two. It looks like he could use more coffee.”

  “Thanks, Randall. I owe you one.”

  Lilah Fallon straightened her name tag, brushed a stray crumb off of her shirt, then reached for the coffee pot. The diner’s familiar kitchen was bright and welcoming, and the smell of frying bacon permeated the air, making her stomach pinch. She had spent most of the last paycheck from her previous job on rent, and her fridge at home was dishearteningly empty. At least here she’d be able to throw herself together a decent meal during her break.

  Lilah pushed through the swinging doors into the dining area and headed for table two. She recognized the man sitting there; he was a regular that she had served countless times over the past couple of years.

  “Hey, Levi. Do you want another coffee?” she asked in her brightest voice.

  “Yes, please.” He glanced up at her and did a double-take. “Lilah? When did you start working here again?”

  “This morning. I was pretty lucky. Randall said he needed someone to cover morning shifts, and he had me start right away.” She poured coffee into his mug, and found herself eying the stack of waffles on his plate. Her stomach growled.

  “How long has it been since I’ve seen you last? A couple of weeks? A month?”

  “About that.” She gave him a self-conscious grin. “The voice-over job didn’t last long. I probably shouldn’t have kept mixing up the ads for hemorrhoid cream and ice cream.”

  Levi chuckled. “It’s nice to have you around again. You always tell the best stories.”

  “I’m glad I keep you entertained,” she said with a laugh. “You just holler if you need anything else, okay? I’ll be here all morning.”

  Lilah left the diner at noon with a full stomach and a doggy bag containing a second sandwich for dinner. It was a hot day, as most days in Vista, Alabama were, with a slight breeze that made the short walk home all the more enjoyable. The ability to wear shorts to work, she reflected, was a definite perk of being away from the corporate world. She might miss a few things about the fast paced job in Montgomery that she had left behind a few years ago, but the dress code was definitely not one of them.

  She paused outside of her bright yellow house to get the newspaper and the day’s mail. Her orange tabby, Oscar, was visible in the window, sunning himself on the sill. Lilah waved to him as she walked up to the front door.

  “I’m home, you two,” she called as she pushed her way inside, trying to keep a hold of her purse, doggy bag, newspaper, mail, and keys without dropping anything. “Winnie, Oscar, come here and get treats.”

  There was the sound of claws scrabbling against the wood floor as Winnie, her beagle, jumped up from wherever she had been napping and hurried into the kitchen to greet her. Oscar followed more slowly, as if determined to show more dignity than the dog did. Lilah reached into an owl shaped cookie jar on the counter and withdrew two small treats. The first she tossed to Winnie, who made a valiant effort to catch it. It bounced off her nose, and she ended up chasing the treat across the floor.

  With the dog otherwise occupied, Oscar approached and rubbed against her ankles, purring loudly. Lilah bent over and offered him the second treat, which he sniffed for a second before delicately taking it from her fingers. She smiled and stroked his back before straightening up to put her sandwich in the fridge and go through the mail.

  Once she had put her bills into a pile to be ignored until her first paycheck from the diner, she poured herself a cold glass of lemonade from the fridge, pulled her brunette hair down from the tight ponytail it had been in for work, and settled down at the small round table in the kitchen to peruse the local newspaper, The Vista Journal. The upcoming Arts and Crafts Festival had made the front page. Lilah smiled to see her friend and neighbor, Margie Hatch, featured in the photo of last year’s festival. She took a moment to read the article, then turned the next few pages over until she reached the ads section.

  One ad in particular caught her eye. It was a local help wanted ad from the hair salon, offering a starting position with decent wages. An image of herself in a black stylist’s apron putting the final touches of hair spray on a celebrity’s up-do flashed through her mind. She didn’t have much experience in cosmetology, but the ad said that they were willing to train the right person. There was no telling where this might take her, she thought with excitement. A whole new world of success and fun was at her fingertips. All she had to do was turn her resume in and hope for an interview. After some liberal use of the internet, she would practically be a hair care expert.

  Excited by the prospect of her new career, Lilah took her lemonade outside and sat on the rocking bench by her front door while Winnie sniffed around. She really couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought of working at a salon before. She loved talking to people, and she had always enjoyed playing with her friends’ hair when she was a kid. The prospect of smelling like s
hampoo and conditioner when she got home from work, instead of bacon and sausage, was a good one too.

  When it came down to it, she couldn’t think of a single bad thing about being a hairdresser. Not like working as a voice-over actor, where people were always on her about pronouncing a certain word correctly, or criticizing the creative comments that she liked to add to the script. And what had she been thinking when she had taken that landscaping job for that rich guy? She had never been good with gardening tools. She should have known that trying to use the electric trimmer to sculpt the hedges would end in disaster. Compared to some of the jobs that she had done, working at the salon should be a walk in the park.

  Lilah heard the screen door to her neighbor’s house slam shut and saw Winnie’s ears perk up. The beagle trotted across the yard, her white tipped tail wagging. The soon-to-be hairdresser turned to see an older woman approaching across the grass.

  “Good afternoon, Lilah. Are you back from work already, or haven’t you started yet?”

  “Hi, Margie. I got back about half an hour ago. Randall let me begin right away,” Lilah explained as her friend bent down to greet Winnie.

  “That’s nice of him,” Margie said. “I came over to ask you if you would like to have dinner at my house tonight. Seeing as you have the rest of the day free, you’re be welcome to come over a little bit early and help me make some cookies for the Arts and Crafts Festival.”

  “I’d love to, Margie, thanks. I’ve got to warn you though; I’ve never really spent much time baking.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing,” her friend said with a warm smile. “You can learn as you go. I’ll send you home with a few of them, so it will be worth your while.”

  “Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Lilah watched as Margie made her way back across the yard and into her house. After calling Winnie back, who had tried to follow her, she finished the last drops of her lemonade, got up, and went back inside to begin researching everything she could about the world of hair.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A few hours later, her mind stuffed to the brim with new knowledge about hair, Lilah brushed out her own hair, grabbed her phone, and said a quick goodbye to Winnie and Oscar.

  “I’ll just be over at Margie’s,” she told them. “Holler if you need something.”

  Bending over, she planted a kiss on the top of the beagle’s head, then let herself out the front door and began the short walk across the grass. She was only a little surprised to see a car that she recognized sitting in her friend’s driveway.

  “Hi, Lilah,” Reid said as she walked up the steps to the porch. “How are you?”

  “Okay,” she said, shifting awkwardly on her feet. He was crouched in the entranceway, a toolbox by his knee. There was no easy way around him. “What are you doing?”

  “Margie asked me to come by and fix her screen door. I’m just about done.” He tossed a screwdriver into the toolbox and stood up. “How is that voice-over job going?”

  “I got fired.”

  “Oh.” Reid fell silent, as if not quite sure what to say, then began fiddling with the door again. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s fine. I’m back at the diner for now.” She decided not to mention the job at the hair salon; in the off chance that it didn’t pan out, she didn’t want to have to explain it to him.

  At that moment, Margie appeared at the door, all smiles. “Oh, Lilah, you’re here. I think Reid was just finishing up. Why don’t you come in? And are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner, Reid?”

  “Sorry, Margie, but I can’t. Maybe next time.” Reid picked up his toolbox and open and shut the screen door experimentally. “She’s all fixed up. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Lilah watched as he walked down the porch steps, toolbox in one hand, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Muscles flexed under the tanned skin of his forearms, and his dark hair was impeccably styled even after showing off his handyman skills in this heat. He was attractive, she would never deny that, but he was also everything she was trying to stay away from. She had the sneaking suspicion that Margie was trying to set them up, but when she glanced back at her friend, the older woman was smiling innocently.

  “Ready to get to baking?” she asked.

  “I am, if you are,” Lilah said. “Lead the way.”

  Margie’s kitchen reminded her of her grandmother’s. It was chalk full of cookbooks and spices, with pots and pans hanging from hooks over the sink. It perpetually smelled of something delicious, and today was no exception; dinner was simmering away in the crockpot. The room was a warm place that she immediately felt at home in.

  “What are we making today?” she asked as she walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

  “I was thinking cookie cups. Chocolate chip with some sort of chocolate pudding filling, and sugar cookie with a fruit jam filling.”

  “Wow. Both of those sound amazing,” Lilah said. “Where do we start?”

  “We’ll make the sugar cookie dough first, because it has to chill before we start using it. I’ve already got most of the ingredients out, but we’ll need to open a new bag of sugar. Do you think you could get it down for me? Check the cupboard above the microwave. My hip’s acting up, or I’d do it myself.”

  “Of course,” Lilah said, dragging the step stool that her friend indicated over to the correct cupboard. She climbed up and opened the doors, spotting a couple of bags of sugar and flour, plus some unopened spices and cans. A can of pumpkin pie filling caught her eye. She licked her lips. Pumpkin pie was her favorite. It was too bad that they weren’t making pie today. That was something that she would definitely be on board with.

  An idea struck her as she grabbed one of the unopened bags of sugar. “Say, Margie, have you ever made pumpkin spice cookies before?”

  “I can’t say that I have, but they sound like they’d be good,” her friend replied. “Do you want to give them a go? I’m not sure if I have all of the ingredients…”

  As Margie fretted around the kitchen, making sure everything was ready for their baking adventure, Lilah picked up a cookbook that was laying out on the counter and flipped through it. It was filled with tasty looking desserts. She turned the page to see a caramel flavored cheesecake that looked decadent.

  “Hey, Margie, if we make pumpkin spice cookies, could we try to do something like this for the filling?” She tilted the cookbook for her friend to see. “A pumpkin caramel cheesecake cookie sounds delicious, doesn’t it? It would go well with the season, too.”

  “Sure, we can try whatever you would like, dear. I think I’ve got everything we’ll need. Shall we get started?”

  Under the older woman’s direction, Lilah tied an old apron around herself and began combining the dry ingredients for her pumpkin spice cookies. Flour, baking powder, baking soda, and, to her surprise, salt, all went into the bowl together. She thought it seemed a little counter-intuitive to add salt to something that was supposed to be sweet, but trusted her friend’s guidance. Margie often brought over baked goods, and they were always delicious, so she figured her friend must know what she was doing.

  Once the basics had all been measured out and poured into the glass mixing bowl, Lilah peered at the row of spices that Margie had lined up next to their cooking station.

  “I don’t see pumpkin pie spice here,” she told her friend. “Could you not find any?”

  The older woman chuckled. “It’s not just one spice, Lilah. It takes a mixture of spices to get the traditional pumpkin pie flavor, and I’ve got everything we need right here. See? Here’s allspice — smell that, it’s good, isn’t it? — and nutmeg, cinnamon, and then just a dash of ginger. Now, you mix that all together, and I’ll open that can of pumpkin.”

  The dry mixture smelled quite good indeed — just like Lilah thought pumpkin pie should smell like, in fact. She was impressed by how easily her friend seemed to remember all of these recipes. She hadn’t even seen her check the cookbook
once.

  They mixed together the pumpkin pie filling, eggs, vanilla, sugar, and butter next, then Lilah stirred while Margie slowly added in the dry mixture. In what seemed like no time at all, they had cookie dough of the perfect consistency that smelled just like a pumpkin pie.

  “That was easy,” the newly converted baker said in awe. “I’ve had most of these ingredients all along. I can’t believe I never thought about trying to make my own cookies before.” That’s what she got for spending most of her life so entrenched in the corporate world, she thought. She had missed out on a lot before she took the time to step back and smell the roses… or in this case, the pumpkin spice.

  “We’ll chill this dough for a bit while we get the plain sugar cookies done, then we can start baking,” Margie said, covering the ball of dough with plastic wrap and putting it in the freezer.

  “Why do we have to chill it?” Lilah asked.

  “It makes it easier to work with,” her friend explained. “It will hold its shape when we bake it better, too. It won’t need long, though. You’ll be able to taste your pumpkin cookies in no time.”