by Joanne Fluke
Looks are deceiving, Hannah repeated one of her grandmother Elsa’s favorite sayings several times in her mind, and then she stepped back for a second look. It was an arm all right. And the arm was attached to a body.
“Uh-oh,” Hannah groaned, swallowing hard, and at that exact moment, the security light cycled off. The sudden absence of the megawatt glare made the darkness seem even more intense and Hannah had all she could do not to scream. She reminded herself that she had two choices. She could stand here wondering if she’d really seen what she thought she’d seen, or she could run back inside and get Mike.
The delivery door opened with a creak and Hannah almost jumped out of her skin. Then she heard a voice. “Hannah? Is there a problem?”
It was Mike’s voice. Hannah swallowed hard. It seemed she had a third choice. She could say that there was a problem and ask Mike to get over here on the double. That would be the wisest choice, if only she could find her voice.
“Hannah?”
“Over here,” Hannah gulped out the words.
“What is it? You sound funny.”
Hannah took a deep breath. And then she said, as clearly as she could. “There’s a body in this Dumpster.”
Mike wasted no time in joining Hannah. He pulled out his flashlight, trained the beam inside, and groaned. “It’s Sheriff Grant.”
“Dead?” Hannah asked, watching Mike as he leaned forward into the Dumpster to feel for a pulse.
“Yes.”
Hannah gulped, trying to accept the fact that someone she’d spoken to less than three hours ago was inside a school Dumpster, dead.
“Looks like someone hit him on the back of the head. There may be another wound, too. There’s a big smear of dried blood on the front of his uniform.”
Despite her revulsion, Hannah looked at the area Mike indicated with his flashlight. He was right. There was a smear of something dark on Sheriff Grant’s uniform shirt. She cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. “That’s not blood.”
“It’s not?”
Hannah shook her head. “It’s fudge frosting. Sheriff Grant died eating one of my cupcakes!”
Can’t get enough of Joanne Fluke and Hannah Swensen?
Need a second helping?
Then turn the page for a special note from Hannah’s niece,
Tracey, who’ll tell you about SUGAR COOKIE MURDER
coming in October 2004 from Kensington Publishing!
Dear Santa,
How are you? I am fine. I sure hope you remember me what with all the kids who write to you this time of year. My name is Tracey Todd and I live in Lake Eden, Minnesota. My daddy’s the new Sheriff of Winnetka County and my mommy’s a real estate professional. I asked you for a dollhouse last year and you gave it to me. It’s real nice.
I’m writing this to help my Aunt Hannah. You probably remember her. Those were her cookies that we left out under the tree for you. We’re all stuck here at the community center after the big recipe testing Christmas party dinner. The food was great and it was fun, but we can’t go home. It’s supposed to be because of the big blizzard, but that’s not the real reason. Right after Edna Ferguson finished cutting the cakes. I saw Aunt Hannah come in from the parking lot and she had that look on her face. Then she pulled Uncle Mike (he’s daddy’s most important detective) off in a corner so they could talk. They looked real worried and that’s why I think Aunt Hannah found another body. She does that a lot. Anyways, she wants all of us kids to stay busy writing letters to Santa. I bet she figures that way nobody will guess what’s really wrong.
I better start writing my Christmas wish list now so you’ll know what to bring me.
The first think I want is for Mommy to have the new baby. She’s awful big so could you please let her have it right away? I can tell Daddy’s worried about her and they’ll both be happy after the baby’s born. Mommy says he’s a boy and his name is Billy. That’s nice, but if you can still do it, could you please make Billy a girl? I’d much rather have a little sister.
The next thing I want is for Rose from Hal and Rose’s Café to give my Aunt Hannah her famous coconut cake recipe for the cookbook. Poor Aunt Hannah’s asked for it a bunch of times, but Rose won’t give it her. Could you get it, please? Tonight was supposed to be the last chance to test recipes for the cookbook, but Aunt Hannah’s editor is very nice and I bet he’ll let her put it in.
This next thing is a big favor I need. I know this is your busy season, but if you have time, please talk to Uncle Mike. Tell him that Aunt Hannah would make a perfect wife and he should ask her. And then please talk to Uncle Norman. I want him to ask Aunt Hannah, too. That way she can make up her mind which one she likes best and I’ll get to be in another wedding. I’m already going to be in Lisa and Herb’s wedding on New Year’s Eve. I get to wear a beautiful red velvet dress and carry white roses with the thorns cut off.
There’s another thing I want, Santa. Mommy and Aunt Hannah are all worried about Grandma and Winthrop. They think he’s a crook. If he is, please make him leave Grandma alone. If he’s not, I guess it’s okay even though I don’t like him very much.
I don’t really want anything else for Christmas except maybe a puppy. I think I’m going to get that anyway, but not right away.
Love,
Tracey
P.S. If it’s not a secret, will you tell me how you got my dollhouse inside our living room last Christmas? I know it’s too big to fit down the chimney. I measured.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2003 by Joanne Fluke
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 0-7582-4723-0