by Liz Mugavero
Scruffy’s Comfort Cookies (adapted from a vegetarian, IBD-safe recipe)
1 cup organic spelt flour
3/4 cup oat bran
1 cup rolled oat
2 tsp baking soda
1-1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground nutmeg
1 tsp ground allspice
1 cup organic butter
1/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup cane sugar
2 tblsp molasses
1 egg
1 tsp organic vanilla
Preheat oven to 300. Mix flour, oat bran, rolled oats, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice in bowl. Set aside. In a larger bowl, beat butter and sugars until smooth. Add molasses, egg, vanilla and blend. Add flour mixture. Use cookie scooper or spoon to transfer to ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 15 minutes or until brown.
Here’s an exciting sneak peek of Liz Mugavero’s next Pawsitively Organic Mystery!
The chain saw appeared out of nowhere, its wide arc narrowly missing the top of her head.
The revving sound filled Stan Connor’s ears, loud as a swarm of attack bees surrounding her. She caught a flash of the blade, sharp and silver in the moonlight as it swung. She thought she may have screamed, but she couldn’t be sure. She dove for the grass, still clutching her Pyrex containers of bat-and pumpkin-shaped doggie treats she’d spent the last two weeks baking. A fleeting thought ran through her brain: Does it hurt to be decapitated?
Then the buzzing noise ceased abruptly. Behind her, Brenna McGee, her new assistant, burst out laughing. Stan risked a glance behind her. Brenna was bent over at the waist, covering her mouth with her hand, silent laughter rocking her body. The chain saw hung at the side of a figure dressed completely in black, save for the grotesque mask of a face twisted into a scream. A rubber knife protruded from its head. The figure pulled up the mask.
“Thanks for blowing my cover, McGee.” The high-pitched voice didn’t fit the costume. Stan took a closer look. The boy under the mask couldn’t be more than fifteen. He seemed annoyed that he couldn’t actually hack someone up in his role.
Brenna wiped her eyes. “Really, Danny? You couldn’t scare a pack of kindergartners.” Both their eyes turned to Stan. Brenna reconsidered. “Well, she’s not in kindergarten. And does your mother know you’re out here with that thing? Bet she doesn’t.”
Brenna reached for the containers of treats and Stan’s bag of party goods. Luckily, everything had survived the fall miraculously unscathed. If they hadn’t, she may have had to use the chain saw on him, since she’d spent the last two weeks baking the darn things.
The boy hung his head, the chain saw drooping by his leg. “I was just playin’ around. Trying to get people amped for the maze. Don’t tell my mom, please? She gets, like, mad about stuff like that.” Danny shifted from foot to foot. The mask slid halfway down over his face again. “You okay, miss?” he asked Stan, still sprawled in the dirt listening to the exchange.
Stan got to her feet, brushing her jeans off with her free hand. Despite the fact that seconds ago she’d thought she was going to lose her head, she had to hand it to the kid. Once upon a time, Stan had been queen of Halloween pranks, and she couldn’t help but admire a good one. Waiting at the dairy farm gate—when people weren’t expecting to be scared—was clever. “I’m fine. But aren’t the Halloween props supposed to be in the corn maze?”
In addition to their dairy farm duties, the Happy Cow owners also had acres of corn, which they turned into a maze at the end of the season. Some people around town whispered they were doing it for the money, that things had been tough for the Hoffman family in recent years. Stan was still too new to Frog Ledge to know if that was true or not.
“Danny was never good at following directions.” Brenna winked at him. “I used to babysit him.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Like, a million years ago. Want me to take you guys—uh, ladies—inside?” Now that he’d stepped out of character, he’d reverted back to being gentlemanly.
“I think we’re okay.” Stan glanced at Brenna for confirmation. Brenna nodded. Stan turned back to Danny. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your post. I bet people won’t be expecting you. Or your chain saw,” she added, eyeing the machine dubiously. “You should at least remove the chain first.”
“So you gonna tell Mom?” He jumped from foot to foot, teenage adrenaline raging.
“Just go put it away before you actually slice someone up by mistake.” Brenna shook her head. “We’ll go find your mother. We have to set up for the doggie party.” She looked at Stan.
“She’s in the house.” He pointed. “And thanks!” He took off running, the weight of the chain saw dragging one side of him down, giving him a monster-like moonlit shadow.
Stan looked at Brenna, who shrugged. “The Hoffmans have always been a little crazy. Emmalee’s sweet, though. It’s Hal and the kids you have to worry about, clearly. We should get set up. The maze opens soon. Wait till you see it. It’s getting way better every year.”
From her house, two doors away from the farm, Stan had watched the transformation with the same excitement she’d had as a kid heading to the scariest haunted house. The Happy Cow Dairy Farm’s innocent-by-day atmosphere had been transformed into a Halloween junkie’s dream. Illuminated figures lit up the yard every few feet, from witches to ghosts to scary scarecrows to arched-back black cats. Even the roof of the barn, where the dairy cows stayed, had been draped with glittering cobwebs and enormous spiders.
Off to the right, the Hoffmans’ farmhouse was strung with purple and orange lights, more cobwebs and evil-looking pumpkin faces, which flashed eerily in the dusk. She loved Halloween. In a family of people who were Christmas types, she’d always been the odd one who adored getting scared senseless. Aside from the ad hoc chain saw at the entrance, of course.
It was the height of the Halloween season—two weeks before the main event. The crisp fall air had settled over their small Connecticut town, and the leaves were brilliant with color. It’s true. Nothing compares to fall in New England, Stan thought.
“You’re gonna go through the maze later, right?” Brenna was clearly itching to partake in the festivities.
“I’d love to. We’ll have to see how the party goes first.” Stan checked her watch as they made their way to the farmhouse. “Is this really the town’s first Halloween costume doggie party?”
Brenna turned back to Stan and arched an eyebrow. Before she could respond, a ghost popped up off the grass and screamed at her. She and Stan both jumped.
“Oh, cool! I haven’t seen those since I was a kid.” Stan stopped to admire the ghost, which immediately dropped to the ground in preparation for the next unsuspecting soul who stepped on the booby trap.
“They’re really going all out this year. Anyway, you think people had doggie parties around here before?” Brenna’s tone indicated Stan would be a fool if she replied affirmatively.
“Well, why this year?”
“Because every dog around here loves your treats, and Emmalee has a fenced-in area that’s perfect for a doggie party.” Brenna waved in the general direction of the house. “Benny is psyched, I’m sure.”
Benny was the fox terrier guest of honor. His parents, Nancy and Jim, had contacted Stan a few weeks ago, doing serious due diligence on the prospective costume party. Emmalee had offered her fenced-in yard for a nominal fee, and they had asked Stan to cater.
Stan was thrilled to oblige. She’d just started getting her new business, Pawsitively Organic Gourmet Pet Food, off the ground. A party was a great way to get exposure, and it gave her a chance to get Brenna involved. Aside from working nights and weekends at her brother Jake’s bar, Brenna studied political science by day and harbored a secret interest in animal nutrition, which she satisfied in any spare free time she had.
“Plus, I think it really is true … that Em needs cash.” Brenna lowered her voice as they neared the house. “Hal’s at the bar almost every night. Jake had to
shut him off a couple of times, and I think he just goes somewhere else after that. He’s really giving Em a run for her money.”
“That’s too bad.” Stan had never met Hal. She’d seen him around town here and there. Emmalee worked at the farm pretty much nonstop. She also took their goods to the farmers’ market, did home deliveries of their milk and kept an eye on the other local farms that operated under the Happy Cow name. Now she was renting out her yard, too. If the stories were true, Stan felt sorry for her.
She followed Brenna up the porch steps. The old Lab, who always hung out on the porch, barked halfheartedly from inside. A minute later, Emmalee yanked open the door. Describing her appearance as “frazzled” would be putting it mildly. Her brown hair seemed even more shot through with gray than the last time Stan had seen her. The long hours of physical labor the farm demanded of her had caused Emmalee to lose weight—but not in a muscle-gaining good way. The sound of a crying child wafted out at them from another room.
“Hi, ladies, come on in.” Despite whatever was going on, Emmalee managed a smile. “I had Danny set up some tables for you out back for the party. Nancy and Benny are out back. Jim went to get some pooper-scooper bags.”
“Ah, can’t run out of those.” Stan smiled. “How are you, Emmalee?”
Emmalee shrugged. Behind her, the shrieking child got louder. “Doing fine, doing fine. Have you seen Danny, by the way? He told me he’d do tickets for the maze, and it’s darn near opening time.”
Stan and Brenna glanced at each other. Brenna cleared her throat. “He, uh, went to the barn for a minute. He said he’d be right back. Do you need help with Chris?”
Emmalee glanced behind her, toward the sound of the child, fatigue slipping into her eyes. “I suppose so. Hal was supposed to take him out, all dressed up, to scare people in the maze. All the actors should be in their places by now. We have some scary things in there this year, we do. But Hal hasn’t come home yet.” She sighed. “So, yes, if you want to entertain Chris for a while, I’d sure appreciate it. I have a couple things left to do before I shut the barn down for the night.”
“I’ll do that and meet you outside,” Brenna told Stan.
“Come on, I’ll take you out.” Emmalee led Stan out back. Inside, the child finally stopped crying. Emmalee looked up and crossed herself. Stan could see the lights from the corn maze ahead. She wondered if Danny had put the chain saw away before manning the ticket booth.
“Benny is dressed up like a bumblebee. He’s none too happy about it, either,” Emmalee confided. “But the other dog owners promised they’d dress up their dogs, too.”
“I’ll make sure Benny gets special treatment as the host,” Stan said as Emmalee unlatched the gate and they stepped into the yard. Benny, a chunky black-and-white dog crammed into a hideous black-and-yellow-striped ensemble, lumbered over to them. The headpiece with the antennas was sliding forward.
“Benny! Your antennas!” Benny’s owner, Nancy, equally crammed into her jeans and knitted pumpkin sweater, chased him and stooped to right his headpiece. “He’s having trouble keeping it on,” she said, standing up and thrusting a hand at Stan. “So nice to meet you finally. Benny is so excited!”
“I’m so glad,” Stan said. “I’ll set up the treats and the prizes I brought for the games. You can pick out Benny’s first, since he’s the host.”
Nancy beamed. “Let’s do it. Before Nyla gets here.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Nyla?” Stan asked.
“The poodle from down the road. She competes with Benny for everything.” Nancy rolled her eyes.
A bark sounded from the front, followed by a ringing doorbell. “Excuse me, I’ll go let the guests in,” Emmalee said. “Stan, set up however you want.” She hurried back inside.
“Okay, so here’s what we have. Benny, you want to see?” Stan set her bag on the table and began unloading. “These are some new chews that I picked up. All natural, from a local farm.” She held one out for inspection. Benny immediately snatched it and dashed under the table.
“Ben-Ben! Manners!” Nancy sighed. “What kind of chew? He likes it.”
Stan hesitated. Some people got freaked out when she told them it was a cow trachea. But the reality was, it was the best treat for a dog. Rawhide was junk in comparison. Before she could answer Nancy, she heard shouts from out by the corn maze. Both women turned in that direction. Benny continued to eat his treat. Emmalee returned with a man holding a boxer on a leash. They both paused when they heard the shouting, now joined by screams.
“What’s all that ruckus about?” Emmalee asked, shaking her head. “If that boy is up to something again—”
“Mrs. Hoffman!” A girl dressed as a sexy vampire with a stake in her heart ran up to the fence. “You’ve gotta come right now. To the maze. Something’s happened to Mr. Hoffman.”
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2013 by Liz Mugavero
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.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-8478-5