Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(9)

After Bill left, Hannah thought about what she’d said. Andrea was right. She had no tact. A tactful person wouldn’t have mentioned the roll around Bill’s waist. It wasn’t her place to criticize Andrea’s husband.

As she walked back through the swinging door and took her place behind the counter, Hannah realized that she’d committed an even more serious sisterly infraction. She’d just promised to help Bill solve a murder case that might end up putting Andrea right out of a job.





Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies




Preheat oven to 375° F, rack in the middle position.

1 cup butter (2 sticks, melted)

1 cup white sugar

1 cup brown sugar

2 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons vanilla

2 beaten eggs (you can beat them up with a fork)

2? cups flour (not sifted)

2 cups crushed corn flakes (just crush them with you hands)

1 to 2 cup chocolate chips



Melt butter, add the sugars and stir. Add soda, salt, vanilla, and beaten eggs. Mix well. Then add flour and stir it in. Add crushed corn flakes and chocolate chips and mix it all thoroughly.



Form dough into walnut-sized balls with your fingers and place on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. Press them down slightly with a floured or greased spatula.



Bake at 375 degrees for 8 to 10 minutes. Cool on cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then remove to a wire rack until they’re completely cool. (The rack is important—it makes them crisp.)



Yield: 6 to 8 dozen, depending on cookie size.



(These cookies have been Andrea’s favorites since high school.)



Hannah’s Note: If these cookies spread out too much in the oven, reduce temp. to 350° F. and do not flatten before baking.





Chapter Three




“That’s it, Lisa. I’m ready to roll.” Hannah shut the back of her Suburban and walked around to climb into the driver’s seat. “I should be back by four at the latest.”

Lisa nodded, handing Hannah a container of lemons that had been washed until any germs courageous enough to light on their surface had fled in terror. “Do you want to take some extra sugar in case there’s a run on the lemonade?”

“I’ll just borrow some from the school kitchen if I need it. Edna doesn’t leave until three-thirty.”

When Lisa had gone back inside, Hannah backed into the alley and drove off toward Jordan High. It had been named after the first mayor of Lake Eden, Ezekiel Jordan, but she suspected that most of the students believed that their school’s namesake had played pro basketball.

Jordan High and Washington Elementary were two separate buildings that were connected by a carpeted corridor with double-paned windows that overlooked the school grounds. The two schools shared a common auditorium and cafeteria to cut down on costs, and there was only one principal. The maintenance crew consisted of four people; two took care of the janitorial work and the other two were responsible for the playground, as well as the high school athletic fields.

The Lake Eden school complex worked well. Since the grade school and the high school were connected, older brothers and sisters were always available to drive a younger sibling home in the event of illness, or to calm a frightened kindergartner who missed Mom and Dad. This arrangement also provided a bonus for Jordan High students. The seniors who planned to become teachers were encouraged to volunteer as classroom aides during their free period. The early on-the-job training had produced several college graduates who’d returned to Lake Eden to accept teaching positions at the school.

As she turned on Third Street and drove past the city block that had been set aside for family recreation, Hannah realized that there were no preschoolers playing in Lake Eden Park. The chains on the swings were perfectly motionless, the merry-go-round was still laden with the colorful leaves that had fallen during the morning, and though the temperature had topped the predicted high of forty-eight degrees, there were no children on tricycles pedaling along the circular sidewalk around the playground.

For a moment this struck Hannah as odd. It was the type of weather that a mother of a preschooler prayed for. But then she remembered what had happened this morning and she understood why the park was empty. There was a killer loose in Lake Eden. Concerned parents were keeping their children inside, out of harm’s way.

There was a long line of cars idling at curbside on Gull Avenue. It stretched for three blocks leading to and from the school complex, blocking access to driveways and fire hydrants in blatant disregard for the city parking statutes. Hannah inched her way past worried-looking parents waiting for the dismissal bell to ring, and as she neared the school, she saw that Herb Beeseman, his patrol car freshly washed and waxed, was parked diagonally in front of the entrance. He wasn’t handing out any tickets for the infractions that were occurring right under his nose, and Hannah assumed that he’d placed the safety of Lake Eden’s children at a higher priority than filling the city’s coffers.

Hannah reached back between the seats and snagged a bag of Molasses Crackles. She always carried several bags of cookies with her for times like these. Then she pulled up beside Herb’s patrol car and rolled down her window. “Hi, Herb. I’m going in to cater the Boy Scout Awards Banquet. Is it okay if I pull into the lot?”