Dessert is the Bomb

By Catherine Bruns

From USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bruns comes a hauntingly hilarious Halloween Cookies & Chance mystery!

Baker turned sometimes-sleuth Sally Muccio has always loved Halloween, but this year she has more on her mind than ghosts and goblins. In addition to catering a party at her wacky father’s funeral home, a competing bakery has just moved in across the street from Sally’s Samples. The new owner, Celeste Delgado, seems intent on burying Sal’s novelty cookie shop into the ground with her sensational smash cake bombs. Suddenly, the homemade fortune cookies that Sal and her best friend Josie create with loving care are predicting an ominous future for their business.

Before Sal can discover what’s behind Celeste’s grudge, the woman is killed by an explosion. To take the cake, Josie was heard threatening Celeste shortly before her death. A night in the slammer, another deadly explosion, and dangerous family secrets all add to Sal’s growing list of concerns. Like an oven timer, precious minutes of her life are ticking away. Can she find Celeste’s killer before everything blows up in her face?

*Recipes Included!*

The Cookies & Chance Mysteries:
Tastes Like Murder (book #1)
A Spot of Murder (short story in the "Killer Beach Reads" collection)
Baked to Death (book #2)
Burned to a Crisp (book #3)
Frosted With Revenge (book #4)
Silenced by Sugar (book #5)
A Drizzle Before Dying (short story in the "Pushing Up Daisies" collection)
Crumbled to Pieces (book #6)
Sprinkled in Malice (book #7)
Ginger Snapped to Death (book #8)
Icing on the Casket (book #9)
Knee Deep in Dough (book #10)
Dessert is the Bomb (book #11)

What critics are saying:

"A fantastic cozy mystery!"
—InD'Tale Magazine

"I want to visit more with all of the quirky characters just to see what crazy and outrageous things they will do next!"
—Fresh Fiction

"The Cookies and Chance Mystery series is more than just a series....it's a family !! Once you read the first book, you are hooked and feel like a member of the crazy Muccio family."
—Cozy Mystery Book Reviews

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
• Release date: Sep 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005907150

Catherine Bruns

USA Today bestselling author Catherine lives in Upstate New York with a male dominated household that consists of her very patient husband, three sons, and assorted cats and dogs. She has wanted to be a writer since the age of eight when she wrote her own version of Cinderella (fortunately Disney never sued). Catherine holds a B.A. in English and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.

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DESSERT IS THE BOMB

a Cookies & Chance mystery

by

CATHERINE BRUNS

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2021 by Catherine Bruns

Gemma Halliday Publishing

http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com

Design & background art by Janet Holmes using images under license from DepositPhotos.com.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A very special thank you to Kim Davis for loaning me her delicious butterscotch cookie recipe and especially for creating the smash cake bombs and allowing her photographs to be incorporated into the cover art! You never cease to amaze me with your talent.

As always, deepest gratitude to retired Troy police Captain Terrance Buchanan for answering my never-ending questions. Thank you to the dynamic duo of Constance Atwater and Kathy Kennedy for beta reading and always giving it to me straight. Last but not least a very special thanks to my husband Frank, who patiently puts up with me and my pretend little world, where I often take him along for the ride.

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CHAPTER ONE

Josie stood at the front window of the bakery, watching intently as a tall, skinny man in faded coveralls carried shipping boxes into the building across the street.

Excuse me, miss, I teased. When you get a chance, we have customers waiting. I hastily filled one of my Sally's Samples boxes with jelly thumbprint cookies for the impatient Mrs. O'Brien, a frequent customer of ours and also a notorious gossip.

Sorry. Josie grinned sheepishly as she joined me behind the display case. Sal, what do you think's going in that building? The suspense is killing me. It's been empty since we've been here. I hope they're turning it into a deli. She licked her lips in anticipation. Wouldn't it be nice to grab lunch there some days?

I laughed and handed Mrs. O'Brien her change. Listen to you. Most of the time you're too busy to eat lunch. And even when you do, it's not enough to keep a bird alive. How I wished I knew her secret for staying so slim. Of course, having four boys between the ages of four and fourteen years old didn't hurt either. Josie never had a free moment to herself.

Mrs. O'Brien wagged a stumpy finger at us. I've heard that a woman bought the building and her business has got some kind of unique concept. You know, like the fortune cookies you girls bake. She drummed her fingernails on top of the case. By the way, Sally, you forgot mine.

No, I didn't. They're right here. I waved my plastic gloved hand at her, which held two fortune cookies, and placed them in a separate bag. Every customer received a free one with their purchase. The messages were often unusual and a bit eerie. Nevertheless, our customers were fond of them. Josie and I printed our own messages when we had time but often purchased them from a novelty store.

My personal horoscope. Mrs. O'Brien smiled in satisfaction as she broke her cookie in half. Her expression immediately darkened. Really, Sally Donovan?

What's wrong? I asked.

Mrs. O'Brien's plump face turned a shade of crimson as she read aloud from the strip of paper. 'Tis the season for a diet.' Well, I never.

Josie attempted to hide her smile and failed miserably.

We didn't write that message, Mrs. O'Brien. You can have another cookie if you like, I offered, secretly cursing the novelty store. I needed to find out who was writing those snarky sayings.

Mrs. O'Brien didn't answer. She promptly turned on her heel and shoved the paper into the trash can. She mumbled, No respect for their elders, as she threw open the door and marched outside.

A dozen of the fudgy delight cookies, please, said the middle-aged man who was next in line. But I'll skip the fortune cookie.

Talk about not wanting to tempt fate, Josie said after he'd left. And don't worry about Mrs. O'Brien, Sal. She never stays offended for very long. She'll be back again tomorrow for her usual order of thumbprint cookies.

I know, but I hate to see customers upset. By the way, how did she get the scoop on the building across the street? She's always one step ahead of everyone else. I placed a tray of fortune cookies inside the case, admiring how pretty they looked. Josie often added sprinkles or dipped the ends in chocolate to give them more of a creative appearance.

My shop was different than most bakeries because I only sold cookies. We currently had over 25 delectable varieties, which included everything from melt in your mouth chocolate chip to genettis. Josie also took occasional orders for wedding cakes.

Sally's Samples had celebrated its fourth anniversary in September. There had been many ups and downs during that time frame, but I was proud that I'd managed to make a living doing something I enjoyed. In addition, I was also able to pay Josie a respectable wage with some fringe benefits, but I could never afford to pay her what she was truly worth.

My best friend was the icing on the cookie, so to speak. A fabulous baker, Josie had once dreamed of becoming a pastry chef in Paris. That fantasy had disappeared in a hurry when she'd married at nineteen, quit culinary school, and had her first child a few months later. Instead of lapsing into self-pity, Josie had refocused her energy into making my dream come true. She came up with endless recipes, and her cookies always tasted amazing. Her homemade fortune cookies were better than mine, which was mystifying to me since we used the exact same ingredients. In short, she was magical in the kitchen.

Who knows with Mrs. O'Brien, Josie spoke teasingly. Maybe the fortune cookies told her.

Smart aleck. I shut the door to the display case. The contractors have made great progress in only a couple of weeks. My husband owned a small construction company, but he wasn't involved with this project. He had more than enough work to keep him busy for the next year or two.

Josie started assembling some of the pink Sally's Samples boxes. We always tried to have a stack on hand in case of a sudden rush. She sniffed the air, and a satisfied expression came over her face. I can smell that hot pastrami already.

I emptied the cash register drawer and placed receipts in a pile on the counter. I'm not sure how I feel about a deli moving in there. What if they have desserts?

Josie waved a hand dismissively in the air. It'll be fine. I'm sure it would only be a couple at most. Besides, with Halloween coming up in a few days and then the holidays, we're going to be crazy busy as it is.

She bounded across the room toward me, her blue eyes wide with excitement. Josie had been my dearest friend since the age of eight. We knew each other inside and out, and she was my closest confidante, with the exception of my sister Gianna and my grandmother. My family had wondered at first if working side by side every day might hurt our friendship, but those fears had been unfounded. Our relationship was stronger than ever.

Mrs. O'Brien said it was unique to the area, which doesn't say much. If she knew what was going in there, she definitely would have told us, I said. Maybe it's a costume shop.

No way. It's less than a week until Halloween. If they were renting costumes, they would have opened up at least a month ago. She smacked her hand against her forehead. "Shoot. Speaking of Halloween, I forgot to tell you that your father called. Again. He wants me to make spider and skeleton shaped cookies for the party. He also wanted to know if I could put them in water resistant containers so that people could bob for them."

Excuse me?

She nodded. Yeah, my reaction too. Some days I wonder how you and Gianna managed to turn out normal.

My father, Domenic Muccio, was excited about the upcoming Halloween party he was throwing at his business establishment—a funeral parlor, of all things. He was either a creative genius at work or the weirdest man who ever walked the earth. Dad had decided to hold a party at Muccio Mortuary in honor of my mother's new fashion line. Maria's Mourning Wear consisted of unique outfits for people to wear at wakes and funerals. The problem was that my mother thought cocktail dresses were as suitable for a somber event as they were for a nightclub.

We're going to have to close the bakery early on Halloween, I reminded her. Dad wants at least one of us at the funeral home by five thirty to set up.

Josie shook her head. I must have been nuts to agree to this, but there's no way I could turn down the money your mother's investors are throwing our way. What other games is your father planning on besides bobbing for skeletons?

I might as well get it over with. Josie would find out soon enough anyway. Hide the coffin.

She cocked an eyebrow at me. Say what? How is your father going to hide a coffin? Please don't tell me he's sending people into the graveyard with shovels.

A shiver ran down my spine. Jeez, don't give him any more ideas. I think he's planning to hide little plastic ones in the funeral home, and whoever finds the most wins a prize of some sort.

Josie snorted. What's he giving away? An urn? Honestly, I really don't understand why so many people in Colwestern want to go to this thing. Our town is weird.

Sadly, I had to agree. During the course of my thirty-two years on this earth, I had come to realize that not much about my life was normal. My father spent forty years working for the railroad and then retired to find his true passion—dead bodies, coffins, and a daily blog about death. Yes, we all had our little idiosyncrasies.

Dad's got a whole agenda planned. He said there's something for everyone. He's even arranged Halloween bingo for those less adventurous.

Stop it. Josie put her hands over her ears. I don't want to hear any more. If Danny didn't need braces, I'd say forget the whole thing. Let's hope no one suffers a fatal heart attack.

My mouth dropped open in shock. Don't say such a thing!

She narrowed her eyes. Come on, Sal. There's a good chance something will go wrong. It always does when your family is involved. No offense.

Josie had a point. Dead bodies often littered the road of my life. I'd learned to accept that this might be my density as Grandma Rosa said. Of course she meant destiny but often got her sayings mixed up. As long as my daughter wasn't in any danger, I would learn to deal with fate. Cookie, whose real name was Corinne, wasn't even a year old yet. She had no idea that her mother found more dead bodies than the local coroner.

Josie shrieked and hurried over to the window. Ooh! Look, they're putting the sign up! Maybe now we'll find out what's going inside.

I joined her at the window. Two burly looking men were hoisting a large metal sign on top of the one-story gray building. A slim woman with long dark hair stood in front, surveying their progress.

"It's the Bomb, I read out loud. That doesn't tell us much."

Josie looked disappointed. It could mean anything. Everything is the bomb these days. Talk about your cliché sayings.

I removed my apron and walked into the back room, with Josie following. Well, I'd love to know more, but I need to get home, so let's close up. Mike's making dinner tonight.

Aw, how sweet. Josie grinned. I didn't know he could cook.

Neither did I. I hung my apron on one of the brass hooks. But he's got to be better at it than I am.

She began washing the steel tray in the sink. That's not saying much, Sal.

Very funny. He finished a job early today and picked up Cookie from my parents' house, so he said he'll take care of dinner.

Josie stacked the tray in the strainer. Which means sandwiches.

That got a laugh out of me. We have meals in the freezer that my grandmother sent over last week. If he nukes them, does that count as cooking?

She rolled her eyes at me and didn't reply.

The bells on the door jingled, and I stared down at my watch in surprise. It was after five, and we were officially closed. Didn't you lock the front door?

Josie frowned. I thought I did. She dried her hands on a dish towel and joined me in the storefront.

A woman I'd never seen before was studying our display case with interest. She looked to be in her mid-thirties. She smiled at both of us, but the aloof expression in her dark eyes immediately put me on guard.

Hello. I'm Celeste Delgado. I thought it was about time we met. My shop, It's the Bomb, will be opening later this week.

Oh, yes! I'd only seen her from the back, so I hadn't recognized her. Celeste was exceedingly attractive, with ebony colored hair like mine. Hers was sleek and smooth, while mine was curly to the point of being frizzy. Her almond shaped eyes were striking, and although she was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she had a regal air about her that drew one's attention.

I extended my hand. It's so nice to meet you.

You must be Sally Muccio. She scanned me up and down critically, as if I were a cake she was considering purchasing.

Sally Donovan, I corrected. Muccio is my maiden name. And this is my partner, Josie Sullivan.

Josie extended her hand, but Celeste didn't even glance in her direction. Oh, that's right. I heard that you got married. And you have a daughter. Cookie, right? You must be into puns.

I blinked in surprise. Do we share a mutual friend?

Celeste eyed the cookies in the display case and ignored my question. It's the Bomb opens on the 30th, just in time for Halloween. I'd hoped to be ready by now but ran into some electrical problems. It doesn't matter, though. I've been getting so many orders online that I've been super busy.

A gnawing sensation settled in my stomach. What type of business are you running? A deli?

She laughed out loud. No, I'm opening up a bakery.

You're kidding. The shock was evident in Josie's voice.

Celeste beamed. It's true. I sell a little bit of everything, but my specialty is bombs.

I gripped Josie by the arm. What kind of bombs?

Josie shot me a look of disbelief. She's not a terrorist, Sal. She's talking about dessert bombs. There are many different types.

Oh, sure. I knew that. Maybe. I'd only had hot chocolate bombs before. They were adorable, decorative balls of chocolate or vanilla filled with cocoa powder and miniature marshmallows. When warm milk was poured over them, they made a divine cup of rich hot chocolate. Smash cake bombs were out of my league, although I was certain Josie could make them.

Celeste's cheeks turned pink with excitement. I also sell pastries, doughnuts, and cookies as well. You know, like most successful bakeries do.

I blinked. Was she taking a jab at my bakery? I hoped it was my imagination.

Smash cake bombs are my specialty, Celeste went on. They're cylinders of decadent chocolate or vanilla with—

I know what they are, Josie cut in.

Again, Celeste ignored her. …special treats inside them, like cookies or candy and secret messages. You know, similar to fortune cookies.

My jaw almost hit the floor. We give away fortune cookies. They're our signature cookie.

Really? I had no idea. Celeste pressed her hand against her chest. I have several varieties of smash cake bombs available for Halloween, or at least I did. I've had so many orders online that I had to stop taking them this week.

Wonderful, Josie said bitterly. So why are you here? To gloat?

I nudged her in the side. Jos, I'm sure there's plenty of room for two bakeries in town. In town, maybe, but across the street from each other? Heck, we were doomed.

Excuse me, a timid voice said. I turned around to see Dodie Albert, my part-time employee, standing there with a smile as bright as sunshine. Sally, Josie, I'm sorry to barge in, she stammered. I forgot my purse.

Dodie was a widow in her sixties, with snow white hair and a sweet disposition. She was a good baker and enjoyed working for me. It wasn't about the money for her. She loved connecting with people.

Unfortunately, Dodie was one hundred and ten percent accident prone. It was rare that she got through a day without breaking something or dropping an egg—or a dozen—on the floor. Nevertheless, my customers adored her, and the pluses outweighed the minuses. At least I thought so.

Celeste suppressed a yawn, patting her mouth with slender fingers. Well, ladies, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work. My grand opening is coming up fast. Stop by for a doughnut and cup of coffee. They'll be free all day. I expect to have a huge crowd.

Josie's face turned as red as her hair. Forget it. We wouldn't be caught dead in there.

Stop it, I whispered.

Good luck with your bombs, Josie said. But remember that you're not the only one who knows how to make them.

Celeste cocked her head to the side and studied Josie with new interest. Well, on that pleasant note, I'll be going. She stopped at the door and then turned around, a fake smile plastered across her face. Take care. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other.

The bells on the front door were set in motion with her departure, their jingling noise clanging in my head.

Josie clenched her fists at her side. What the heck do you make of that? It's like she has some personal vendetta against you and the bakery!

Do you know that woman, Sally? Dodie asked.

I shook my head. "I've never seen