Death by Gingerbread Drops

By Jo A Hiestand

Rona Murray, owner of Linn House Bakery, enters the town's charity Christmas cookie auction, never expecting the evening to end in the death of last year's winner. Had someone baked to kill Angela, or had she just been sick? Curious, Rona turns up the heat when questioning people with ties to Angela. It's then she realizes her ex-husband, Johnny, is still in love with her. But will his love be enough to save her from a cookie crafter with a penchant for murder?

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Nov 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781509238101

Jo A Hiestand

A month-long trip to England during her college years introduced Jo to the joys of Things British.  Since then, she has been lured back nearly a dozen times, and lived there during her professional folk singing stint.  This intimate knowledge of Britain forms the backbone of both the Peak District mysteries and the McLaren cold case mystery series.  Jo’s insistence for accuracy, from police methods and location layout to the general feel of the area, has driven her innumerable times to Derbyshire for research.  These explorations and conferences with police friends provide the detail filling the books. In 1999 Jo returned to Webster University to major in English.  She graduated in 2001 with a BA degree and departmental honors. Her cat Tennyson shares her St. Louis home.

Book preview

Winter lay in the outcroppings of gray stone dotting the landscape where the wind had swept away snow. Snow coated the upper surfaces of tree branches and leaves, nestled between the wizened stalks of dead summer flowers, and topped the roof of the gazebo. The woods surrounding her house stood out in stark relief, dark tree trunks against a white background. Her world was quiet, as if hibernating until Spring. But she knew the feeling would soon fade as that morning’s sunlight angled into the deeper regions of the woods. It was a pity—she loved the peace of twilight and early dawn.

Last night’s storm hadn’t lasted long; just enough to give the area three to four inches. Consequently, it hadn’t taken much time to shovel a path from the kitchen door to the edge of the gravel parking lot beside her house.

The phone rang, jarring her from memories of her childhood visits. She grabbed her cell phone and smiled as Johnny’s voice warmed her ear. You’re up early.

Probably not compared to you. Did you sleep alright, Ronnie?

Not very. I kept thinking about… She swallowed and wandered into the den. Anyway, good morning, if that’s not a crass thing to say.

Glenn Somers called me a few minutes ago. He told me last night that he’d let me know when he found out anything, because we’re…involved. He paused, as if waiting for Rona to say something.

Praise for Jo A. Hiestand

Jo A. Hiestand is the winner of N.N. Light’s ‘Best Mystery Novel’ award for 2020 and 2019.

Death by Gingerbread Drops

by

Jo A. Hiestand

Christmas Cookies Series

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Death by Gingerbread Drops

COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Jo A. Hiestand

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Edition, 2021

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3810-1

Christmas Cookies Series

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To M-H, the first baker I knew.

Chapter One

From the look of the parking lot there’s a large crowd here this evening, Johnny Murray noted. The Bake-Up should make a lot of money, Rona.

Well, let’s hope so. That is the plan, Rona said as her ex, his arms loaded with boxes of Christmas cookies, stomped the snow from his boots just outside the café entrance.

Once inside, he glanced around the main room and marveled, Wow, look at this place.

Rona had to admit the transformation from a normal restaurant into a wintry festival was impressive. Paper snowflakes and glass icicles hung from the ceiling. The usual artwork had been removed from the walls, and had been replaced by wreaths, leaving space for various other holiday décor. Christmas songs played, and the aromas of hot chocolate and warm spices floated on the air.

Mmm, cookie aromas. Johnny took a deep breath. Smells like your place. Very nice.

Flattery will get you nowhere. You already had a cookie on the way over here. Rona owned the Linn House bakery. She shifted the silvery platters she carried under her arm as the recorded music floating from the café’s music system changed to I’ll Be Home for Christmas. Rona looked around the room, suspecting someone of reading her thoughts and broadcasting the apropos song. But she saw no one standing by the CD player beside the cash register. Maybe Santa really did know what people wanted.

Even though she and Johnny had been divorced for a year, she admitted the hasty decision had been a mistake. Since their chance meeting several months ago, it became more apparent each time they spent time together it was a decision she wished she could reverse. Was she too old to tell Santa that what she really wanted for Christmas was a reconciliation?

The sound of Johnny’s voice pulled her out of her contemplation. …I should buy a box of cookies for myself and eat them in the car.

I thought you had supper before you picked me up, she turned and said.

I did. But that was almost an hour ago. Besides, I left room for dessert. I’m determined to get something here. I’m starving. That one measly cookie you gave me was hardly enough to classify it as dessert. A handful would’ve been better.

Thanks for the compliment, but you’re always saying you’re trying to lose ten pounds. Not that you need to. Shifting her gaze to her ex-husband’s tall figure, she admired his physique. She mutely admitted, although his waist had thickened somewhat over time, he was still trim enough to be considered in good shape. A touch of gray in his brown hair gave him that distinguished look women seldom acquire as they grayed. Never mind that he was fifty-seven, he looked in better shape than most men she knew.

"That cookie—that one little cookie—was for the ride here, Rona. In addition to my postponed dessert, I’ll need another one for the ride back to your house. I thought you could get me some samples."

Not a chance. She