Murder over Macaroons

By Kay Harris

Hayley Cutter spent five years building a successful cookie business in the quaint village of Sausalito and even longer pining for the local chief of police. But her dreams are dashed by a ruthless businessman determined to put her out of business right before Christmas. Then her rival ends up dead, poisoned by Hayley's specialty gluten-free macaroon.
As all eyes turn toward Hayley as the prime suspect in the murder, Sausalito Police Chief Peter Merritt finds himself in a sticky situation. What will he do when the woman he's been secretly in love with for years ends up out of the bakery and in the interrogation room?

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Dec 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781509238972

Kay Harris

Kay Harris has had a diverse career with jobs ranging from college professor to park ranger. Now she adds author to her repertoire. Kay writes romance novels that contain a little bit of sweet, a dash of sexy, a touch of heartbreak, and a whole lot of fun! Kay grew up in the Midwest and has since lived all over the western United States including Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and California. She loves to hike, is obsessed with museums, and enjoys taking her extremely tall and very handsome husband on adventures.

Book preview

Conversations usually flowed through them like the smoothest river. Even when something was happening in town that Peter couldn’t talk about, they bounced around the subject with ease as she attempted to tease out the truth, and he successfully resisted her efforts. Joshua and her mother had both claimed that it looked a hell of lot like flirting. But they didn’t understand, she and Peter were just friends no matter what Hayley might want deep down inside.

All of that easy conversation was gone now, though. Each breath was thick with tension. Eyes boring into each other, Hayley felt herself squirm. Crazy day, huh?

Yeah. So, um. We need to go downtown, Hayley.

What? Like to the police station?

Yeah.

Like for an interview?

Peter nodded brusquely.

What could I possibly know? I was with you when we heard the scream.

Peter rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Yeah. I know. But, um, we have to talk.

Hayley laughed. Am I under arrest or something?

Peter’s face was intensely serious as he said, Not yet.

Murder over Macaroons

By

Kay Harris

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.

Murder over Macaroons

COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Kay Harris

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 Kristian Norris

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 978-1-5092-3897-2

Christmas Cookies Series

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To Benna, my Gluten Detection Service Dog. She keeps my Celiac Disease in check. Love you, girl!

Chapter 1

I’ll kill him! Haley slammed her hand on the counter and catapulted a cloud of fine, cream-colored almond flour.

I don’t think that’s the wisest idea. Joshua pressed his hip against the granite beside her and waved his hand in front of his face in an attempt to clear the air between them. I mean, where would we hide the body?

Since Joshua’s obsession with true crime podcasts was nearly as great as her own, Haley really couldn’t argue the point. There weren’t a lot of good places to hide a body in Sausalito. It was a small town, packed onto a hillside…unless. The Bay of course. We dump the body in the Bay. Duh?

Joshua’s deep brown eyes shifted toward the east wall of the restaurant, the one closest to the neighboring shop recently purchased by the diabolical Dan Springs. Have you seen that dude? He weighs three hundred pounds easy. Me and you? He pointed to his own long and very lean structure followed by her very short and not so lean build. We couldn’t get it done. And we can’t be getting help in this town. People talk.

Haley went back to working her dough, plunging her hands into the massive bowl and turning the ingredients. She truly believed the best way to make food was with her own hands. It also helped with the anger, like a built-in stress reliever. No, really. What should we do?

Since the fantasy of the perfect murder was no more than that, they had to get back to business. Two months ago, Dan Springs had rolled into town high on the idea of cornering the specialty cookie market in the small tourist town. It might have been a good idea, taking advantage of a lucrative location. Perfect for a small bakery, the main street of the quaint village perched on the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge. Better still, he opened up just in time for the holidays. The crisp scent of ocean air kept the California weather just perfect this time of year. Saccharine decorations like cherub-faced Santas and reindeer made of garland lined the main street, which was flanked on one side by little boutique shops and on the other by a marina filled with boats bobbing in the waves of San Francisco Bay.

It was a great idea. One Hayley had when she was eight years old. One she’d busted her ass to make happen. One she’d realized when she’d opened up Cutter’s Cookies five years ago. So it seemed completely unreasonable that a retired San Francisco lawyer should show up and try to steal her business right before Christmas. The whole thing was infuriating.

Joshua dipped his finger in the almond flour dusting the counter and swirled it around to make a little pattern on the granite. Look. We already have the locals. They will come here. They won’t bother with this guy.

Hayley pushed harder on the dough; the bowl clinked against the counter with the force of her anger. That’s great. But you and I both know it’s the tourist traffic that keeps the lights on.

Look. Forget that guy. No one’s going to want his contaminated cookies. We don’t even know if he can actually bake. And besides, our sign is better.

Hayley smiled at the thought of the pink and blue sign hanging on an old-fashioned wrought-iron post outside the shop. Not only was she in love with the sign, but she was…fond of the person who made it.

"I hope you’re right, Joshie.