designing all of Hannah’s incredibly gorgeous dust jackets
and paperback covers.
Thanks to John at Placed4Success.com for
Hannah’s movie and TV spots, and for handling
my social media.
Thanks to Kathy Allen for the final testing of
Hannah’s recipes.
Thank you to Sally Hayes (and Gary, too) for
sharing wonderful recipes.
And a big hug to my friend Trudi Nash for
helping me on book tours.
Thanks also to all the wonderful media guides in
the cities I’ve visited. Without all of you I’d be totally
lost, both figuratively and literally.
Hugs to superb food stylist Lois Brown, for making
my recipes look scrumptious in Phoenix. And thanks to
my Chicago food stylist, Judy Krug, for keeping that
frozen yogurt frozen.
Thank you to Dr. Rahhal, Dr. and Kathy Line,
and Dr. Wallen.
Thanks to Jamie Wallace for keeping my Web site,
MurderSheBaked.com
up to date and looking great.
And many thanks to all the readers who love Hannah almost as much as I do. I just wish that I had the time to test every single one of the great family recipes you send.
Chapter One
“The only problem with leaving four car lengths in front of you is that four cars come in to fill up the space!” Hannah Swensen complained to her sister Michelle, who was riding in the passenger seat of her cookie truck. “I’m going forty. Do you think that’s too slow?”
“Absolutely not. It’s nasty out there, and anybody who drives faster than forty on a night like this is crazy.”
“Or they come from other states and they don’t know anything about winter driving in Minnesota. I think I’ll pull over as far as I can and let that whole herd of cars behind me pass.”
“Good idea.”
Hannah signaled and moved over as far as she could to encourage the other drivers to pass her. They probably thought she was being too cautious, but a thin film of water glistened on the asphalt surface of the highway, and the temperature was dropping fast. The water would turn into slick ice in a matter of minutes and there was no way Hannah wanted to sail off into the ditch and land in the mud that was just beginning to refreeze from the afternoon thaw.
Some people said that Minnesota had two seasons; Shovel and Swat. Hannah knew that wasn’t the case. The land of the frozen north had four seasons—Fishing Season, Duck Season, Deer Season, and Mud Season. This was the first Thursday in April and Lake Eden was having the worst Mud Season on record. In the past three days, Earl Flensburg had used his Winnetka County tow truck to pull eighteen vehicles out of the muddy ditches. This number included Hannah’s cookie truck. Twice.
The current road conditions had been brought about by an extremely snowy winter that had yielded a record number of inches. Then, just last week, the days had turned warm with temperatures approaching a positively balmy fifty degrees. This unseasonably warm snap had melted the banks of hard-packed snow that lined the sides of the roads and had turned the shoulders into mud pits. To compound the problem the nights, like tonight, were cold enough to refreeze the water from the afternoon runoff, but the mud in the ditches took much longer to refreeze. Hapless motorists on the highways skidded on the icy film. If they were lucky, they simply ended up in the ditch in need of a tow truck. If they were unlucky, they sideswiped several other cars, resulting in multiple injuries. Warnings about the hazardous road conditions filled the KCOW-TV evening news, but some drivers seemed perfectly oblivious. Until the weather evened out, one way or the other, accidents on the highway would continue to be more common than lost mittens.
Hannah gripped the wheel tightly. Road conditions would improve once they turned onto the gravel road that led to the Lake Eden Inn, but they still had over five miles to go on asphalt that resembled nothing so much as an improperly frozen hockey rink.
The two sisters rode in silence for several minutes and then Hannah glanced over at her sister. There was a smile on Michelle’s face and Hannah assumed that she was thinking about Lonnie Murphy, the youngest member of the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department detective squad. They were on their way to meet Lonnie and his cousin, Devin, at the Lake Eden Inn. There they’d enjoy a preview of Sally and Dick Laughlin’s first-ever weekend jazz festival by listening to the headliner band, the Cinnamon Roll Six, rehearse for their performance the following night. When the rehearsal was over, the Swensen sisters would help Sally serve Hannah’s Special Cinnamon Rolls to the small crowd that had been invited to the musical sneak-peek.
The cinnamon rolls smelled wonderful and Hannah’s stomach growled. She hadn’t taken time for lunch, and she did her best to resist an almost overwhelming urge to reach in the back and snag one for herself. Only the fact that she had to keep both hands on the wheel kept her from indulging that urge. They’d taken the sweet treats out of the oven at The Cookie Jar less than thirty minutes ago, frosted them, and covered the pans with foil. Then they’d secured them in the back of the cookie truck and headed for the highway. Now the interior was filled with the mouthwatering scents of warm bread, cinnamon, and chocolate, and Hannah was getting more ravenous by the minute.
Michelle gave a wistful sigh. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. Those rolls smell
