Death by the Dozen

Table of Contents

 

 

“A tender cozy full of warm and likable characters and a refreshingly sympathetic murder victim. Readers will look forward to more of McKinlay’s tasty concoctions.”

—
Publishers Weekly
(starred review)

 

“McKinlay’s debut mystery flows as smoothly as Melanie Cooper’s buttercream frosting. Her characters are delicious, and the dash of romance is just the icing on the cake.”

—Sheila Connolly, author of
Bitter Harvest

 

“Jenn McKinlay delivers all the ingredients for a winning read. Frost me another!”

—Cleo Coyle, national bestselling author of
the Coffeehouse Mysteries

 

“A delicious new series featuring a spirited heroine, luscious cupcakes, and a clever murder. Jenn McKinlay has baked a sweet read.”

—Krista Davis, author of the Domestic Diva Mysteries

 

SPRINKLE WITH MURDER
BUTTERCREAM BUMP OFF
DEATH BY THE DOZEN

 

 

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are 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. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

 

DEATH BY THE DOZEN

 

A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

 

PRINTING HISTORY

 

Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / October 2011

Copyright © 2011 by Jennifer McKinlay Orf.

Excerpt from
Red Velvet Revenge
by Jenn McKinlay copyright © by Jennifer McKinlay Orf.

 

All rights reserved.

 

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

ISBN : 978-1-101-54470-9

 

BERKLEY
^®
PRIME CRIME

Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

BERKLEY
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PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

 

For my brother Jon ( Jed) McKinlay.
Thanks for never letting me quit.
I love you forever.

Big, fluffy cupcakes to my agent, Jessica Faust; my editor, Kate Seaver; and her assistant editor, Katherine Pelz. I couldn’t do this without all of you.

More cupcakes to Tori and Brad Niemiec for entering the contest at the annual Scottsdale Cupcake Love In to win a walk-on part in this book. Have fun finding yourself, Tori! Special thanks to Tree and Susie Matazzoni for hooking me up with the Love In and to Sheila Levine for going halfsies with me on all of those cupcakes! Next year we don’t start with the mini Bundts!

A big thank-you to Kelly Garcia of Butter & Me (she doesn’t need any cupcakes) for being so gracious in answering my cupcake questions and for baking some seriously spectacular cupcakes for my book signings!

And lastly, but with sprinkles on top, extra yummy cupcakes to all of the McKinlays and the Orfs, and especially to my dudes Chris, Beckett, and Wyatt, the best sous-chefs and hug givers a girl could ever have!

“Fifteen minutes!” Angie DeLaura yelled. “ We have to turn the registration form in by ten o’clock or we’re locked out of the competition.”

Melanie Cooper scrambled into her tiny office with Angie hot on her heels. Paperwork was scattered all over the top of her desk. There was a reason she was a cupcake baker and not a bookkeeper. She did much better with her pantry organization than her file cabinet.

She ran a hand through her short blonde hair in exasperation.

“I know I put it here,” she said. “Why didn’t I turn it in last week like I planned?”

“Because you had a hot date with my brother,” Angie said. “And you forgot.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mel said. She couldn’t stop the silly grin that spread across her face as she remembered her romantic evening with Joe DeLaura. A heavy sigh escaped her, and Angie snapped her fingers in front of Mel’s face and said, “Snap out of it!”

Mel shook her head, trying to regain her focus.

“You start on that side of the desk, and I’ll start on this side,” Angie ordered as she dug into a stack of cookware catalogs.

Mel shuffled through a pile of flyers advertising Fairy Tale Cupcakes’ unique flavors and special-occasion cupcake tiers. Sure enough, stuck by a smear of royal frosting to the back of the flyers was their registration form for the Scottsdale Food Festival. “I found it!”

Angie glanced at her watch. “We have twelve minutes.”

“We’d better run,” Mel said.

Together they bolted through the kitchen and the bakery. Mel turned and locked the front door behind them. Then they pounded down the sidewalk of Old Town Scottsdale, passed a Western-wear store, a Mexican import store, a jewelry store, and around the corner they passed a tattoo parlor and a hair salon.

Mick, the owner of the tattoo parlor, stepped outside as they whizzed by. At six foot four with a shaved head and covered in ink, he was fairly intimidating, but Mel and Angie knew he was a big old softie, who had a weakness for Mel’s Moonlight Madness coconut cupcakes.

“Where’s the fire?” he called after them.

Angie opened her mouth to retort, but Mel grabbed her arm and kept running. “No time! Chat later.”

They hit the entrance to the Civic Center Mall and had to dodge an elderly couple, who stood admiring the bronze sculpture of three horses running entitled
The Yearlings
. Mel loved the sculpture, too, but this was not the time to stop to admire it.

They had to turn their registration form into the Scottsdale Art Association office, which was housed in one of the small buildings that encircled the many fountains and sculptures that made up the Civic Center Mall. The mall, a large twenty-one-acre park, was one of Mel’s favorite spots in the city. She frequently walked to the library on the opposite side just to enjoy the lush flowers, trickling fountains, and beautiful public art that filled the meticulously tended area.

A small group of tourists blocked the path ahead as they admired a short fountain that formed a ball of water. Mel followed Angie as she cut around them and onto the grass. Like track stars, they jumped over the narrow stream that fed a larger fountain, and they raced down the slope farther into the park.

Mel could feel a stitch cramping her side, and she was wheezing just a bit as Angie skidded to a stop in front of the darkened glass doors of an office building.

“What office do we need?” Angie asked.

Mel glanced at the papers in her hand. “Twelve-B.”

“Second floor,” Angie said. She glanced at her watch. “Seven minutes.”

Mel suppressed a groan as they pulled open the doors and hit the stairs on the right. They wound up in a tight turn. Mel jogged up the steps, breathing hard, when she slammed into Angie’s back.

“Ow!” She grabbed the rail to keep from falling backwards and glanced up to see why Angie had stopped.

Blocking the way upstairs in a fair imitation of a brick wall was Olivia Puckett, owner of the rival bakery, Confections, and Mel’s own personal pain in the patoot.

“Step aside,” Angie growled.

Olivia spread her beefy arms wide. “Make me.”

Angie took a step forward as if she would do just that, but Mel grabbed her arm and held her back. Angie was known for being a bit of a firecracker, and Mel didn’t want her sending off any sparks here.