Scrappy Summer

Book 0: Cumberland Creek Mystery

by Mollie Cox Bryan

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Cozy Mystery; Female Sleuths

Synopsis

Summer's in full swing, and it's time once again for the Cumberland Creek County Fair Pie Competition. DeeAnn Fields just knows this is her year to finally win with her brilliant apple green chili pie. But after the judges take one bite and spit it back out, ordering DeeAnn to leave at once, she's baffled as to what went wrong. . .until she discovers someone sabotaged her pie. Banding together to find out who hated DeeAnn enough to ruin her chances of winning, the ladies of the Cumberland Scrapbook Crop scrap their summer plans to get to the bottom of this mystery so that they can return to what they do best--cropping and crafting! Praise for the Cumberland Creek Mysteries: "A satisfying and surprising read." --Sheila Connolly, New York Times bestselling author on Scrapped "Though-provoking and well paced. . .A great story, well told!" --Juliet Blackwell, New York Times bestselling author on Scrapped "Crafty cozy. . .introduces some dandy characters that will spin off well as the series unfolds." -- Library Journal on Scrapbook of Secrets "A font of ingenuity. . .superb entertainment." -- Mystery Scene magazine on Scrapbook of Secrets Includes tips and a glossary of terms for the modern scrapbooker! 16,000 Words

Release date: May 27, 2014

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 57

Sample

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the forty-fifth annual Cumberland Creek County Fair Pie Competition,” said Elsie Miller, who stood behind the table.

DeeAnn was cool. She wasn’t worried at all. Her pie was brilliant. It was a delicious, modern twist on an old classic. How could it go wrong? The first part of the contest was just simply watching the judges taste the pies and listening for their reactions. Then they reconvened and announced the winners later in the week, on closing night.

“This first pie is a French silk coconut cream pie made by Macy Freed,” said the head judge, and they all dipped in with their forks, taking morsels of the deep brown, creamy pie. They each took only one bite. From their expressions, the pie was good but not astounding. They sat nodding and smiling politely. She knew those smiles.

DeeAnn had been watching this same group of judges for years. Her eyes found Macy glaring at her. What? Why? What had she ever done to Macy? True, she hadn’t given her that job, but Macy would never have worked out at her bakery. DeeAnn was heading in a hip vegan direction with much of her business, and Macy was not interested. And didn’t even want to learn. That said a lot about her.

A twinge of guilt poked at DeeAnn. She knew the family needed the money. But her decision was a business decision and nothing personal. Still, she could see that Macy might have been taking it very personally.

Her husband elbowed her, and when she looked at him, he grinned. “You’re next?”

She shrugged, Macy’s look of hatred etched in her brain. DeeAnn wanted to be liked. She knew that not everybody could like her, but still it hurt when someone was blatant.

“Next, we have a twist on an apple pie.” DeeAnn’s heart lurched. “Apples and Hearts is the name of the recipe,” said the judge.

DeeAnn wanted to gag. That was not much of a twist—everybody knew about it. You just added red cinnamon hearts to the recipe, and voilà. But it was surprising to hear it was Rachel Burkholder who had entered it. Was she finally losing her touch?

DeeAnn allowed herself even more hope—she figured Rachel was her biggest competition, but not with a recipe like that.

The judges took their bites, made their notes, and moved on. More nods and smiles. Next up was her pie. She was certain. Beads of sweat pricked at her forehead. Her husband, Jacob’s arm went around her.

“Next, we have an entry from DeeAnn Fields, an apple–green chili pie with cheddar and walnut crust,” said the judge, nodding in DeeAnn’s direction with a smile. Oohs and aahs from the crowd.

This could be it, DeeAnn thought. This could be my moment. At last!

The judges took their forks, plowed into the pie, and almost in unison brought their forks to their mouths. DeeAnn felt as if she had stopped breathing. She also felt as if everybody was watching her. Jacob rubbed her shoulder.

She wanted to scream and run and dance around the hall. That was her pie. She thought it was the best one on the table.

“Ackkk!” one of the judges said, spitting it out. Another judge tore up and off the platform, heading straight for the bathroom, but she didn’t quite make it, spitting the bite of pie all over the floor. The remaining judges were in a state of disarray. Red-faced. Spitting. Downing water.

“What? What happened?” DeeAnn stood.

“You tell us, DeeAnn. Take this ridiculous pie and leave,” said Elsie.

“What? I don’t understand. . . .” DeeAnn felt as if she were in the middle of one of those dreams where all of a sudden you were not wearing any clothes. Yes, she felt naked. But something in her forced her to . . .