Christmas Cookie Mystery Read online

  Table of Contents

  ENDORSEMENTS

  BOOKS BY NAOMI MILLER

  GLOSSARY

  — ONE —

  Frosted Christmas Cookies

  — TWO —

  Ginger Snap Cookies

  — THREE —

  Irish Shortbread Cookies

  — FOUR —

  Pecan Drop Cookies

  — FIVE —

  Christmas Date Cookies

  — SIX —

  Gingerbread Cookies

  — SEVEN —

  Holiday Snickerdoodles

  — EIGHT —

  Christmas Fudge

  — NINE —

  Salted Caramel Peanut Butter Kisses

  — TEN —

  Festive Sugar Cookies

  — ELEVEN —

  Irish Gingerbread Cookies

  — TWELVE —

  Irish Salted Chocolate Cookies

  ENDORSEMENTS

  “I'm ready to pull up a chair in The Sweet Shop, savor a slice of cinnamon bread, and dig into this juicy mystery.”

  ~ Dana Mentink – multi published, award-winning author

  “Blueberry Cupcake Mystery” is a warm and cozy mystery just right for reading in one sitting. This short novella is sweet in more ways than one and will not only whet your appetite for a bit of mystery but might just tempt your taste buds with its descriptions of The Sweet Shop’s offerings.”

  ~ Vine Voice

  “A sweet, refreshing novella that will satisfy your sweet tooth as you weave your way through the crumbs to find the “whodunit”.”

  ~ Reviewer

  BOOKS BY NAOMI MILLER

  Blueberry Cupcake Mystery

  Christmas Cookie Mystery

  Lemon Tart Mystery

  (Summer 2017)

  Pumpkin Pie Mystery

  (Winter 2017)

  Christmas Cookie Mystery

  Copyright © 2016 by Naomi Miller

  ISBN: 978-0998169200 (Paperback)

  1. Fiction / Religion & Spirituality / Christian Books & Bibles / Christian Fiction. 2. Fiction / Mystery, Thriller & Suspense / Mystery / Cozy. 3. Fiction / Christian Books & Bibles / Literature & Fiction / Amish & Mennonite.

  S&G Publishing, Knoxville, TN

  www.sgpublish.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, without written permission of the publisher, except for brief quotations in printed reviews. Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible (KJV)

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental

  Cover design © Expresso Designs

  First Edition 2016

  To God be the Glory...

  A NOTE FROM NAOMI MILLER

  I love reading Amish fiction! I feel the Lord is calling me to write Amish fiction that is fun to read; free from the usual stress, anxiety, and other stomach-tightening reactions. Instead, I’m hoping to instill good feelings, good emotions, and good reactions.

  I have created fictional characters, in a fictional town. As with any work of fiction, I’ve taken license in some areas of research as a means of creating circumstances necessary to my characters or plot. Any inaccuracies in the Amish, Mennonite or English lifestyles portrayed in this book are completely due to fictional license.

  God bless you!

  ~Naomi

  GLOSSARY

  The German/Dutch dialect spoken by the Amish is not a written language. It is solely dependent on the location and origin of each settlement. The spellings below are approximations.

  allrecht = all right

  appeditlich = delicious

  bruder/bruders = brother/brothers

  buwe/buwes = boy/boys

  danki = thank you

  Dat = dad

  dochder = daughter

  du bischt daheem = you’re home

  Englischer = non-Amish person

  freind/freinden = friend/friends

  frau = wife

  froh = happy

  Gott = God

  hochmut = pride

  hungrich = hungry

  in lieb = in love

  jah = yes

  kaffe = coffee

  kinner = children

  kumme = come

  maedel/maedels = girl/girls

  Mamm = mom

  naerfich = nervous

  nee = no

  rumschpringe = running around time for youth

  schweschder/schweschders = sister/sisters

  verrickt = crazy

  wunderbaar = wonderful

  And she shall bring forth a son,

  and thou shall call his name JESUS:

  for he shall save his people from their sins.

  Matthew 1:21

  For Rachel

  — ONE —

  Katie Chupp felt more than a little guilty as she climbed the ladder . . .

  Dear Lord, please don’t let this be something I’ll regret. . . please allow gut to kumme from it. Let it be a blessing to someone.

  In all her seventeen years, she had never taken part in such an activity before, although she had been giving it a lot of thought for some time now. And if she was to be perfectly honest about it, she had wanted the chance to do something about it.

  Ach, what would Mamm think if she knew? Would she or Dat approve of what I’m doing right now? Or would they tell me to—

  “You’re looking awful nervous there, Katie. Are you certain you won’t get into all kinds of trouble?”

  Katie looked down at Travis Davis, who was holding her ladder steady. Travis had begun working at the Sweet Shop in July, after he returned home to find that his siblings had ransacked the bakery where Katie worked.

  After insisting that his brothers help to return the bakery to its’ pristine condition, Mrs. Simpkins had admonished them to never do such a thing again. Then she had insisted on giving Travis a part-time job at the bakery, until such time that he could find full-time work.

  Clearing his throat, he continued. “I don’t think your parents would approve. And you might even get in trouble with the church! I’m pretty sure those older dudes who make the rules your family has to follow would frown on this. They might throw you out of the church!” Travis looked troubled, as he held tightly to the ladder.

  “Ach, that is not going to happen, Travis. You worry too much. If someone from the community finds out, I can always blame it on my rumschpringe.” Katie said, stopping halfway up the ladder. She glanced down again at the handsome young man.

  Katie had caught herself looking at Travis on more than one occasion. She hadn’t shared with anyone—even her best freinden—how often he seemed to drift into her thoughts.

  So what if I like him! And so what if I find him cute . . . and exciting . . . and being with him makes me feel more than a wee bit dangerous. This is what my rumschpringe is for . . . to consider things outside the Ordnung, so that I can make a gut decision – an informed decision – based on what I really want. Everyone knows I will choose baptism. And that will be the end of it.

  Giving him a smile, she reached for the spray can, but Travis refused to let go. Pulling it just out of her reach, he tried again.

  “Katie, I’m serious. You don’t have to do this. Just think about the consequences. You could get in a lot of trouble. Mrs. Simpkins might be forced to fire you.”

  “Nee, Travis. I’ve never had an opportunity to do something like this before, and I refuse to let anything—or anyone—stop me. Now, hand me that spray can.”

  She added, with a smile, “You wouldn�
��t want to be responsible for allowing me to fall off this ladder, would you?”

  “Okay, okay. Here. Take it. But don’t blame me if something bad happens.”

  Katie giggled, as she shook the can. “Nee. I won’t be blaming you . . . unless you shake the ladder and ruin my work.”

  Turning back to the window, Katie concentrated on the almost-invisible lines she had drawn before Travis arrived with the supplies she had requested. She had asked Travis to buy the things she needed, knowing he would not draw any suspicion.

  “For sure and for certain, this may be the most fun I have ever had.” Leaning forward on the ladder, Katie began spraying the window near the top left corner. “And besides, who would be around to catch us? All the stores are closed now.”

  “I just wish I had thought to cover the windows on the outside with brown paper, so no one could see what we’re doing.” Travis looked around, as if he knew someone was watching them.

  “Stop worrying. We’ll be done soon and on our way home. Now take this, and hand me the green one.” Katie handed Travis the spray can she had been using. After she took the newly offered spray can, she began shaking it as vigorously as she had the first one. Then she leaned around the side of the ladder and began spraying short, straight lines of green paint all along a large section of the window.

  * * *

  It didn’t take as long as Katie had thought it would to finish it. Less than three hours later, Katie and Travis were carrying all the supplies to the back, where they stored them in an unused closet, which mostly held cleaning supplies.

  After Travis put the ladder back in it’s place, Katie found a spot on a nearby shelf for the spray paint cans. As she turned to leave, she noticed a paper bag on the lower shelf.

  “Have you noticed this bag before? Is it something you brought with you?”

  “I’ve never seen it before,” replied Travis. “I wonder if it had supplies that you could have used on the window.”

  Katie pulled the bag out, where she could see into it.

  “Ach! What is this doing here?”

  “What is it? Can I see?”

  Katie knew she had to say something, but she wasn’t sure if this was something Travis should be told. “I am thinking that Mrs. Simpkins has hidden something in here that she’s purchased for a Christmas gift. To be honest, I didn’t expect to find something like this hidden at the back of the shelf. For sure, she must have some secret plans for it. Please don’t say anything to the others.”

  “Don’t worry! I won’t say anything about it.” As he peeked into the bag, Katie saw his eyes widen and a whistle escaped his lips. “Oh man, I did not expect that!”

  Katie rushed to speak. “I just know there’s a gut reason for it. I cannot imagine Mrs. Simpkins buying this for herself.”

  “I think you’re right about it being a Christmas gift for someone. Put it back where you found it. Then I’ll drive you home. There’s no need for you to call for a ride.”

  Before she could answer, Travis leaned forward and put his arms around her. As he pulled her close in a hug, it made her feel wunderbaar—but she knew her mamm and dat would not approve. After a minute, she pulled away from him.

  When he smiled at her, Katie’s heart seemed to soar. Her legs felt shaky as she felt the heat rush into her cheeks. This might not be the first time she had been attracted to this young man, but she was smart enough to know her feelings for him were changing.

  There was only one problem. . . Travis was an Englischer.

  Dear Lord, don’t let me make a mistake—or give Travis the wrong idea. Please help me to know what to do about this new development. . .

  On the First Day of Christmas . . .

  Frosted Christmas Cookies

  Cookie Ingredients:

  1 1/2 cups sugar

  1 1/2 cups butter

  1 3/4 cups shortening

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  1 tsp pure vanilla extract

  1 tsp pure almond extract

  1 large egg

  8 1/2 cups plain flour

  Frosting Ingredients:

  2 cups confectioner's sugar

  1/2 teaspoon pure almond extract

  pinch of salt

  3-4 tablespoons milk

  Instructions:

  1. Mix together sugar, butter, shortening, salt and vanilla until smooth and creamy

  2. Add egg. Mix together, scraping sides of bowl

  3. Add flour, mixing only long enough to combine

  4. Divide dough into several balls, each the size of a baseball

  5. Wrap dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate until dough is chilled

  6. Form each ball into a long roll, 1inch in diameter

  7. Refrigerate wrapped dough again until cold.

  8. When ready, remove a roll from the refrigerator and cut into 1/2" thick slices. Place cut side up on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Make indentation in center of each cookie to hold spot of icing

  9. Bake at 350° about 8-10 minutes, until edges begin to slightly turn golden brown

  10. Cool completely on the baking sheet

  Frosting Instructions:

  1. Mix together sugar, almond extract, salt and milk

  2. Continue to add milk 1 tablespoon at a time until icing is desired consistency

  3. Dab a small bit of frosting into each indentation

  — TWO —

  “Katie, are you smelling your hands again? I told you to stop worrying about it.”

  “I can’t seem to help it. I didn’t know I would end up with the smell of paint on me. I guess I should have used the plastic gloves we use in the bakery when we’re handling the food. Even after washing my hands twice, I can still smell the paint.”

  Katie sniffed her hands again, before looking over at Travis, only to find him watching her. They both started laughing.

  After they had finished putting everything away and locked up, Katie had planned to call Mr. Baker, her family’s usual driver, but Travis had insisted on taking her home.

  “Danki, Travis, for driving me home. I didn’t mean to act like I didn’t want you to drive me home. ”

  “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have insisted on it. I’m still practically a stranger.”

  “But you’re also my freind. Danki for understanding—and for your forgiveness.” Katie smiled, and then suddenly reached up with her hand to smack her head. “Ach, I forgot to ask you about your family. How is your mamm doing? Is everything going well for her now?”

  “Yes, everyone is doing well. Mom’s recovery might be slow, but she is recovering.” Travis glanced over at Katie, then back at the road.

  “I want to talk about the window. I think anyone who sees it will be amazed. You have a real talent for art." He shook his head at his own comment and Katie wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but held her tongue.

  Is it really so ridiculous that a plain girl could be talented with a can of spray paint?

  She nearly giggled at the picture that formed in her mind. “Isn’t that what Englischers consider ‘tagging’?”

  “Nope, definitely not. Tagging is when someone sneaks and paints a picture—or a message—on a wall for everyone to see.”

  “And isn’t that just what I did tonight?” Katie giggled again.

  “No. It’s not the same. Mrs. Simpkins will love it.” Travis signaled a left turn and slowed almost to a stop, before turning onto the familiar dirt road. “On the other hand, I still think you could get into trouble if anyone from your church finds out it was you who did it.”

  Glancing over at Katie, he grinned. “And stop smelling your hands! If you don’t stop, you’ll give it away. Everyone will know it was you!”

  Katie tucked her hands under her legs. With a giggle, she sat back and tried to calm her fluttering heart. Whether it was the activity at the bakery, or the company—or both—she felt more than a little reckless tonight.

  Is this wrong, Gott? Am I straying too far from the way I was brought up? Wo
uld Mamm and Dat be ashamed of me? Is it wrong to have feelings for Travis? He’s my freind. He’s just my freind. Nothing more . . .

  * * *

  Katie asked Travis to let her out at a side road near her home, knowing if she cut across the field, she could make it home in time for dinner. Although she had been careful to wash them not just once, but twice, she thought she could still detect the strange odor on her fingers.

  Of course, no one at home would probably notice. And if anyone did, she could say it was from working on a surprise for Christmas. Even her mamm and dat would usually not require further explanations when this excuse was used.

  As she walked along, she looked around their farm. Although hochmut was something the preachers spoke against, Katie always felt something akin to it whenever she thought of her home and everything her dat had worked hard to accomplish.

  Caleb Chupp was a gut man, who was respected and admired by most all the families in Abbott Creek. Caleb taught his children to love the Lord and put others first, something the Englisch community had turned into an acronym. As if a person needed to use the word ‘JOY’ to remind themselves to put Jesus first, others second, and yourself last.

  The Chupp farm was neat, clean, and appeared prosperous. Katie’s dat and elder bruder Ervin worked hard from sunup to sundown. Katie's other bruders, Noah and Caleb might be younger than her, but they were expected to do their share of chores.

  Noah also worked as an apprentice in town for a local craftsman, Samuel Miller, who made buggies for plain folk, and even some Englischers.

  Caleb had two more years of school, so he had fewer chores to do. Morning chores had to be done before breakfast. After school, he was diligent to change back into his choring clothes and head outside to finish up before suppertime.

  Katie caught sight of her dat coming out of the barn, and ran over to meet him. She laughed as he swatted at her with his straw hat.

  “Katie-girl, did you kumme to help with the choring? If you did, you should have kumme sooner. The buwes have already finished and are washing up for supper.”

  “Nee, I stayed late to work on something for Mrs. Simpkins. I’m just now getting home. I thought I might walk back to the house with you.”