The Chocolate Mouse Trap

Table of Contents

 

 

“A JoAnna Carl mystery will be a winner. The trivia and vivid descriptions of the luscious confections are enough to make you hunger for more!”

—Roundtable Reviews

 

“Delicious.”

—Cluesunlimited

 

“A fast-paced, light read, full of chocolate facts and delectable treats. Lee is an endearing heroine.... Readers will enjoy the time they spend with Lee and Joe in Warner Pier and will look forward to returning for more murder dipped in chocolate.”

—The Mystery Reader

 

“The descriptions of the chocolates are enough to make your mouth water, so be prepared.... Once again, I enjoyed each page of the book and am already looking forward to my next visit to Warner Pier, Michigan.”

—Review Index

 

“Do not read
The Chocolate Bear Burglary
on an empty stomach because the luscious . . . descriptions of exotic chocolate will have you running out to buy gourmet sweets . . . a delectable treat.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“[Carl] teases with descriptions of mouthwatering bonbons and truffles while she drops clues.... [Lee is] vulnerable and real, endearingly defective.... Fast-paced and sprinkled with humor. Strongly recommended.”

—I Love a Mystery

 

“Kept me entertained to the very last word . . . a great new sleuth.... Interesting facts about chocolate.... a delicious new series.”

—
Romantic Times

“A mouthwatering debut and a delicious new series! Feisty young heroine Lee McKinney is a delight in this chocolate treat. A real page-turner, and I got chocolate on every one! I can’t wait for the next.”

—Tamar Myers

 

“As delectable as a rich chocolate truffle and the mystery filling satisfies to the last prized morsel. Lee McKinney sells chocolates and solves crimes with panache and good humor. More, please. And I’ll take one of those dark chocolate oval bonbons. . . .”

—Carolyn Hart

 

“One will gain weight just from reading [this].... Delicious . . . the beginning of what looks like a terrific new cozy series.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“Enjoyable . . . entertaining . . . a fast-paced whodunit with lots of suspects and plenty of surprises . . . satisfies a passion for anything chocolate. In the fine tradition of Diane Mott Davidson.”

—
The Commercial Record
(MI)

Also by JoAnna Carl

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First published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library,
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First Printing, September 2005

Copyright © Eve K. Sandstrom, 2005 All rights reserved

 

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ISBN : 978-1-101-56376-2

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As ever, I owe many thanks to Morgen Chocolate in Dallas and the great staff there—especially my daughter, Betsy Peters. I also received help from Michigan friends and neighbors Susan McDermott, Tracy Paquin, and Bonnie Miller. Computer advice came from Joe Diaz and John Hornbeck, and literary information came from Dr. John Morris.

“
I
’m sick and tired of killing this stupid inspirational junk,” I said. “If Julie Singletree doesn’t stop sending it, I’m going to kill her, as well as her messages.”

I’d been talking to myself, but when I raised my eyes from the computer screen, I realized I was also snarling at Aunt Nettie. She had nothing to do with the e-mail that had been driving me crazy, but she had innocently walked into my office, making herself a handy target for a glare.

Aunt Nettie smiled placidly; she’d understood that I was mad at my e-mail, not her. “Are you talking about that silly girl who’s trying to be a party planner?”

“Yes. I know she got us that big order for the chocolate mice, but I’m beginning to think the business she could throw our way can’t be worth the nausea brought on by these daily doses of Victorian sentiment.”

Aunt Nettie settled her solid Dutch figure into a chair and adjusted the white food-service hairnet that covered her hair—blond, streaked with gray. I don’t know how she works with chocolate all day long and keeps her white tunic and pants so sparkling clean.

“Victorian sentiment isn’t your style, Lee,” she said.

“Julie is sending six of us half a dozen messages every day, and I am not interested in her childish view of life. She alternates between ain’t-life-grand and ain’t-life-a-bitch, but both versions are coated with silly sugar. She never has anything clever or witty. Just dumb.”

“Why haven’t you asked to be taken off her list?”

I sighed and reached into my top desk drawer to raid my stash for a Bailey’s Irish Cream bonbon (“Classic cream liqueur interior in dark chocolate”). I’d worked for TenHuis Chocolade for more than two years, but I wasn’t at all tired of our products, described on our stationery as “Handmade chocolates in the Dutch tradition.” When you’re hassled by minor annoyances, such as e-mail, nothing soothes the troubled mind like a dose of chocolate.

Aunt Nettie was waiting for an answer, and I was hard put to find one. “I suppose I kept thinking that if I didn’t respond she’d simply drop me from her jokes and junk list,” I said.

“You didn’t even want to tell her you don’t want to receive any more spam?”

“Oh, it’s not spam. She’s made up a little list of us—it’s all west Michigan people connected with the fine foods and parties trade. Lindy’s on it, thanks to her new job in catering. There’s Jason Foster—you know, he’s got the contract for the new restaurant at Warner Point. There’s Carolyn Rose, at House of Roses—she carries a line of gourmet items. Margaret Van Meter from Holland—the cake decorating gal. And the Denhams, at Hideaway Inn. We’re all on the list. And since we all deal in fancy foods, Julie has named us the ‘Seventh Major Food Group.’ You know—grains, dairy, vegetables, fruit, meat, fats, and party food.”

“It
is
a funny name.”

“It’s the only witty idea Julie ever had.” I gestured toward the screen. “This message is typical. ‘A Prayer for the Working Woman.’ I haven’t read it, but I already know what it says.”

“What?” Aunt Nettie smiled. “Since I’ve worked all my life, I might benefit from a little prayer.”

“I can make you a printout, if you can stand the grossly lush roses Julie uses as a border.” I punched the appropriate keys as I talked. “I predict it will be about how downtrodden women are today because most of us work.”