Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder Novels & Stories

Her hands tightened around the case files, the paper crumpling beneath her grip. Was Damian Voss a suspect? Or was he something worse? Evelyn leaned back in her chair, rubbing her head, the weight of the evidence pressing down on her. It wasn’t enough to make an arrest, but it all pointed in one direction—Damian Voss. Billionaire. Businessman. Untouchable. And somehow, connected to these murders. Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise—something shifting outside her window. Evelyn tensed, reaching for her gun. She lived on the fourth floor. No one should be out there.

The real murderer could never get away with it, or even gain any profit from it. "Valery, stop messing up. She did it. Sophia have seen it with her own eyes." Mary said in a hurry. In fact, she was aware that it wasn't Hazel who had done it. The loophole was too obvious. She wasn't a fool. She just used her to get rid of Hazel. As for who was the real murderer, they'd better stop looking into it. "The chicken soup was cooked by Sophia. I thought she should have been suspicious. Why should we have to believe her?" Valery continued with a sneer.

I nod my head, because I believe false gestures are less cruel than false words. "Just be honest," she pleads. No. No way. I'm leaning against the kitchen jamb, meanwhile, Angelic is behind the counter, in front of the stove. In my right hand is something she just cooked. Angelic said they were chocolate chip cookies. She said they were Christmas cookies. But honestly, I still haven't found the taste of chocolate, just burnt dough and sadness. This is really bad. In fact, bad is an understatement. It's a disgrace.

"V, I'm a hacker, not Martha Stewart. Fine... searching... okay. Ultimate Revenge Chocolate Chip Cookies. High sugar, high butter, low room for error. I’m projecting the ingredients onto your contact lens now." I moved with a frantic, focused energy. Flour, sugar, butter. I slammed the ingredients onto the marble island. Mia stood by the door, arms crossed, looking like a miniature version of a courtroom judge. "You're doing it wrong," she said after five minutes. "The butter has to be soft. You’re hitting it like you want to kill it." "Maybe I do," I grunted, grabbing a wooden spoon and attacking the bowl. I felt the sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. My blouse was sticking to my back,

I sounded extremely serious. “It was your brother, Cole. I invited him over for questioning because I was sick of all this drama that keeps draining you. After our meeting, Chole fell for his charms the same way he fell for your dad’s the first day they met. In their chit chat, Chole requested for a cake and he offered to make it for her. I was there, I watched him do the whole process and it came out delicious. It wasn’t poisoned. If it was, I would be dead too” he poured out without break.

I was really curious to know what. “Well, I’m not much of a cook either, but if operation taught me anything, it’s I have a gentle touch,” she tells me, smiling as I arch a brow, looking away from our rivals. “Oh yeah, when did you play that?” I ask as we weigh out the flour and butter. We wanted to spread our bets and make 3 different types of cookies. Chocolate chip, the classic, red velvet our showstopper and tiramisu cookie our rogue. Surely one of them would come out right. “When I was in the hospital Gabriel didn’t want me to get bored but truthfully, I think he was just hiding from his pack,” she laughs and I join in too.

When it’s time for the judge to call on the chef to state his claim, the chef sings a different tune again. "I was forced to lie by Ms. Hazel and Mr. Marius Thorne," he says. "It’s not Mr. Pierce Thorne who attempted to kill Mr. Albert Montgomery. It’s Mr. Marius Thorne." My heart sinks, while Marius’ face falls hard. Not only that this lowers our chances of putting Pierce behind bars, but this will also intensify the hate towards us. When the hearing is over, I quickly follow the chef to demand an explanation, and find him in an empty hallway, talking to someone I don’t recognize.

I needed to know if something had gone wrong with my brother or any of my friends, if not them all. "Tonight," The guard replied. "According to Gus, she ate a packet of cookies she left on a table and began convulsing and they think her friend is the one who might have poisoned her as they had an argument this morning and she went to visit her for an apology. Her mother handed her a packet of cookies. She usually does that but this time, it wasn't eaten by her,"

When I finally got everything, I hastily pushed him towards the chair and he fell back as I leaned closer to him. This isn’t my fault, is it? He’s not gonna die, right? I mean, I’ve seen many people die because of me but I totally did not want to kill this man? I mean not until earlier, though I did have some murder intent. He simply stared at me as I start to wipe away the blood that was running down his chin to his neck. His white buttoned up polo might get stained! “Did you eat something bad? Goodness. I knew it was those cookies given to you by those dirty little attendants.” I hissed as I wipe down his chin.

I’ve made zucchini pasta and mashed garlic potatoes. “What would you like to watch?” I asked him. He looked at me for a brief second before shrugging off his shoulder. “I’m going to put some crime documentary then.” I warned him to which he just nodded. We ate the dinner in comfortable silence, watching the documentary. It was about a serial killer who kills just because he thinks that people are annoying when they laugh. And then later he was caught because he heard himself laughing in public and decided to turn himself to cops, realizing that he doesn’t have enough guts to kill himself.