Brownies, Bodies, and Breaking The Code (paperback)

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ISBN Digital: 978-1-61217-485-3
ISBN Print: 978-1-60154-078-2
Page Count: 216
Word Count: 0

(MSRP: 11.9900)

Also available in digital formats

Jessie Patrokus has all the qualities that make a great software tester ? she's diligent, she's curious and she doesn't give up. Those are just the qualities that might get her killed if she isn't careful. She'd just ventured into the dating world again after the death of her husband and had signed up with an online match-matcher, only to find a match who wouldn't take ?no? for an answer. To complicate matters, a colleague turns up dead from eating the brownies she brought to the company's Christmas potluck and now Jessie is in the middle of a murder case.
Gus Colcannon, a new programmer at the company, starts to ask a lot of questions and Jessie gets suspicious. That's when she finds she may have uncovered a terrorist plot aimed at several airlines and Gus is an undercover FBI agent, sent to ferret out the truth. But Jessie's the only one who has the evidence to prove what's going on and she's been set up as bait in a trap. Did Gus set the trap? Or is someone else at the company out to get her? Now all Jessie has to do is dodge an email stalker, help unravel the clues that her murdered co-worker left her, and try to avoid falling in love with Gus.
Well, two out of three ain't bad.

PRINT ISBN 1-60154-078-7
(216 pages) Spicy


“Did you check the label with your name on it?”


“Did you check it?” The elevator doors opened and Gus led the way out through a crowd of people gathered in the elevator lobby.

“No, I didn't. It had my name on it so…”

He stopped. “Stay here. Let me check.”

“What—why?” I peered past him. People were gathered in a group near the cafeteria, talking loudly. “What's happening?”

He was gone, pushing through the crowd into the cafeteria only to come back almost immediately. “Come on.”


“They're calling an ambulance.” He led the way into the elevator and punched the button for our floor.

“I didn't do anything wrong,” I said. “I just put the label on my plate and—”

“I know.” He tapped a staccato rhythm on the rail at the back of the elevator car.

“But I didn't—how did—why—”

“Don't worry about it. Just stay with me. We need to check and see if—”

The doors opened and we stepped out. “Check what?”

“Come on.” He jerked my arm.

“Hey. Watch it.” I tried to pull my arm away but he had me in a viselike grip.

“Come on. We've got to find Charlie.” He tugged me through the entry foyer, past the receptionist desk and toward the kitchen/lunchroom.

“Charlie? Why do we have to find Charlie?”

Colcannon stopped so fast I ran into him. I smelled a tangy, woodsy aftershave and felt the hard planes of his body, rigid and solid. I peeked around his shoulder.

Charlie was lying on his back on the gray and white linoleum floor in the fifth floor lunchroom, the plate of brownies scattered nearby.

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