Comfort food and murder are on the holiday menu in the latest mystery from the national bestselling author of Macaroni and Freeze . . .   All Trixie Matkowski wants for Christmas is a break—just not the broken leg she got after slipping on some ice. With Sandy Harbor alive in the hustle and bustle of the season, it’s the busiest time of the year at Trixie’s Silver Bullet Diner. There are millions of things to do, including cater the town’s annual Christmas pageant and community dinner with some delicious holiday comfort food.   But the festivities turn into a bit of a turkey after Liz Fellows, the director of the pageant, is found with Trixie’s butcher knife in her back. Now Trixie must help the police arrest the scary gentleman—or lady—guilty of the crime if she hopes to get herself off the naughty list. Praise for the Comfort Food Mysteries   “A cast of lovable characters that’ll keep you laughing long after the book ends.”—Kate Carlisle, New York Times bestselling author of the Bibliophile Mysteries   “A delightful series. . . nicely seasoned with humor. As down-home and satisfying as the daily special served at the Silver Bullet Diner.”—Krista Davis, New York Times bestselling author of the Domestic Diva Mysteries and the Paws and Claws Mysteries   “A frisky, sassy sleuth with a heart of gold.”—Daryl Wood Gerber, national bestselling author of the Cookbook Nook Mysteries   “All the right ingredients: humor, good food, a charming heroine, and a compelling mystery. Trixie is instantly likable with her sharp wit, warm heart, and hardworking attitude. . . . Well-developed secondary characters enhance the story line and add local flavor. Overall, an impressive mystery with recipes that will surely satisfy cozy lovers.”— RT Book Reviews Christine Wenger is the national bestselling author of the Comfort Food Mysteries, including Macaroni and Freeze and Diners, Drive-ins, and Death . She has worked in the criminal justice field and is thrilled to bring the beauty of upstate New York to life in this series. Praise Also by Christine Wenger Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Epilogue Recipes and Holiday Memories from Trixie’s Family and Friends Excerpt from DO OR DINER Chapter 1 I just love Christmas. At times, the holiday season might be stressful. It always seems like there’s never enough time to decorate, bake, shop, write out thoughtful messages on cards, entertain, and enjoy the numerous events. But even though it’s busy and crazy, it’s a wonderful time of year. I am a big list maker, and intentionally I write, “Stop, sit down, relax, and smell the cocoa.” And I make my cocoa with real chocolate, milk instead of water, whipped cream, a sprinkle of cinnamon on top, and a candy cane for a stirrer. . . . After a long day of cooking, I was looking forward to making cocoa in my special red Santa Claus mug that Grandma Bugnacki bought me decades before when we visited Santa’s North Pole Village. I was going to sit down with a big plate of my mom’s snowball cookies with a fresh dusting of powdered sugar and wash them down with the cocoa, and maybe heat up more, if needed. . . . I looked around at all the boxes and bins that I’d just brought up from the basement or lugged down from the attic of my Big House. Now, where was my Santa mug? But no matter how much I loved Christmas and all that went with it, I would not decorate until the dishes were in the dishwasher after Thanksgiving dinner and all my guests were either gone or in recliners, sleeping off the tryptophan from consuming mass quantities of turkey. Right then, on Thanksgiving night, all my guests were indeed gone. The only one sleeping in a recliner was my pal Antoinette Chloe Brown (who recently shed her married name of Brownelli). So I could begin to decorate my diner, the Silver Bullet, which was only a few hundred yards off the main road, Route 3, the road that split Sandy Harbor, New York, in half, sort of diagonally. I decided to take my sweet golden retriever, Blondie, for a walk in the thirteen-degree temperature and three feet of snow on the ground. Mother Nature and Lake Ontario had gone easy on us so far, with only one blizzard, but this balmy weather wouldn’t last. “Blondie, come!” I said, and she grudgingly lifted her head from her cozy spot under my thick oak kitchen table. “Let’s go for a walk!” She didn’t hurry to get up. “Come on. You love the snow.” Ty Brisco, a Houston transplant who worked as a deputy with the Sandy Harbor Sheriff’s Department, and I had rescued Blondie when she’d appeared half-frozen next to the Dumpster at the back of the Silver Bullet. Poor thing. We shared her, but I had primary custody. It got lonely at the Big House, my huge white farmhouse with green shutters and a wraparound porch. I got winterized—puffy parka, hat, boots, and gloves—and pick