Fans of bestselling cozy mysteries by Denise Swanson, Maddie Day, and Jessica Beck will find the perfect concoction of murder and sleuthing in Lynn Cahoon’s latest Farm-to-Fork mystery.   Angie first meets Daniel Monet at a local mission, where she and her chef-in-training, Hope, are serving barbeque chicken poutine to the homeless. Monet is one of Hope’s teachers—but Angie’s boyfriend thinks he knows him from his youthful days in England. But soon, the bon vivant is no longer vivant. When Monet is found dead, with Hope’s prints on the wine glass next to him, it will be Angie who has to sauce out the real killer . . .   Praise for Lynn Cahoon's Tourist Trap Mysteries   “Murder, dirty politics, pirate lore, and a hot police detective: Guidebook to Murder has it all! A cozy lover’s dream come true.”—Susan McBride, author of The Debutante Dropout Mysteries   “Lynn Cahoon has created an absorbing, good fun mystery in Mission to Murder .”— Fresh Fiction One Potato, Two Potato, Dead A Farm-to-Fork Mystery By LYNN CAHOON KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP. Copyright © 2019 Lynn Cahoon All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-5161-0386-7 CHAPTER 1 Angie Turner shivered as she all but ran to the barn to feed her only hen, Mabel, and the newest member of the Turner household, Precious, the goat she'd found earlier that year. Fall had come hard to the little farm town of River Vista, Idaho. She'd known when she moved north from San Francisco the moderate weather wouldn't hold long, but she wasn't quite ready for winter yet. She didn't know why, but she always worshipped days like this that started cool, then turned into a sunny afternoon. The chill made her appreciate the warmth that arrived later in the day. The best thing about fall was the produce that came out of the farmers market. Her options had turned from the leafy greens of summer to the deep oranges of fall. And the potatoes she'd been cooking with lately were amazing. Today she was planning on experimenting with a few different takes on the Canadian staple poutine. Hope Anderson had been talking about the dish since her classes started back up last month. Angie thought that maybe her dishwasher/chef-in-training was more interested in the Canadian visiting professor than the food he was teaching them to make. A bleating from the middle stall brought her out of her musing. Precious, the not-so-baby goat she'd adopted in early spring, was standing on two legs, looking at her over the top of the gate. Angie hurried over and waved the goat down. The last thing she needed was Precious learning she could jump or climb the gate into the main barn area. She wasn't afraid the goat would take off; instead, she was more concerned that Precious would find the grain stored in the barn. Mabel, the lone black-and-white hen from Nona's last flock, wouldn't be pleased with sharing her corn. Angie's boyfriend Ian had suggested they put up an electric wire to shock Precious when she got close, but that just seemed cruel, especially since the goat hadn't got out of her pen. Yet. However, it looked like Angie might be running out of options. She rubbed behind the goat's ears. "Hey, girl, how was your night?" Precious bleated out a few sounds, lifting her head to sniff Angie's hair. When Angie had first gotten the new addition, she'd set up a baby monitor in the barn so she could hear if anything went south. But now that Precious was older, she'd turned off the monitors and trusted the barn to keep her safe. She fed the goat, cleaned out her stall and water trough, and then turned to where Mabel liked to roost. The hen eyed her warily as she spread out corn. Angie figured Mabel might warm up to her in a few years, but she wasn't holding her breath. The chicken had loved Angie's grandmother. And maybe that was enough. Taking one last look to make sure she'd finished her chores, Angie headed back across the yard where Dom, her St. Bernard, sat waiting for her on the porch. Dom and Precious didn't quite get along. The goat liked the dog well enough, but Dom? He was scared of Precious. He'd been that way since the day Angie had brought the baby home from Moss Farms. Back then, she thought the goat was just a visitor. When she became one of the family, Dom hadn't voted for the change. "Good morning, mister." Angie climbed the stairs to the porch and turned to study her neighbor's house. Mrs. Potter was visiting her son and daughter-in-law this month, so no one was in residence across the street. The house had a sad look to it. Dom glanced that way and sighed. "Don't worry. Mrs. Potter and Erica will be back soon." As they walked in the house, Angie wondered if Mrs. Potter would even come back from California or if she'd stay down for the winter. And maybe longer. She was getting up in years and didn't have anyone here except her granddaughter, Erica, who was going to school at Boise State. Angie wanted her to be happy, but even now, she missed seeing her come over with her walk