Sweets Forgotten (Samantha Sweet Mysteries Book 10) Page 4

  “Let’s check in frequently,” Taylor suggested. “I have a feeling developments will come from both of our jurisdictions.”

  Beau took a deep breath after disconnecting from the call. A complicated murder case was the last thing he needed with half his department sick. The phone rang again. Sam. He’d forgotten all about the missing persons reports he was supposed to be checking for her.

  Chapter 5

  Sam slid an anxious glance toward the clock above the stove, wondering what was going on with Beau’s inquiries about the identity of her mysterious visitor. Four o’clock. It wasn’t as if Jane Doe was causing any problems here at Sweet’s Sweets. It was more like having a guest who’d popped in unannounced and Sam felt she needed to be courteous and come up with ways to entertain her. The bakery was busy enough on any given day to keep her entire crew moving at full speed; entertaining visitors during the work day was putting a strain on her normally ready smile.

  She picked up the tray of Sherlock-themed cupcakes and walked toward the bookshop next door. If she hadn’t heard from Beau by the time she’d delivered them she would call him. True, his other investigation was more important than this one but, seriously, it was getting late in the day and what was she supposed to do with Jane after closing time?

  “Ah, bon soir, Miss Samantha!” Ivan Petrenko, the quirky Russian who owned the bookstore greeted her with enthusiasm. “You have bringing the chocolate goodies for the week!”

  Sam tended to forget the stories of his colorful past—which supposedly included a daring escape from communist Russia, a life in France where he reputedly became a renowned chef, and a career in a top New York restaurant before he landed in Taos—until she conversed with him and tried to work out his odd blend of languages and syntax.

  “You mentioned the club was reading Arthur Conan Doyle this week, so we went with a sleuthing theme,” she said, setting the cupcakes on a table with a display of nineteenth-century detective articles, along with the featured book.

  “She is perfect, these treats,” Ivan said, handing Sam a check. “How is going, your day?”

  “Pretty well. We’re busy but it’s not as crazy as it will get when the holidays begin.”

  He gave her an odd look, reminding her that the word ‘crazy’ had several interpretations. There was no telling which one Ivan was picturing in his head right now.

  “A woman showed up this morning. She apparently has amnesia,” Sam said. “You know that word, right?”

  “Oh, da, is the forgetting of memory.”

  “Something like that. She doesn’t know her own name or where she lives. Beau is trying to find out if anyone has filed a missing person report but I haven’t heard back from him yet and she’s just hanging around my shop.”

  He gave a sympathetic nod.

  “Hey, maybe I should send her over here. Seeing some of the books might remind her of something.”

  Ivan gave a noncommittal European shrug. “I am opening until six. Book club come at six-thirty.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Sam said on her way out the door.

  What would happen if she sent Jane over and the woman wandered away? Beau might come up with some relatives and then they wouldn’t be able to find her again. Plus, what if Jane’s amnesia was caused by a traumatic event and something in the bookshop reminded her of it so strongly that she freaked out. Sam couldn’t envision herself or Ivan being able to handle the situation if the woman truly went berserk.

  She paused on the sidewalk and pulled out her phone. Bothersome or not, there was only one way to find out what, if anything, Beau had learned.

  “Hey, darlin’,” he said. His voice sounded harried. “Sorry, but I haven’t had a minute to follow up on your lady.”

  “Beau, she isn’t ‘my lady’ and I really don’t want her to become mine. I really need somewhere to send her before we close up shop for the day.”

  A quick flash went through her head, the idea of taking Jane home with her for the night. But the earlier vision of the woman suddenly turning into a whole different personality came back at her. No. Jane needed some kind of professional help.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “I haven’t had any luck with our local databases and there’s been no time to take the search further. I’ll call Melissa Masters and have her come by your place. Her department is equipped to deal with these things.”

  “Thank you.” Sam breathed a sigh, reminding herself there were times when it really wasn’t necessary to fix everything personally. She hung up and went back to the cinnamon-sugar ambiance of her own shop.

  “Hey, Sam,” Jen greeted. “I was just totaling the register. Looks like we’ve had a decent day.”

  Sam crossed behind the counter to take a look. It was amazing how certain days turned out well, even when it didn’t feel like a lot of traffic had come in.

  “Becky and I were playing a little game with Jane awhile ago, tossing out names to see if she recognized her own.”

  “And?” A rush of hope.

  “No luck. No flicker even.”

  “Ah well.” She told Jen about her call just now to Beau. “I’d better inform her.”

  It wasn’t as if Jane had any belongings to gather, so when Melissa Masters pulled up in front of Sweet’s Sweets thirty minutes later she was ready to go.

  Melissa turned out to be a woman in her fifties, probably near Sam’s age but far more matronly with polyester slacks and a pastel color-coordinated blouse. Her hair reached her collar in short gray waves and her smile was genuine, the sort that radiated kindness and understanding toward those who had endured way too much in their lives. Jane seemed to feel instantly at ease with the social worker.

  “We’ll go to Casa Comfort,” Melissa said. “The sheriff knows where we are.”

  Sam nodded.

  “Jane, you’ll share a room with another lady tonight. We have nightgowns and toothbrushes and most anything you’ll need. Depending on how many are with us at any given time, sometimes you get a room of your own. We put women with children in the larger ones and there are bunk beds for them. But don’t worry about it. I’m sure the sheriff will find your identity and get your home address real soon.”

  Jane seemed a little confused by all the plans, but Sam knew that must be normal. She watched as Melissa showed Jane out to a white Ford sedan and settled her comfortably in the passenger seat. She’d never thought of the logistics necessary to take people in on a moment’s notice, some of them indefinitely.

  They drove away and Sam wondered if she would ever see Jane again. Quite likely, Beau would come up with her identity, and anxious family members would come pick her up. With luck maybe Jane’s memory would come back immediately when she saw familiar faces and surroundings. Otherwise, she might be in for a long haul of medical and psychiatric care.

  “Sam?” Jen touched her forearm. “You okay?”

  “Absolutely.” She surveyed the sales room. “Ready to close?”

  “Here’s the bank bag. I think everyone else has already left.”

  Suddenly, the long day closed in on Sam and she felt an overwhelming need to get home. In the kitchen, Julio had washed and neatly put away all the baking utensils. The oven was off and Becky’s orders for the next day waited on the worktable. The lights, other than the one above Sam’s desk, were off.

  After checking the front door behind Jen, she jammed the bank deposit into her backpack purse, switched out the final lamp, got into her van and drove north. Thank goodness for the crockpot chicken waiting at home; at this moment she didn’t even have the energy to stop for fast food.

  I miss the box, she thought as she edged through the stop-and-go traffic past the pueblo turnoff. No, you don’t. You can’t turn to magic every time you get a little tired.

  An ancient VW with a wheezing engine and bumper stickers all over the back, slowed abruptly to make the turn at the health food market, and Sam had to hit her brakes to avoid rear-ending it.

  “Get your tailligh
ts fixed,” she muttered to the oblivious driver, reminding herself to stay alert. It wasn’t that much farther.

  The turnoff for the ranch welcomed her, the stone portals on each side of the long drive and the carved lintel connecting them gave the place a solid feel. Beau’s big log house, where Sam had moved when they married, welcomed her in the late dusk. Lights at the windows and the sight of his cruiser parked out front comforted her. Both dogs rose and approached the edge of the front porch as she parked her van.

  “The chicken smelled so good when I got here,” came Beau’s voice from the kitchen, “that I went ahead and mashed the potatoes and made some gravy.”

  What a prize he was. She dropped her pack onto one of the hooks at the coatrack and set her phone on the end table before joining him in the kitchen. He handed her a glass of wine and insisted she take a seat at the small kitchen table while he turned off the gas under a pan on the range top.

  “Um, you taste like sugar,” he said after kissing the top of her head.

  “I should shower. I think I have powdered sugar in every pore of my body.”

  “I could get that for you.” He licked the tip of her nose with a little flick.

  “Ugh, honey. You really don’t want to do that. There’s plenty of sweat in the mix too.”

  He laughed and clicked his beer glass to her wine glass. “Okay, you win. You want that shower before dinner or after?”

  Tiredness was settling over her pretty quickly. She stood up and took his hand. “If you can hold dinner ten minutes I’ll make it a very quick one.”

  By the time she came downstairs, refreshed and wearing a loose caftan, he’d lit candles on the dining table and refilled her wine glass.

  “Is there an occasion I’ve forgotten or do you plan to always spoil me rotten?” she teased.

  “Um, probably neither. Although our anniversary is coming up soon.”

  Sam gulped too quickly and sputtered on her wine. How had she not remembered such an important date, especially when she created fantastic desserts for other people’s occasions all the time?

  Sam’s energy began to return as she ate. Beau talked about his investigation.

  “I made a second trip out to interview the victim’s parents,” he said. “Now that the Albuquerque police are treating this as a suspicious death, possibly a homicide, my department is having to look into the man’s background here at home.”

  “And I’ll bet the parents swear their son never used drugs a day in his life.”

  “Most of ’em will tell you that, yes. Especially the ones who’ve been successful in their lives and watched their children grow up to be successful too. They really don’t think that stuff happens in their own families.”

  A picture of Kelly flashed briefly through Sam’s mind. Aside from a lot of beer and maybe some experimentation in her college years, surely her own daughter didn’t …

  “So the Robinets are swearing up one side and down the other that dear Zack was a wonderful man who never made an enemy, who attended church every week and was probably the next Steve Jobs when it came to his business success.”

  “And you’re not buying it?”

  “I think they genuinely believe it. I mean, most likely they’re not covering up anything. But parents often have an incredible blind side about their adult children. Here’s a couple who are vital and active for their ages—they travel and get out a lot. How closely did they really stay involved in their married son’s life?” He poured a little more wine for Sam. “I went by Zack Robinet’s residence—nice place, by the way. Nobody home there. Most likely, the parents or the business partner will talk to the wife before I do.”

  “Still, you have to get her side of things.”

  “Yeah, she’ll be the one to verify or deny the things the parents said.”

  “Do you think she will?” Sam set down her fork and pushed her plate aside. “She might be the one with the most to lose by admitting her husband’s weaknesses.”

  “Losing face, you mean?”

  “Well, yeah. Especially when it comes to sex and drugs. She could have been turning a blind eye to all kinds of things, you know, in exchange for lots of money and a fantastic lifestyle.”

  He nodded. “Some do. You’re right about that. The same might be said for his business partner, Chandler Lane. I’d planned on going back to question him some more but he’s on his way to a trade show and won’t be back in Taos for another three or four days.”

  Sam stood up and stacked the dishes. “I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything home for dessert, but there’s ice cream in the freezer.”

  His smile told her he’d rather have the ice cream than a pastry any day. He picked up the leftover chicken and bowl of potatoes and followed her to the kitchen.

  “So, on a completely different topic,” Sam said as she rummaged in a drawer for the ice cream scoop, “I don’t suppose there’s any late-breaking news on Jane?”

  He paused with the freezer door open.

  “Sorry, darlin’. There’s only so many hours in the day. I had Dixie send the photo out to surrounding jurisdictions. Just as I was leaving for the day she said there was one response from a town in Colorado. Pagosa Springs, I think.”

  He pulled out the new carton of vanilla and proceeded to scoop as he talked.

  “For now, Jane’s safely in the hands of Melissa and her colleagues so you don’t need to worry about her. I’ll let you know what we find out, and chances are good that she’ll be on her way back to her worried family by this time tomorrow.”

  Back in the living room, Sam took two bites of her ice cream but felt her earlier tiredness return. When Beau finished off both servings and carried the bowls to the kitchen she found herself dozing on the couch.

  Beau came back and kissed her gently on her left temple. “Hey there. You ought to go on to bed. I’ll check the horses and dogs and lock up everything. See you upstairs.”

  He didn’t have to suggest twice. She thought once again of the carved box in the safe, feeling very tempted to handle it a little to rid herself of this lethargic mood. But past experience had shown that touching the box at night wasn’t a good idea if she wanted any sleep at all. She walked past the closet with the safe and headed upstairs.

  By the time she had completed her little nightly routine, Beau was in the bedroom peeling off his undershirt. She spent a moment enjoying the view of his rippling muscles.

  “You know why you’re so tired this week?” he asked. “I think you’re not busy enough. You’re between seasons at the bakery and your crew handles everything there really well.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows at him as he crawled in bed beside her. “I can think of one thing that would keep me busy for awhile right now.”

  His sexy smile still melted her heart. “Well, that too. But what I was going to suggest is that you help me with this murder investigation.”

  Sam ignored that suggestion and reached for his elastic waistband.

  Chapter 6

  Sam pulled her bakery van into the alley behind the shop and gathered her pack and the now-empty bank deposit bag. When she looked up, Kelly’s car sat nose to nose with hers, directly behind Puppy Chic. Her daughter had a big smile and her eyes sparkled. Sam hoped her own sexual afterglow wasn’t quite so evident.

  “So … I’m guessing that the big date last night went well?” Sam teased.

  “Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

  “You gonna tell me his name?”

  “Not just yet. I don’t know if it’ll last. We’ve only had two dates, Mom. And no sex yet. Really, I’m not jumping into a new relationship that quickly!”

  “Okay, fair enough. When it comes to a serious guy, I trust you to pick someone who’s good for you, someone I’ll like, and who’ll produce beautiful grandchildren for me.” Sam laughed and shifted her pack to the other shoulder. “I’d better be getting to work. I’m sure the crew has been at it quite awhile already.”

  Kelly’s gaze slid over to where Julio
’s Harley was parked near the bakery’s gas meter. She gave that dreamy little smile again and headed for the back door of the dog grooming shop.

  Julio? Oh my god, could he be—?

  She shook off the thought and stepped into the bakery kitchen. “I just saw Kelly outside. She seems pretty happy today.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Becky said. “Kelly had a big date last night, didn’t she?”

  “Apparently so,” Sam said with a smile as she hung up her pack and slipped on a clean baker’s jacket.

  Julio gave his usual quiet “Good morning” and started measuring butter and sugar into the Hobart. She turned off her Mom Radar and decided she better relax about this. Kelly’s bouncy demeanor was nothing new, and the sweet smile this morning might have been aimed at something entirely other than the bike. It had to be. Kelly and Julio, a couple? Nah, their temperaments were so different. Sam just couldn’t see it.

  She chided herself as she picked up the stack of order sheets for the day and spread out the orders to prioritize them. Beau was right—the shop certainly wasn’t overly busy right now. Between now and the weekend there were only three weddings and six birthdays. Becky had the autumn flower wedding cake well under way, as evidenced by the dozens of sugar flowers which hung upside down by their stems to dry. One of the other weddings was a very traditional cake with lots of piping and string work. Strings got tricky and Becky hated doing them, so Sam would handle that one herself. The third was a simple fondant-covered two tiers, with satin ribbon and fresh flowers. The bride had ordered the flowers, which would be delivered by the florist on Saturday, then Sam would quickly put the cake together and deliver it Saturday for the Sunday afternoon ceremony.

  She made certain the cake flavors were noted and that nothing required a special topper or decorative element she didn’t have on hand. Everything seemed well under control. Maybe she really could be helping Beau in some way. She was nibbling on the cap of her pen when her phone rang.