At the time, especially after one of these men had nearly killed Isobel in her car, Sam had felt on high alert, worried for her own safety and that of the box in her possession. But months had passed without incident. No one had come snooping around. Not even a casual mention of the box from any stranger. Maybe the whole story was a fabrication or a bunch of silly superstition. Sam punched the buttons for the safe’s code and the door swung quietly open.
The lumpy surface of the box felt familiar as she pulled it from its hiding place. She held it close to her body and the wood began to warm. By the time she’d closed the safe and walked upstairs, the normally dark stain had begun to glow to the color of honey. Her mood rose, her steps feeling lighter. She set the box on her bathroom vanity and undressed for the shower, allowing warm water to further soothe her tired muscles.
In her mind, a picture emerged of the cake she would bake for their anniversary. If she got up early in the morning and went straight to the bakery she could create to her heart’s content before the bustle of the real workday began. Shower finished, she dried and dressed quickly, locating a piece of paper in her nightstand drawer and quickly sketching the design for the cake before any of the details could escape. If inspiration had come from her handling of the box, she knew the effect would be temporary. Folding the page, she stuck it in the pocket of her work slacks, draped over the bedroom chair, then headed for the kitchen.
She seasoned two chicken breasts, grated parmesan and cut the florets from a head of fresh broccoli. Outside, she heard Beau’s cruiser, his happy greeting for the dogs, the front door.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” he called through the open doorway. “Had to stop off for one final interview.”
She couldn’t see him from where she stood and found herself trying to read his tone of voice. Would their earlier testiness resume?
“Dinner in about twenty minutes,” she said. “I can hold it a little longer if you want a shower or a drink first.”
His head peered around the doorframe. “Let’s do a drink out on the deck first. It won’t be long before the evenings are too chilly to sit out there.”
She set the vegetables aside and dried her hands, heading toward the living room.
“Sounds good to—” She came to an abrupt halt. On the coffee table sat an enormous bouquet of yellow roses—her favorite.
“Beau—”
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s a little early for our anniversary, but I don’t think it’s too early for an apology. I’m sorry for earlier.”
She turned to him, her throat suddenly tight. “Me too. I don’t know why I—”
But she couldn’t talk just then because his mouth was on hers. Dinner somehow got delayed as they stumbled up the stairs and undressed more quickly than she ever remembered. The evening became a pleasant blur of warmth and togetherness, wine and a good meal, back to bed to settle into each other’s arms. Sam had reached that most pleasant state of bliss.
Then the phone rang. Beau rolled over and picked it up.
“Robinet?” he said. “I’ll be right there.”
Chapter 20
Sam shivered in the passenger seat of Beau’s cruiser, waiting for the heater to provide some bit of warmth. The midnight phone call had startled both of them awake, their fuzzy mood disappearing like a wisp of smoke in a gale. Dispatch had said only that there had been an incident involving Josephine Robinet at the El Monte Hotel. Sam knew there was no hope of her falling back to sleep once Beau left, so she opted to come with him. He switched off his strobing lights as they pulled under the hotel’s portico.
“I swear, Sheriff, no employee here at El Monte gave out private information about Mrs. Robinet. We don’t even have her real name on the registration.” The night manager fluttered about, covering his bases. He seemed young, inexperienced, and worried for his job if one of the hotel’s important guests should complain to upper management.
“Where is she now?” Beau asked.
“Was she harmed?” Sam blurted at the same moment.
“She is shaken but unhurt. We have installed her in another room and sealed off her old one for now.”
What on earth happened here? Sam wondered as they followed the manager to the elevator. Beau suggested that they first speak with Jo, then check out the room. The man inserted a key into a slot on the elevator panel and pressed the top button, one with a small symbol on it but no number. The car glided silently and opened to a small foyer decorated in Southwestern chic. A private suite? Who knew Taos had anything quite this exclusive? He gave a series of short knocks, evidently some code devised for Jo. Beau seemed to approve of the extra measures.
A uniformed hotel guard opened the door, surveyed the three, then admitted them.
“Sam!” Jo rushed forward wearing a hotel robe over her long nightgown. Her hair was in tangles and without makeup her face seemed young and scared.
“What happened?” Sam said, meeting Jo’s outstretched arms and pulling her in.
Jo’s words spilled out, her hands fluttering. “Phone calls, shadows … the window … someone at the door.”
“Maybe we should all sit down,” Beau said. He turned to the guard and hotel manager. “I think we’ll be all right from here. I’ll need a key to her previous room, please.”
The guard handed it over and the two men left. Sam saw that the suite included a small kitchen, elegant living room and two bedrooms. She offered to make tea or pour Jo a glass of wine from the rack on the granite countertop.
“Nothing right now,” Jo said.
Sam filled the electric kettle anyway.
Beau led the way into the living room and let Jo take her choice of seats.
“I know this is upsetting and probably a little disorganized in your mind, but if you could walk me through it and tell me what happened and when?”
Jo took a breath and clenched her hands to keep them still. “The first incident happened last night, shortly after I checked in and settled into the room. The phone rang—I assumed it would be Sam or someone from the hotel staff so I answered it. The caller quickly hung up.”
“You didn’t say anything about this to me at work today,” Sam said.
“I didn’t really think anything of it. A wrong number, I assumed.”
“It might have been. What time did it happen?” Beau was taking notes now. Sam shut off the kettle and brewed two cups of tea, carrying them to the coffee table and setting them down for Jo and herself.
“Early evening … maybe six o’clock,” Jo said, in answer to Beau’s question.
“That’s all?”
“Last night, yes. Tonight, there was another phone call. I had specifically asked the front desk not to put any calls through. I let it ring four times but it just wouldn’t quit. I thought of my son. Maybe he needed to reach me.”
“Had you told him you were staying here?”
“Come to think of it, no, I hadn’t.” She twisted a little in her seat. “The ringing began to worry me so I picked it up. That time, someone was breathing. Just loudly enough to let me know he was there.”
“So it was a male?”
“Well, I said ‘he’ but I can’t really be sure.”
“What did you do? Did you speak?”
“I think I asked who it was. But they didn’t say anything. It was creepy. I asked one more time then I hung up. I think I paced the length of the room a time or two then took the phone off the hook. Obviously, the desk people were not taking me seriously.”
Which would explain the manager’s current state of anxiety.
“You said someone came to your door?”
“That was later. I watched some TV and tried to put the phone calls out of my mind. I went to bed and turned out the light. I was almost asleep when I heard a noise at the window. On the third floor I couldn’t imagine—”
“What sort of noise?” Beau asked.
“Small, at first, as if someone threw a handful of gravel.
That was my first thought but it seemed crazy. I decided it was probably a tree branch, leaves brushing the glass, something like that.”
“Did you get up and look?”
“Not right away. I kept telling myself it was only the wind. But then I remembered what a still night it was. And then I pictured the view from my window and realized there were no trees close enough to the building. I stood to the side and peeked around the edge of the curtain but couldn’t see anyone. The room looked out over a garden with small pathway lights. It’s fairly dark out there.”
“We’ll check it out.” Beau seemed skeptical of actually finding the stalker on the premises by now. “But that wasn’t all, was it?”
“Right. The door. I laid awake for about two hours and finally relaxed enough to doze off. But then I heard my door handle rattle. I just froze to the spot, thinking I had dreamed it. But it happened again, and a voice called my name. This creepy half-whisper. I think I cried out. I’m not sure. My heart was pounding so hard and my hands were shaking. I reached for the phone but it was still off the hook so I fumbled around for my cell phone, but then I realized I didn’t have the number for the front desk programmed in and—all this time I was shaking so bad. I put the regular phone back and it took a minute for a connection, and then I called the desk and by that time my voice was so shaky I don’t think they could understand me. I had to repeat everything a few times.”
Sam reached out and took Jo’s hand.
“While I was talking, the door opened. I know it did—a beam of light from the hallway came in. I screamed and yelled for the desk clerk to send help right away. The door closed again.”
“How long before the hotel guard came up?”
“I don’t know …” She was sobbing again. “I … It’s the first time in my life I remember feeling genuine panic. I couldn’t move, I was so terrified. The guard opened the door with a passkey and called out to me.”
“Okay,” said Beau, “you don’t have to go back over that part. I’ll ask him about it. And we can post a deputy in the suite’s foyer for the rest of the night.”
“Do you feel safe enough to stay here?” Sam asked.
“I won’t sleep, if that’s what you mean. But, yes, I’ll be all right if there’s someone guarding the door.” She reached for the tea, which was lukewarm by now. “I need to be rid of the Lexus. I’m sure having it outside is how the man knew I was here. I’ll take it back to the house and put it in the garage again.”
“How about afterward?” Sam asked.
“I’ll have to think about that.” Jo sipped the tea, while Beau looked over his notes.
“I can’t think of anything else right now,” he said, “but we’ll check back with you in the morning.”
Morning, Sam thought as they took the elevator down. It was already after two a.m. According to her original plan, she would be getting up at four-thirty and heading to her shop to bake their anniversary cake. Barely a moment’s sleep and already the new day was way off track. She stood to the side as Beau spoke with the hotel manager, warning him nothing better happen to Jo, and they would be answering directly to the sheriff’s department if there were any further disturbances of this guest.
“Let’s go home,” he said, draping an arm across Sam’s shoulders as they walked to his cruiser.
She leaned into him, all her earlier energy from handling the box completely gone now.
When Sam’s cell phone jangled on the bedside table, she rolled over, wanting badly to ignore it. Catching sight of the readout, however, she saw it was Jo.
“Sam, I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Ugh. Even though she and Beau had agreed not to set their alarms, it still felt awfully early.
“I wanted to let you know that I’ve decided what to do. I stayed up all night and still didn’t feel safe alone in this hotel. So I called my best friend this morning and I’m going to stay at her house. I’ll take the Lexus home and put it out of sight in the garage again. I’ll get a rental to drive around town. Surely, this person will be caught soon, don’t you think?”
Evidently, Jo had several cups of coffee under her belt this morning. Sam’s fuzzy mind struggled to process this raft of new information.
“Hold on a second.” She turned to Beau, who was rubbing his eyes, and told him what Jo had in mind.
He reached out and took the phone. “Jo, I don’t think this is a good idea. Think about it. Anyone who knows you and your movements will know your friends. You could be putting both of you in danger.”
“Sorry, Sheriff. I’ve made up my mind. Brenda lives in a very secure neighborhood, gated condo complex, and she’s got a great alarm system. She practically begged me to come there when I told her what happened last night.”
“Have you told anyone else?” He rubbed the stubble on his chin.
“No. And I won’t. You’ll catch the man soon and then I can go home. Until then, at least I’m not a prisoner in a hotel.”
She hung up and Beau groaned as he handed Sam’s phone back. “There’s some people you just can’t protect from their own stupidity.”
He went into the bathroom. Sam’s phone rang again almost immediately.
“I meant to tell you,” Jo said, “I’ll be at the bakery this morning. I don’t want you to think you can’t count on me.”
The bakery. Sam realized she was running more than three hours late for everything she’d hoped to accomplish today. She pulled her clothes on, raced through brushing her teeth, and was out the door ten minutes later. Jo’s Lexus sat in the alley near Julio’s motorcycle. That was another subject Sam wanted to address soon, to get Kelly to admit that she and Julio were dating.
“Sam—I’m glad you’re here.” Jo was boxing up chocolates from the assortment they had already completed. On the worktable sat a new bag of cacao beans, ready for processing. “Can we talk for a minute?”
By her bright-eyed appearance, Jo obviously meant right now. Heavens—Sam hadn’t even removed her coat yet.
“I need at least one cup of coffee before I have to process a single scrap of information,” Sam told her.
She greeted Julio and Becky and went to the front where Jen had—bless her!—freshly brewed their signature blend coffee. A woman in business attire was choosing a dozen pastries and a man with a bulging gut called out his order for three bear claws. Sam bagged those, picked up her own coffee mug and joined Jo back in the kitchen.
“Maybe we should talk privately?” she suggested to Jo.
A quick glance toward the other employees and Jo agreed. She slipped on a fleece jacket against the frosty morning air and they stepped out to the alley.
“Let’s walk. It’s too cold to stand around in the shade,” Sam suggested. “I assume this is about your plan to stay with your friend. You know Beau isn’t crazy about that idea.”
“I know, but I told him how I felt about it. Would you be willing to follow me over to my house sometime this morning so I can leave the Lexus? The rental car company will deliver a car here to the bakery around noon.”
They turned the corner and crossed the street toward the plaza.
“Which brings up the other thing I wanted to talk about. Sam, I’d really love to continue working for you. For free, of course. Now that I have Zack’s half of the business I don’t have money worries. I just need something to fill the hours and I love working with chocolate.”
“Jo, I—” Sam started to say she didn’t normally get all that many orders for chocolates.
“I’ll continue to help out at ChanZack as needed, but that’s far from full time. Helen handles all the daily entries so it’s usually only at tax season that I’m involved. With Zack gone I’ll be needed to move money around among the investment accounts. He always handled that.” She seemed to be clarifying all these details for herself more than for Sam’s information.
“So, what do you think?” Jo said, stopping in mid-sidewalk and facing Sam. “About my working for you.”
“Well
, definitely until we get this big order finished. After that, let me evaluate the situation. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to keep you busy right now. Maybe more around the holidays.”
Sam didn’t feel quite fueled up yet, although her coffee was gone. She subtly steered Jo back toward Sweet’s Sweets. Her mind not geared toward work yet, she suggested that this would be a good time to take Jo’s car to its home garage. She poured more coffee into a paper cup and got into her van to follow Jo home.
As they approached, the middle garage door slid upward and Jo steered the Lexus inside while Sam waited in her idling van in the spacious driveway. Jo trotted out a minute later.
“I thought of some things I want to get from the house,” she said through Sam’s window. “Want to come in with me?”
“I can wait out here.”
“It’ll only take a minute.” Jo went back in through the garage, the door slid down.
Less than a minute later, Jo came running out the front door, breathing hard. “Sam! I think we better call Beau. Someone’s broken into the house.”
Now I’m awake, thought Sam. She dialed Beau and handed the phone to Jo.
“Is the intruder still inside?” he asked.
“No. Well, I don’t think so. I’m sure I made a lot of noise, and I walked through several rooms before it hit me that little things are messed up.”
“Stay right where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Jo bounced on the balls of her feet, looking toward the house and back at Sam as rhythmically as if she were at a tennis match. All the while, she chewed at a cuticle. It would be a wonder if she didn’t manage to scratch off half her lip, Sam thought.
“Do you want to just go on inside?” Jo finally asked after about ten minutes, still nibbling that cuticle.
“Beau said to wait out here.” Sam thought of the near-arguments between herself and Beau this week, balanced by the complete and beautiful reconciliation last night. The sound of a siren down the road spared her from having to make a bad choice. His cruiser roared into the driveway thirty seconds later. She got out of the van and stood beside it with Jo.
Sweets Forgotten (Samantha Sweet Mysteries Book 10) Page 18