Sweets Galore: The Sixth Samantha Sweet Mystery (The Samantha Sweet Mysteries)

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Sweets Galore: The Sixth Samantha Sweet Mystery (The Samantha Sweet Mysteries) Page 4

by Shelton, Connie


  “I’m so proud of her,” Jake said in the way two parents might reminisce at their kid’s graduation.

  Like you had anything to do with that. She noticed that Beau was studying Jake. She called him over and introduced them—first names, no details about Jake.

  “Beau is my fiancé,” she said with pride.

  He slipped an arm over her shoulders. Jake took the hint, made a few polite noises and left. When Sam looked up at Beau she saw the questions in his eyes.

  “Lunch?” she asked.

  They walked out to his cruiser and he suggested a place they liked, where it would be quiet enough to talk but busy enough to keep the conversation private.

  “So that was Jake.”

  “That was Jake.”

  “He in town long?”

  “I certainly hope not.” Sam launched into the explanation of how Jake had showed up out of the blue and immediately asked her for money, how he’d figured out about Kelly and insisted on a meeting.

  “Sounds like it was a little rough between you and Kelly. No wonder you slept like a kitten on uppers last night.”

  “Was I tossing around that badly?”

  He gave a rueful smile. “Yeah. So, now that he’s met Kelly, what next?”

  “You saw what just happened. She went back to work, he made it sound all chummy. I guess I’ll have to get her version of it to see how she handled it.”

  “How are you handling it? Is there still a spark?”

  “Beau! No. No.” There had been a huge spark thirty-plus years ago but she truly felt nothing but irritation for Jake now.

  Beau edged a glance her way, reading her face.

  “There isn’t. No more than you felt for Felicia Black when she showed up in your life awhile back. At least Jake isn’t making romantic overtures toward me.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched but he didn’t interrupt.

  “He’s got a girlfriend with him. She’s probably younger than Kelly. It’s disgusting to see a middle-aged man act that way.”

  He let her vent and by the time they’d pulled into a parking slot along Bent Street both had relaxed. Sam rummaged through the pile of mail in her lap, pulled out the letter she’d only begun to read and carried it with her. They were shown to a table outdoors under an elm tree and they placed orders for their favorites without even looking at the menus.

  “So, what’s in the letter?” Beau asked.

  Sam settled back in her chair and opened it.

  Dear Ms. Sweet,

  I am writing to inform you of the death of your great-uncle, Terrance O’Shaughnessy of Galway, Ireland.

  She felt her brows pull together.

  As Mr. O’Shaughnessy’s personal representatives, our firm is charged with disposition of his assets and I am pleased to inform you that there is a bequest in your name. Please call me at the number above, as I need details to finalize the enclosed airline reservations for yourself and your companion.

  My condolences at your loss.

  Yours sincerely,

  Clinton Hardgate

  “Ireland?” Sam passed the page over to Beau and took a look at the other sheet. It appeared to be a printout for two airline tickets, first class, from New York City to Shannon, Ireland.

  “Who’s this uncle?” Beau asked.

  “Good question. I’ve never heard of him.” Sam studied the two pages again. “I don’t know . . . this could be some kind of scam. You know, send us your bank account number and we’ll give you this free thing.”

  Beau looked at the description of the plane tickets. “It’s dated the twenty-second. That would be the day after our wedding. Could someone know about that?”

  “I don’t see how. My family from Texas, those of us in the wedding party, our closest friends—they’re the only ones who know the date. We didn’t even put an announcement in the newspaper.”

  Their sandwiches arrived and Sam slid the pages back into the envelope.

  “I’ll do a little background research when I get back to the office,” Beau said. “We can find out if this law firm is legit and maybe see if there really is a Terrance O’Shaughnessy in Galway.”

  “I imagine there could be dozens of O’Shaughnessys,” Sam pointed out. “I’ll ask my folks too. They’ll be here this afternoon.”

  She felt a ripple of anticipation. She tended to become irritated with her mother’s intrusive questions when they spoke on the phone, but her dad had always been a calming influence and it would be good to see him, to get a better feel for his health and state of mind. And then there were the aunts and uncles, most of whom she hadn’t seen in at least twenty years. It would be nice to turn the bakery over to the employees and simply relax with family for a few days.

  “It’s not like we couldn’t do it,” Beau was saying.

  “Go to Ireland? Well, we do have passports. We’ve arranged time off work. And it sounds a lot more intriguing than our driving trip. I mean, the Grand Canyon will still be there next year.”

  Beau glanced at the envelope. “Before we get too excited, we better find out if there’s any way this could be legit.”

  “Take it with you so you’ll have all the information. Let me know what you find.”

  “Okay. But don’t be surprised if there’s some scam artist behind it all.”

  They paid their tab and Beau dropped Sam off at the bakery. She walked in to find that Becky had stepped up to finish the sugar flowers for Sam’s cake. She approved the results and they set the flowers aside to dry, getting back to the daily bakery orders and finalizing the audition cake for Vic Valentino with the small fireworks Julio had supplied. Sam didn’t ask—as the sheriff’s fiancée she didn’t really want to know—where he’d gotten them.

  Although Sam had told the wannabe singer to come after four o’clock Jen announced his arrival at a little after three. Sam carried the cake out front and watched with amusement as he focused on the skinny little figurine of himself with his gelled hair and spangled suit.

  “I love it!” He pointed to the spotlights and the microphone. “It’s so me!”

  She asked Jen to assemble a box for it.

  “That producer is going to be blown away,” Valentino said. “I’ll get on You’re The Star for sure.”

  The show whose producers were still scrambling for funding. Even if Vic had the talent to make it to national television she had serious doubts that this particular show would ever see airtime. She didn’t have the heart to say it to the young man though. She watched him place the cake into the back seat of a rundown Chevy and back out of his parking slot. Good luck, she thought as she saw the old beater drive away.

  Her phone rang as she headed back to the kitchen.

  “Mom, I meant to tell you earlier, but after we talked this morning Jake invited me to dinner. He wants a little more time together. I told him I would meet him in front of his hotel.” Kelly’s voice still seemed a little cool.

  Sam gave herself a couple of beats before she spoke. “Your grandparents are coming in this afternoon. They’ll want to see you.”

  “I know, and I’d forgotten about that when I said yes to Jake. But he said he’s probably leaving town in the next couple days. And I’ll have time with them all the way through the weekend.”

  “Whatever you think,” Sam said. “By the way, they don’t know much about Jake. Until I know whether he’s going to become a permanent factor in your life, I’d rather not bring up the subject with them. Okay?”

  She sighed as she hung up. Her own apprehensions about Jake Calendar were irrelevant right now. Kelly would do whatever she wanted to. Sam could only hope she would keep her head straight and not be rude to the rest of the family.

  No sooner had that thought emerged than Sam heard a familiar voice.

  “Oh. My. Lord. This place is just so cute!” Nina Rae Sweet had a voice that could fill an arena whenever she got excited.

  Sam quickly scanned the kitchen, happy to see that Becky’s stack of orders was under cont
rol. She’d nearly finished a traditional birthday cake for one of their older customers; there was only a child’s cake to finish today, a carousel with bright striping and fat ducks instead of horses. Julio had just placed baking sheets with six dozen cookies into the oven for the late-afternoon crowd and was in the process of washing up the mixing bowls and utensils.

  “Showtime, guys,” she murmured before turning to walk out to the front.

  “Samantha Jane! I just love it!” Nina Rae rushed forward, her rail-thin arms outstretched. How her mother managed to stay so slender Sam had never figured out. As always, her chin-length hair had been freshly done in her favorite shade of mink and the precise waves stayed exactly in place. Her makeup never changed except for her eye shadow color, which always went with the outfit of the day, this time a subtle beige pantsuit.

  “You’ve got the purple . . . and look how good those pastries . . . well. Oh, and you know the first thing we spotted? Those cakes you have in that front window display. They’re just absolutely—gorgeous.”

  She turned to Jen. “You know, I can’t believe Samantha opened her shop almost a year ago and we hadn’t gotten out here to see it.”

  Jen started to reply but Nina Rae was looking in another direction.

  “And look at these cute little tables and chairs! A person just couldn’t help coming in off the street for a nice cup of coffee and a pastry, now could they?”

  Jen closed her mouth and nodded.

  “Samantha, you look so good, honey. Beau has been good for you. I can just tell it.”

  Sam started to answer but Nina Rae was onto something else already.

  “Well, do I get to see the kitchen? Unless it’s, you know, out of bounds or something. But you know, I’d love to see your work space.”

  Sam pointed toward the curtain across the doorway that divided the two rooms.

  “How are you, Daddy?” she asked as her mother breezed past and she got the chance to hug her father. He looked a little thinner than last January when she and Beau had made a quick trip to Texas to see them.

  “I’m fine, Sammy. Life is treatin’ me good.”

  When he’d first retired from his corporate accounting position, Howard Sweet was a little at loose ends, Sam recalled. But he’d quickly taken up golf and fishing, two pastimes that kept him out of the house and on the go quite a bit. And when indoors, he usually had some type of sports program on the TV. She had to admit that he seemed content.

  An exclamation from the back told Sam that her mother had spotted the birthday cake that Becky was finishing. She signaled for Jen to join them so she could handle all the introductions at once. Once she knew all their names, it seemed Nina Rae had questions for everyone.

  Sam spent a moment neatening the papers on her desk then called Kelly to see if she was free to pop over and say hello. When she arrived, Kelly greeted her grandparents with hugs.

  “I want to see your cake, Samantha, and of course your dress,” Nina Rae said. “Hasn’t your mama done just a fantastic job with the bakery, Kelly?”

  “The cake isn’t finished, Mother,” Sam said, saving Kelly from having her cheeks pinched.

  Nina Rae turned back to Sam. “Well, it wouldn’t be, not yet, but do you have a design done up?”

  Sam showed the sketches and the sugar flowers she and Becky had made earlier. Even that bit of information seemed to pacify Nina Rae and distract her from the subject of the dress. There was no way Sam intended to model it at this point. She made a mental note to go by Kelly’s and try it on again to see if she’d made any progress with her weight loss.

  “Now, Aunt Bessie and Uncle Chub will be here by suppertime,” Nina Rae said once they’d finished a quick tour of the kitchen. “They flew from Oklahoma City into Albuquerque and they are meeting up with Lub, who’s going to drive them up here.”

  She turned to Jen. “Chub doesn’t drive out on the highway much anymore.”

  Sam had already given Beau and her staff a little primer on the odd nicknames in her family. Chub was Charles, Howard’s brother. How he’d gotten the name Chub was a little unclear, as he’d never been the least bit overweight. Their son Lester had immediately been stuck with Lub, which might have happened because as a kid he was rather pudgy but the name Chub had already been assigned to his father.

  “There’s something about the South,” Sam had warned her crew. “Your childhood nickname stays with you forever. Anyplace else they would have ditched those names well before high school, but not in Texas. There are grown men who think nothing of being called Bubba or Toots or Dusty.”

  “So what was your childhood nickname?” Becky had teased.

  She changed the subject.

  “Now do Bessie and Chub know which hotel they’re at?” Nina Rae asked.

  Sam assured her that everyone had received complete instructions. Inside, she had qualms about the fact that they were at the La Fonda, the same place Jake was staying, but since none knew each other and Kelly had been warned about spilling the secret, Sam could only hope everything would be all right until Jake left town.

  “Tonight we’re meeting for dinner at a place Beau and I really like. Everyone has directions to get there,” she said. “And right now I’m going to take you over to Zoë’s bed and breakfast. Daddy, you can follow me over there, then I’ll get back to work while y’all get settled in.” Oh, god. Ten minutes with them and I’m speaking Texan again.

  Sam led the way with her bakery van covered in the decal motif that made it look like a big box of pastries. Zoë was waiting for them and showed the parents to her best room. She suggested that they freshen up if they’d like and then she would serve tea and show them around the place, including the garden where the ceremony would take place.

  “How do you manage to anticipate her questions before she even asks?” Sam said as she and Zoë parted at the back door.

  Zoë tugged at the tunic top she wore over a flowered broomstick skirt. “I’ve hosted many moms of many brides. I had a little clue what she would be after.”

  “Daddy might want a nap before dinner,” Sam suggested, “so if you could keep Mother entertained for a little while . . .”

  “No problem. Before she knows it she’ll be helping me make flower arrangements for the tables.”

  Sam hugged Zoë and thanked her. As she drove away she let out a long breath. One hour with her parents and she was tired already.

  Chapter 5

  A deep azure sky set off the gold cottonwood leaves, rendered more brilliant by the low afternoon sun. Sam headed toward her old house—Kelly’s now—almost on automatic pilot, but feeling the urgency of her mission. She hit the speed dial for Rupert.

  “Are you busy?”

  “Sweetie, I just typed ‘The End’ on my newest and I’m ready to chill.”

  “I’m on my way to the house. I need to find out if all my half-eaten meals and calorie consciousness helped. Can you come by and do another zipper check?”

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  Sam let herself in and went straight to her old bedroom where the dress hung on a padded hanger from the top of the closet door. She ran her fingers appreciatively over the beautiful fabric and envisioned herself stately and slender in it. She got the stately part down fine but slender still eluded her. On top of her dresser the carved wooden box containing her jewelry sat like a dull lump. If things had feelings Sam would swear it was miffed that she hadn’t yet moved it to her new home.

  She walked over and ran her hand across the top of the quilt-patterned carving. The wood immediately lightened and warmed slightly to her touch. A knock at the back door startled her and she turned away.

  “Yoo-hoo? Sam?” came Rupert’s voice.

  “In here,” she called out. “Give me just a minute.” She pulled off her bakery attire and stepped into the silk and lace confection. Easing the cap sleeves up to her shoulders, she called Rupert to join her.

  “What do you think?” she asked after he’d pulled the zippe
r up as far as it would go.

  “A good foundation garment and ten more pounds, and this thing will glide up,” he said.

  “Ten pounds? I’ve got less than three days and we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

  “There’s still that spa in Santa Fe.”

  “No time for that, Rupe. I’m doing good to stay above water as it is. Kelly still needs more training on the houses, my parents are here, the rest of the family are arriving all day tomorrow, and my cake is less than half ready.”

  “Minnie Rodrigues is good with alterations, but she’ll need some time.”

  Sam closed her eyes, debating and picturing herself running at full speed for the next three days. “I think I can manage the ten pounds.”

  Rupert unzipped the dress. “I know you will.” He grazed a kiss on her cheek and told her to call him if she changed her mind. He offered to put Minnie on alert in case it was a last-minute thing. Wishing Sam luck with her mother, he left.

  Sam gazed at the wooden box again, that mysterious little artifact that had been placed in her hands by a supposed bruja, the old woman on her deathbed telling Sam that the box would help her in many ways. Including giving me the serenity to cope with all my relatives?

  She picked it up and hugged it to the bodice of her wedding dress, imagining the remainder of the week and this weekend going without a hitch. As the wood warmed Sam found herself calming. Everything would work out fine.

  She took a deep breath and set the box on the bed, slipped out of the dress and put her clothes back on. It seemed that her slacks buttoned more easily than they had this morning. She stared at the box.

  Nah. No way.

  Out in the van Sam set the wooden box on the passenger seat and thought of the attorney in New York. What was she going to do about that?

 

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