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 5

by Shelton, Connie


  Kelly’s little red car pulled in beside the van and Sam powered down the window long enough to tell her daughter to have a good time. At dinner. With Jake. Although Sam felt a momentary pang at sharing with the newly discovered father, she put a smile on and hoped Kelly didn’t see her misgivings.

  She arrived home to find Beau’s Explorer parked beside the house but no sign of him or the dogs outside. The barn was closed up and the horses were grazing contentedly at the far end of the pasture. She gathered her belongings and went inside to be greeted enthusiastically by the border collie.

  “Hey, Nellie, how’s the girl?” Sam ruffled the dog’s coat and noticed that Beau had left the attorney’s letter on an end table. She headed upstairs to put the wooden box in a safe spot and change her clothes.

  At the head of the stairs she caught the scent of soap and a steamy shower. Beau emerged as Sam was studying her side of the closet for something to wear to dinner.

  “I got some background on that attorney, the one who sent the letter,” Beau said, toweling his hair dry. “The firm is legit and Clinton Hardgate has been licensed to practice in New York since 1968. They specialize in estates and wills, and have agreements in place with other firms around the world where estate matters involve parties in different countries. I was able to get that much from public records. When I spoke to Hardgate himself he confirmed that they work with a legal firm in Galway, but he will only give the particulars of your inheritance directly to you. Which makes sense. I’m glad to see he’s careful about such things. All you have to do is call him. Said he’ll be at his office until eight o’clock tonight, or all day tomorrow.”

  Sam thought about all of it while she showered and pulled on a dressy pair of slacks and one of her favorite blouses. It was still only five-thirty, so she dialed the number on the letterhead and pressed the extension that Beau had obtained directly to Hardgate’s line.

  “I was shocked to get your letter,” she said after introducing herself. “I had no idea there was an uncle in Ireland.”

  “Well, if you are the Samantha Sweet who was born in Cottonville, Texas, Terrance O’Shaughnessy was your uncle. You’ve verified the other information I have in my files, and based on that I’m authorized to cover airfare and hotel for yourself and a companion. Of course, you’ll have to present yourself at the offices of Ryan and O’Connor in Galway and show your identification, etcetera, before you’ll receive anything more than the travel expenses.”

  “Do you have any idea what the inheritance consists of? Not that it matters a lot, but I’m puzzled. Why me?”

  “Apparently, Mr. O’Shaughnessy was married but had no children. He planned to divide his estate among the children of his nieces, choosing one from each branch of the family. Unfortunately, your aunt, Lily Bowlin, never had children. I’m not clear on how the choice was made, but now it appears you are the sole heir.”

  This news probably wouldn’t go over well with her sister, Rayleen. Sam decided not to mention the possibility of money until she knew more about the whole situation. For all she knew the inheritance might consist of something equivalent to the wooden box she’d gotten from Bertha Martinez, a gift that Rayleen would find useless and, in her words, tacky.

  Hardgate continued: “The airline reservation is flexible. I simply chose a date randomly, but you can change that. I only need your passport numbers and full names. And I will contact Ryan and O’Connor, who will finalize all other arrangements in Galway for you.”

  Sam realized they were running late to pick up her parents and promised to get back to him with the information within a day.

  “You’re right about the letter being genuine,” she said to Beau as they walked out to his Explorer. “So, what do you think about changing our honeymoon plans and going to Ireland instead? Air and hotel all paid. And who knows what this mysterious inheritance might be?”

  “Maybe a big fat bank account, so we can both retire early.” He chuckled as he turned onto the road.

  “Maybe a smaller bank account, but we could still do some traveling?”

  “Maybe a title—do they have dukes and earls and such in Ireland?”

  “Maybe a castle!” She let her eyes light up at the outlandish thought.

  “Most likely it’s a vacation to Ireland and some kind of memento like a lucky shamrock.”

  “Which wouldn’t be so bad either,” she said. “Just FYI, let’s don’t say anything about any inheritance until we find out what’s involved. Hardgate said something about this uncle making a choice from among all the nieces on Mother’s side of the family. I’d hate to think about there being a big catfight over the leaves of some lucky clover.”

  Beau took a shortcut that avoided the tourist traffic around the plaza and pulled into the front parking area at Zoë and Darryl’s place. They went inside, where Sam found her mother wearing a fresh outfit, a purple dress in some crepe-like fabric. Her dad was chatting with Darryl about the price of two-by-four lumber these days.

  “Are you sure you guys won’t join us all for dinner?” Sam asked Zoë, even though she already knew the answer before Zoë shook her head.

  Nina Rae piped up: “We’ve spoken with Bessie and Chub, and they’re going to meet us at this place. I warned them it isn’t going to be Tex-Mex.”

  Beau laughed. “Not around here, it won’t. I hope everyone is up for authentic New Mexican food.”

  He placed a gentlemanly hand on Nina Rae’s elbow and the group headed for his vehicle. At the restaurant Bessie and Chub were standing in the vestibule of the converted Spanish hacienda, staring at the paintings and sculpture by local artists.

  Bessie, a quintessentially well-mannered Southern woman with a petite build, short blond hair and a sparkle in her blue eyes, greeted Sam with a warm hug. Her husband, Charles, looked more like Sam’s dad every year. Although he’d shed the nickname Chub in the outside world, the family had never quite dropped it. He stood quietly aside until the women finished their exclamations and Sam finally introduced him to Beau. By the ready smile that lit Beau’s face, she knew these two would hit it off well.

  “So, is this all of our group for tonight?” Howard asked.

  “I bet I’ve said this a hundred times, Howard,” said Nina Rae. “Lily and Buster and Wilhelmina will be coming in tomorrow. Rayleen and Joe Bob and the kids can’t get away until Thursday night but they’re driving straight on through and will get here Friday by noon.” She turned to the rest of the group. “Ya’ll aren’t going to believe how those grandsons of mine have grown.”

  Luis, their favorite waiter at Casa Benito, escorted them through a courtyard where petunias still bloomed in profuse clumps of purple and pink and water trickled down a stack of artfully arranged rocks into a small fishpond. He showed them to a table in a private room with windows overlooking the garden. Once assured that everyone was seated he took orders for beverages. Nina Rae, seated across from Sam, reiterated her warning—a little under her breath—that the food wouldn’t be their usual Texas versions of Mexican food. Sam noticed that even Bessie nodded a little impatiently.

  “Mother,” Sam said after their food orders had been taken and the others had started a conversation at their end of the long table, “I just heard that we had an uncle in Ireland. I never knew that.”

  “Well, I’m sure I’d told you about him. Terrance. Mother used to call him Uncle Terry when Lily and I were children. I remember him visiting us at the farm once. Gosh, I must have been only about seven or so. Lily was a baby, I’m sure of it.”

  “So you never really knew him, personally?”

  “When we were just little bitty, they used to send us little Irish gifts at Christmas. He and Aunt Maggie.” Nina Rae rolled her eyes upward, thinking. “Maggie must have passed on more than twenty-five years ago. Uncle Terry was actually younger than she was, I believe.”

  “But you hadn’t heard from him in recent years?” Sam asked.

  Nina Rae shook her head. “Not a word.”

&n
bsp; Their food arrived and the conversation turned to tastes and comparisons. Sam found herself intrigued by this unknown uncle and what his life must have been like. She’d ordered a simple bowl of chile stew and took her time spooning it up, trying to make herself feel full by imagining how her dress needed to fit. By the time the sopapillas with honey arrived for dessert, she managed to pass the basket along to Beau without feeling tempted by them. Almost not tempted.

  When she noticed her father stifling a yawn she suggested that they make it an early evening. No one disagreed, and they said goodnight to Bessie and Chub outside in the parking lot, then took her parents back to Zoë’s.

  “Okay, we need to find our passports so I can call Clinton Hardgate back first thing in the morning,” she said when she and Beau got home. “If he can still get flights for us the day after the wedding, I say let’s do it.”

  Beau found his documents easily enough in the very organized desk he kept in one corner of the great room. Sam spent nearly an hour rummaging through the boxes that she hadn’t quite unpacked yet, finally locating hers in a shoebox full of important papers that was labeled ‘White Sandals.’

  “Just think—Ireland—the Emerald Isle. I picture white sheep grazing, stone walls and adorable little cottages,” she told Beau as she placed the passports and letter on the kitchen counter where she would see them in the morning. “I’m really getting excited about this trip.”

  He pulled her close and rested his chin on top of her head. “Me too. But I’m more excited that we’re starting our life together.”

  “We’re good as a pair, aren’t we?”

  “We are that.”

  He kissed her hair, then her temple, and was aiming for her mouth when her phone buzzed.

  “Woo! Is that a vibrator in your pocket or are you just happy—”

  She laughed and checked the readout. Kelly. “I better see what’s going on.”

  “I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” he said, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

  “Kel? Everything okay?”

  “Oh, god, Mom. What a disaster.”

  Sam’s heart skipped. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

  “No, no. I’m fine.” A huge sigh. “It’s just . . . Are all men such jerks?” At least her tone was no longer aloof.

  “Kel, you know they aren’t.” Sam settled into a corner of the sofa. “You want to talk about it?”

  Another sigh.

  “Grab yourself a Coke or something and tell me. Well, if you want to.”

  Kelly mumbled something and then Sam heard the metal tab on a soda can.

  “First off, it was really a little shocking to meet his date. Mom, she was younger than me!”

  Evie. Sam remembered the slender woman in her tight pink dress.

  “She reminded me so much of all those girls out in L.A. Gorgeous but just about intelligent enough to string one sentence together. She hung on him as if I were competition. Ick! I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Well, to be fair, he’d already brought her on the trip before he knew anything about you,” Sam offered.

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s fifty-something, she’s about twenty. It’s gross.”

  “Yeah, I agree.”

  “Then he was just rude, Mom. Incredibly rude. This young guy showed up outside the hotel as we were leaving. He was sort of a nutcase himself, really. Dressed in some sparkly suit and he had a cake. It was a beautiful cake, and you probably made it because it was nothing he would have found on the shelf somewhere. So, okay, he gets Jake’s attention and hands him the cake, then he starts jumping around and dashing all over the place while singing—and I use that word very loosely—singing some horrendous song.

  “I found out later that Jake is with some kind of talent show for TV and figured out that this guy wanted a sort of advance audition, even though that definitely would not be the way to impress a judge, okay? But Jake didn’t even have the grace to be kind about rejecting the guy. He screamed at him to shut up, then he threw the cake down on the ground. I mean, people were stopping on the sidewalk—cars squealed their brakes. I felt humiliated. I can only imagine what that poor guy felt like.” She took a deep breath. “It was awful.”

  “So, did you go to dinner after all that?”

  “Jake linked arms with me and Evie and we went back inside the hotel and went to the restaurant there.”

  “So it got better after that?”

  “No! God, that was the thing. Between him bragging about all the people in Hollywood he knows and Evie practically crawling in his lap, I took about three bites of the appetizer and half my wine and said I wasn’t feeling very well. I got out. Was that awful of me?”

  “Leaving behind half a glass of expensive wine? What were you thinking?”

  Kelly started to laugh. “Leave it to Mom to put things in perspective. I’m better now. I came home and made myself a peanut butter sandwich. I’m having a shower and then I’m giving up on reality TV forever.”

  “Oh, no, not that! How will you live without it?” Sam dramatized her voice until Kelly began to howl.

  “Okay, not every show. But I’ll tell you, you won’t catch me watching You’re The Star. Never, ever, ever!”

  What was it with Jake Calendar? Charming one minute and losing his temper the next. If he couldn’t go out of his way just a little bit to make a special evening for his daughter, then neither of them would miss him in their lives.

  “Join us tomorrow night for steaks out here at the house. Most of the aunts and some of the cousins will be here. And, I’ll have an odd surprise to tell you about. Beau and I have changed our honeymoon plans.”

  Chapter 6

  Sam woke up well before her alarm went off, a vague dream of a small town in Ireland floating through her head after she and Beau had talked about the trip late into the night. She wondered how early Clinton Hardgate would arrive in his office.

  Dressing in her usual bakery attire—black slacks and a spotless white baker’s jacket with the store logo embroidered in purple—she left Beau peacefully sleeping and made her way downstairs. She started the coffee maker for him, gathered the passports and the lawyer’s letter, and headed toward town.

  Julio’s Harley sat outside the back door to Sweet’s Sweets and the scent of cinnamon rolls greeted her when she walked in.

  “You really got in early,” she said as she set the papers on her desk and reviewed the list of orders for the day.

  He nodded, murmured something about hoping to get away early, and turned back to the mixer where muffin batter was getting a good stir.

  Sam pulled the layers for her own cake out of the fridge, along with tinted fondant in creamy ivory and sunshine yellow. The design called for four tiers, alternating between pale tones and vivid autumn ones. The ivory fondant would cover the largest, bottom tier with wide burnt-orange hatbox stripes to add a touch of class.

  The next tier would be entirely covered in the dark orange, with scrolls of old-fashioned piping for a slightly Victorian flair. The third tier was to be a fantasy of sunny yellow with a garland of beads and baubles in autumn colors, and the fourth would cap it with a repeat of the striping—narrow pinstripes this time—and a cascade of autumn sugar flowers and burgundy ribbons.

  It was way too much cake for the small gathering of fewer than twenty-five guests, but this was something Sam had dreamed of for a long time and she wasn’t going to skimp with a tiny cake.

  She ran the fondant through the rolling machine and began placing and trimming it to fit the tiers. By the time Becky arrived, Sam had inserted the support dowels and together they began to stack tiers.

  “We’ll let this set up until tomorrow,” she told her assistant, “then we can do final assembly and still have a day to spare.”

  “Are you getting excited?” Becky asked.

  “I am. And wait ’til you hear the best part,” Sam said. “Our honeymoon plans have changed. Which reminds me, I need to make a call to the east coast and I’l
l bet this would be a good time.”

  They moved the cake into the walk-in fridge and Sam pointed out a couple of projects that Becky should get done soon, then she gathered the information she needed and placed the call to the attorney.

  “All set,” she told Beau on the phone a little later. “Sunday morning we’re on a flight out of Albuquerque to New York, then it’s direct to Shannon and we’ll be met by our own car and driver for the ride to Galway.”

  “I’m liking this being married to an heiress,” he said. “First class travel and limo service. I could get used to that.”

  She laughed. “Well, don’t get used to it too soon. We still have no idea how far this will go.”

  “Yeah, it’ll probably end up being some huge, drafty old castle.”

  “With heating bills that will bankrupt us.”

  She heard his intercom buzz in the background and they ended the call. She’d no sooner stuck her phone in her pocket than Kelly peeked in at the back door.

  “Things are pretty slow next door this morning,” she said. “Want to use the time to finish going over those properties?”

  Sam glanced around her. Julio and Becky had things well under control and she couldn’t imagine things would get any less busy in the next two days.

  “Perfect,” she said. “Let me grab my file.”

  She pulled open a desk drawer and picked out the folder listing her current USDA properties. Inside were details Kelly might need to know: contact information for Delbert Crow, her contracting officer, who’d already been notified that Sam would be away for two weeks; addresses of the three houses under her care; a procedures checklist Sam had written up, one she had planned to keep brief but which had grown each time she thought of some new thing to add.

  “You drive,” she said to Kelly. “I’m leaving you the keys to my truck so you have all the tools and yard maintenance gear. I doubt you’ll have to take on a new property. Delbert knows that I’m leaving town and there’s usually nothing so urgent that it can’t wait a little while. So, all you have to do is go by each of these three places about once a week and check them over.”

 

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