“Well, Bubba, I seem to remember the bag of cash was actually found by Rupert Penrick, who, along with R.G., turned it in.”
“That fag don’t need no reward money.” He caught Beau’s sharp stare. “Sorry. I mean gay man. One look at him and you know he ain’t hurtin’ for money.”
And you are? But he only said, “The man’s personal life, including his financial status, has no bearing on whether he gets a reward or not.” He took a sip of his coffee and met Bubba’s eager stare evenly. “Besides, the reward is offered for the return of the stolen money and information leading to the arrest and conviction of the perpetrators. Seems to me the young person who carried the duffle bag in here most likely knows something about that. Has he been back since that morning?”
Bubba shook his head, looking like a dog who’s just been chased away from the food bowl.
“That’s who I’d like to talk to,” Beau said, turning toward his plate of eggs as it arrived.
With no reward in sight and the sheriff intent on eating, Bubba got up, retrieved his mug and resumed his glad-handing tour of the tables.
Sandy rolled her eyes slightly toward her boss when she came around to top off Beau’s coffee.
“What about you? Seen the kid in black again?” Beau asked as she poured.
“I don’t think anyone has,” she said. “Strangest thing, isn’t it?”
He agreed, although privately thought it smart of the kid not to surface again where he’d been seen with the money. He was following that line of thinking when his shoulder radio crackled to life. He pressed the earbud in tighter, trying to catch Dixie’s words in the noisy restaurant. No use—all he caught was the 10-code for a vehicle collision. He took a final big munch on his last strip of bacon, left some bills on the counter and headed for the door.
Chapter 15
Sam woke with a start. It was light in the room and the clock said 9:23. She groaned. The whole purpose of using the box’s magic to energize her was to gain extra hours to accomplish her tasks, not merely shuffle the work from daytime to night, sleep late and have to work late again the next night.
She rushed through her shower and put on her bakery clothes before she remembered the long conversation last evening with Kelly. The decision to lease new space was still out there. The sooner she decided, the sooner she could proceed. Time was running short to get the candy-making moved before Halloween, but most certainly they had to be reorganized before Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Stick with things the way they are and they’ll be parking me in the loony bin, she thought as she poked through the pile of costume jewelry on the vanity, searching for a pair of earrings. I must have left the box in my pack last night.
She found her favorite silver hoops and tapped Beau’s number on her phone as she locked the front door and rushed to her van.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased. “Feel better now?”
“Ha ha. You were sleeping pretty darn soundly when I got home. And yes, I do feel better. I’ve got to check in at the shop and then I really do need to make a decision about rental space. Would you like to come along and see the options?”
“Normally, I’d be happy to do that, but we had a pretty bad pileup out near the gorge bridge this morning. I’m still at the scene and it’ll take awhile to sort it all out.”
Now he mentioned it, Sam could hear shouts and noise in the background. “Okay, talk later.”
She hung up, wondering about the situation with the robbery and the poor driver in the hospital. She’d missed the normal morning traffic and made the trip to Sweet’s Sweets in under ten minutes. Inside, Becky had moved the cooled chocolates aside to make enough space for the massive, tiered cake she was working on for the oil company CEO’s Halloween party. She gave Sam a pair of raised eyebrows and a somewhat impatient look.
“Sorry,” Sam said. “I meant to get here early and put all this away.”
“You must have worked all night to make this much,” Becky said, her expression softer now.
“Well, yeah. Just got on a roll, I guess.” Sam edged past the work area and pulled out a carton of the cream-colored satin boxes, a big packet of gold ruffled paper cups, and the orange and black ribbons, also for the costume party in Aspen.
Beginning at Becky’s worktable, she quickly picked up the chocolates and set them in place, paying close attention to quality—no drips or smudged ones for the client. Within an hour she’d boxed enough of the candy to clear her assistant’s table. The back door opened and a quick peek told her it was Kelly.
“Have you talked to that real estate lady again, Mom?” The anticipation on Kelly’s face was kind of cute.
“Haven’t had a spare minute yet today,” Sam said. “How about a quick hand here, if you’ve got a few minutes? Put on a pair of those plastic gloves and just follow along with what I’m doing.”
“Our next pup comes in at one o’clock so Riki took a long lunch.” Kelly picked up the gloves. “So …? You know I’m dying of curiosity,” Kelly said as they selected and boxed the candy, moving double-time now. “Which place are you going to choose?”
“I’m going to get Darryl’s advice before I say for sure. The big place seems like it would take a lot more work to get in shape.”
“But it’s so cool …” Kelly proceeded to describe the two rentals to Becky, giving heavy emphasis to the benefits of the Victorian over the squatty little commercial building (her words).
“Kel, you made some good points,” Sam said at the end of the little sales pitch, “but it comes down to cost and how quickly we can make the move. All of us here are in a constant struggle for elbow room and we have to split off the candy-making as soon as possible.”
Kelly looked around at the stacks of boxes, the litter of ruffled papers and the racks of chocolates still awaiting attention. “Guess I can’t disagree with that.”
“Speaking of which,” Sam said. “Keep going a minute while I make a couple calls.”
She pulled out her phone and called Darryl first.
“My crew is doing final cleanup on a kitchen remodel, so yeah, I could break away awhile. When? Now?”
“I’ll need to get the Realtor. Can I call you right back?” Sam looked at the table, estimating at least another hour of work, even with Kelly’s help.
She dialed Victoria Benson’s office anyway and was told Victoria was showing a property, but would be back in awhile.
“Well, that wasn’t very specific,” Sam grumbled. She went back to the candy, wondering what to tell Darryl. Her phone rang about five minutes later.
“Sam? Victoria here. Afraid I have some bad news. The commercial building we looked at yesterday—it’s been rented. A man I showed it to last week decided to take it.”
Well, sometimes fate just handed your decision to you on a platter.
“Okay, then. I need to take my contractor by the other one and get an estimate of what’s involved. He’s available in about an hour and we could run out there. Can we say I’m eighty percent sure?”
Kelly, catching the drift of the conversation from Sam’s end, was literally bouncing on her toes. Sam turned her attention back to the agent.
“… showing a house.” There was a little pause. “I could let you have the key and then plan to meet you later.”
“Perfect.” Sam clicked off the call with a flutter of mixed emotion.
Darryl said he would come by Sweet’s Sweets in an hour. Kelly actually shrieked when Sam gave Victoria’s news. Now Sam just had to hold her breath, cross her fingers, pray to the gods of good fortune … whatever it took to hope this project went off without a hitch.
Fifty minutes later, the last of the boxed chocolates went into shipping cartons as the front door bells jingled like crazy. Sam heard Victoria’s voice and walked into the sales room.
“Brought this by for you,” Victoria said, dropping a tagged key into Sam’s hand. “The front door is all I had with me, and I’m not sure if you’ll be able to get past
that tricky lock on the garage. I hope that’s okay?”
“We’ll be fine. Today, I mainly need the contractor to see the kitchen and those workrooms on the first floor so he can estimate what it’s going to cost to make the place ready for me.”
“I hope it works out for you. The owner will be so pleased to have a tenant in there after all this time,” Victoria said. “You know, the house belonged to a famous writer. It’s her granddaughter who’s trying to get the estate straightened out. Call me if you have any questions, any at all.” Victoria went outside and hopped into her sedan.
Sam pocketed the key and headed toward the kitchen when the bells tinkled again. This time is was Rupert.
“So, what’s this I hear about a move?” he asked, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.
“The candy business only,” she said loudly enough for the two customers to hear. “Everything here stays the same.”
He followed her into the kitchen chaos where the cartons of chocolates took up one whole wall.
“Whoa—I see what you mean about needing more space.”
“I’m on my way out to see the proposed location in a minute. Want to come along?”
“You should go, Rupert,” Kelly piped up, removing her plastic gloves as she headed toward the back door. “It’s fantastic. I’d go myself except I have a couple of dogs waiting for baths. Mom, you call me the very second you’ve signed the lease, okay?”
Rupert shrugged. “I suppose I could. Mainly, I stopped by to see if you knew how Beau’s search for the owner of that missing money is coming along.”
“Um, I—” Sam’s mind had been on so many other subjects recently, she’d nearly forgotten about Beau’s case. “How about you ride along with me and we’ll chat. I hear Darryl’s truck outside and I think he wants to hurry this along a bit.”
* * *
Darryl, Zoë and Rupert stood in the circular driveway at the old Victorian, necks craned, eyes staring upward.
“Oh my god,” said Zoë.
“It’s sure big,” said Darryl.
“It’s fantastic,” said Rupert.
Sam laughed. “Well, I guess that’s the full range of opinions.”
In the early afternoon light some things looked better and some things worse than on her first visit. The overgrown yard and peeling paint on the porch railing seemed shabbier than ever, however, the house itself was in better repair than she’d first thought. Granted, the blue-gray siding and white trim were somewhat faded, but at least the paint wasn’t peeling. A fresh coat all over would be in order if she were buying the place.
She brought herself up short. None of those thoughts allowed, she told herself. This was nothing but a rental and she dared not think any farther into the future than one year. If Mr. Bookman didn’t renew the contract, or if his hints of bringing in business from resorts and cruise lines didn’t pan out, she didn’t dare commit any real money to this project. For her current purposes, this would do.
Sam pulled the key from her pocket and led the way to the front door. Darryl gripped the porch railing, shaking it as he followed her.
“We could tighten this up a bit,” he said. “Simple enough. I don’t see any wood rot in it.”
He jotted a note on the yellow pad he carried. When the front door hinges squealed, Sam saw him add: WD-40.
“Ooh, sounds haunted,” Zoë said with a wink in Rupert’s direction.
Sam felt a shiver and rubbed her arms, telling herself it was just because they’d stepped out of the sunshine.
Darryl walked into the foyer, stared up at the stairway, turned to the parlor. Sam trailed along, noticing that he touched the door moldings and prodded various places on the walls as he went.
“I’m thinking both this parlor and the dining room across the hall could be good-sized workrooms,” she told him.
He nodded and pulled a couple of the old, peeling wallpaper strips.
“Kitchen is in here,” she said, essentially repeating the tour Victoria had given yesterday.
He stood in the doorway, chewing his lower lip, squinting a little as his eyes roamed the space. An occasional note got added to his list. In the middle of the room he stood up on his toes and bounced a few times.
“Hardwood floors seem stable enough,” he said.
“I think this maid’s room would work for storage,” she told him, leading the way. “We can keep our shipping boxes and tape, extra office supplies and such in here.”
She pushed on upstairs, where Zoë and Rupert had already made the rounds.
“Nice!” Rupert whispered as they passed in the upper corridor.
“For now, Darryl, I doubt I’d do much up here. I’ll use one or two of the rooms as offices. If things really pick up and I need to hire people to take orders, we would set up computers in here. So, mainly, as long as the electrical wiring can handle the load and we can get internet out here?”
Those considerations hadn’t even entered her mind until this minute.
He nodded slowly but didn’t say anything, only stared around each room as they entered it. Several times he did the floor test again, encountering a squeak here and there.
“So, aside from the carriage house, that’s the tour,” Sam said. “What do you think? Am I crazy even thinking about this?”
He looked at his notes for a minute.
“No, no it’s very doable,” he said. “Lots of cleanup. You’re in food preparation, so every cobweb, grease spot and speck of dust has to be gone. Well, you remember what all we did before you moved into your present shop. That place was a dustbin before you found it.”
She couldn’t disagree.
“I assume you’ll bring in your own commercial-grade stoves, refrigeration …”
She nodded. In fact, she could call the same fixture company and order everything as soon as they took some measurements.
“So, the main things I see here would be stripping wallpaper, painting walls with a good mold- and germ-resistant paint, thoroughly cleaning and sanitizing the floors in the food areas, making sure the wiring and plumbing is up to code. Gas is already piped to the kitchen, so we’d just have to be sure your new stove is properly connected.” He scribbled a few more things as he talked. “It’s actually a simpler job than what you described with the other location that needed partition walls with drywall and finishing.”
“Really?” Sam held her breath as she asked. “So … cost?”
“Let’s get measurements. You’ll need the kitchen dimensions for your appliances.”
They worked together a few minutes with a tape measure, both taking their own notes as the remodeling plan came together. While Darryl stayed back alone to wander and figure, she caught up with Zoë and Rupert out by the vehicles.
“I’m so glad Darryl was home for lunch and brought me along,” Zoë said. “I can see this yard, come summer, with colorful flowers in those rock beds. The trees out by the carriage house need pruning and some TLC but they’ll come around.”
Rupert’s eyes were taking in all the details and Sam had the feeling his next book might involve an old, haunted house.
Darryl came outside, again tugging at the front porch banisters before he motioned Sam over.
“Okay, here’s what I’ve got. The things I mentioned before … wallpaper, paint, floors … tightening up those porch railings and a new coat of floor paint on the porch and steps. Plumbing, electrical for the kitchen—you provide your own fixtures—and we’ll check that the electrical upstairs will work for your needs. It comes out to this,” he said, pointing to the figures he’d written on a clean page. “If you want to finish the upstairs bedrooms-slash-offices, we could add a little for that. I’d like to see the basement and test the heating system before starting renovations—just to be sure it’s in good shape.”
Excellent suggestion. Sam looked at the figures and hugged him. “You are way more than fair with me, you know. Are you sure this is enough?”
“Okay, throw in free muffins for the
crew while they’re here.”
“Buddy, you have free muffins for life!”
“Get the real estate lady out here and let’s test the heating. That checks out, I’d say you’re safe to sign the lease. My guys can start tomorrow and knock this thing out in a week, depending on when your appliances arrive.”
Sam felt her elation build as she dialed Victoria Benson’s number. By five o’clock, the conditions had been met and Sam was in Victoria’s office, signing on the dotted line. Very quickly, her life was taking another new turn.
Chapter 16
“It’s a lease with option to buy,” Sam told Beau when she stopped by his office after calling to see if he’d gone home yet. “I figure if Book It Travel renews the contract, which Mr. Bookman has already hinted at, I’m going to need this facility for awhile.”
Beau seemed subdued, she realized. “Rough day?”
“Yeah. On several levels. Started with a frustrating chase for leads in the armored car robbery—nothing new there—then this accident turned out to be really bad. Head-on collision, several fatalities, at least one of the drivers under the influence. Waiting for tests to come back but it looks like we’ll have vehicular homicide charges. Proving those cases means dotting all the i’s and crossing all the t’s.”
She put her lease papers away and stepped behind his chair to rub his shoulders.
“And then, wouldn’t you know it, a domestic disturbance turned ugly and I was nearest the scene so I got to spend part of the afternoon convincing this woman she really ought to get herself and her kids out of the house for their own safety. I understand her point—she’s the one caring for the three kids and wants to be in her home where all their stuff is. But this guy is a batterer and he refuses to leave.” He shuffled some paperwork aside. “Sorry, darlin’. You came in all excited about your new project and I did nothing but rain on your parade.”
“Beau, it’s fine. Your worries are life-and-death. Mine are chocolate, silly by comparison.”
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