“Still no recollection of your past, though?”
“Not a thing beyond what I’m doing right now. I felt a real understanding of the chocolatier’s process while I was watching last night’s program.”
“Maybe we could play Twenty Questions,” Becky said from the worktable, where she was forming sugar flowers for a bridal shower cake. “One of us might ask a question that would help you remember.”
Sam sent Becky a look, knowing this was her way of testing Jane, but since she was also keen to learn where Jane belonged she smiled encouragement toward the visitor.
Jane seemed hesitant. “Well, I suppose …”
“Kids. Do you think you have any children?”
Jane spun toward Becky. “What kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t remember my own children? That’s a cruel question.”
Sam held out both hands. “Look, we don’t have to do this now. I’m sure Becky was only trying to help you remember things. It isn’t about your fitness as a mother or wife or anything like that. Becky?”
“Sorry, Jane. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Sometimes I feel more like a mother than an employer to this bunch. Sam looked toward Jane again. “If you think going through some questions would be helpful, we’re happy to do it. If not, we’ll drop the subject.”
“Maybe later. I don’t want to lose my concentration on the chocolate.”
Good answer. There weren’t enough roasted cocoa beans to start over. And the order was an important one.
“When it’s tempered, go ahead and mold it,” Sam told Jane. “I’m going out for the other ingredients.”
Getting away from her shop had never been a priority for Sam but this week, with whatever was going on between Becky and Jane, it was a relief to walk out into the frosty September morning and leave it all behind for awhile. She put her van in gear and headed toward the nearest supermarket. Her phone chimed as she was pulling into the lot, Beau’s name showing on the screen.
“Hey there,” he said. “I got away so early this morning I didn’t want to wake you.”
A gesture that was always appreciated.
“Just wondering if your friend Jane said anything about her evening. Rico said no one came or went all night.”
“She said she watched a show about chocolate. Her comment on the room itself was less than enthusiastic. That’s about it.”
“The hotel records don’t show any phone calls in- or out-bound, and she doesn’t have a cell phone that we’re aware of.”
Sam thought of the missing evening when Jane’s whereabouts were unaccounted for. She could have made it to Walmart and picked up a prepaid phone.
With what money?
Good point.
“So,” Beau was saying, “I don’t see much point in tying up a deputy’s time to keep an eye on her. It’s not as if she’s committed any crime.”
“True. I’ll keep watching and listening at the shop. I did tell you she’s working for me this week? She knows a lot about chocolate, so that’s another clue from her past in case you’re still going through missing-person reports.”
It was a blatant hint, she knew, one she couldn’t hold him to, since he was short-handed and had a much more important case to work.
“Meanwhile, I’m at Smith’s. If you can imagine what you’d like for dinner tonight, I’ll pick it up now.”
A little discussion back and forth and they decided to go with leftovers they already had at home. Sam locked the van and grabbed a shopping cart. Thirty minutes later she walked back into Sweet’s Sweets to find Jane spooning molten chocolate into some of her standard-shaped molds.
“I figured I could get these started,” she said. “An idea came to me. I can pipe little kittens on some of these, and I think I’ll start the figures of modeling chocolate while they set.”
“Looks good to me.” Not since she’d hired Julio had Sam been able to completely turn over a project to a new employee without quite a lot of training. She unpacked the grocery bags, happy she’d found the Pop Rocks candy, and set everything out for Jane to access.
Jane had already set aside the filled molds and was beginning to mix up a batch of buttercream filling, which could be flavored in a dozen different ways. Sam watched for a minute or two and decided her supervision wasn’t really necessary.
The six-tier wedding cake to be loaded with autumn flowers still awaited her attention. It called for swags on the uppermost two tiers, ribbons and beading on another and the huge bottom tier covered in solidly packed sugar flowers, the ones Becky had made earlier in the week. One by one, Sam brought the tiers from the walk-in fridge and began assembling them, making sure to brace everything with extra doweling and platforms. These monster cakes always got tricky. Tomorrow, she would have to recruit some help to get it to her van and set up at the wedding venue. Note to self: call Kelly or Zoë before this day gets much farther along. Zoë’s husband, Darryl, was always good when muscle power was involved.
With two extra-large pastry bags full of ivory buttercream, she began piping the details. It went smoothly as she hit her stride, and she stuck with it until her shoulders ached. Needing a short break from that, she picked up her daily stack of order forms, browsing to see which were most urgent, still having the nagging thought that she’d forgotten something important.
It probably went back to last night’s conversation with Beau and the interviews with his suspects. Somehow, a vital fact had gotten past her. That had to be it. She would call him as soon as she thought of it.
By noon, Becky had finished the bridal shower cake and two for birthdays, Sam had the massive cake for three hundred about half done, and Jane’s progress on the chocolates was impressive. Julio, surrounded by bustling women, kept his head down and the bake oven cranking out cake layers alongside the cookies and brownies for the afternoon crowd. When Beau phoned to see if Sam wanted to break away for lunch she rubbed her aching shoulder and agreed. They met in the parking lot at Wendy’s.
“I’ve already been through the drive-up,” Beau said. “Got you a spicy chicken sandwich. Is that okay?”
“I love it. The perfect romantic lunch date.” She squeezed into the passenger seat of his cruiser, edging aside the radio equipment and a computer screen which was a recent addition to the department’s journey into the twenty-first century.
“Detective Taylor is driving up from Albuquerque tomorrow afternoon. Zack Robinet’s funeral is Monday morning and Taylor wants to be here for it. I told him he could stay in our guest room. Hope that’s okay with you. I guess his department is hassling anybody who wants to do out-of-town travel and he’d have to pay for his own room.”
Sam squeezed a dab of ketchup onto a pair of fries. “Sure. I’ve got to go into the shop and deliver a huge wedding cake in the morning. Afterward, I could plan something nice for dinner. What do you think—chicken or steak?”
“I suspect Taylor is a steak guy. Either one would be a treat. I don’t know whether he’s married or not, maybe he cooks for himself.”
“So, the funeral will go ahead even without Zack’s wife? That seems odd.”
“His parents are insistent on their need for closure. I’ve talked to them twice now and get the feeling there’s no love lost on the daughter-in-law. Zack’s father as much as said he was sure she’s been cheating. Dammit—” He wiped at a spot of mayo on his chest. “Now I’ll have to change ties. Anyway, from the lack of info on her whereabouts, it could be true. Could be she’s gone off with her lover and, if she heard about Zack’s death, may decide never to come back.”
“Wow—cold. They have a son, don’t they?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m being so cynical. It’s probably Kent Taylor’s calloused attitude rubbing off on me. You’re right. Surely, Mrs. Robinet will contact her son as soon as she learns the news.”
Sam finished her sandwich in silence, thinking about what he’d said.
“There could be a hundred reasons for a woman to run off and have no c
ontact with her kid,” he said. “For all we know, she has contacted him and we just don’t know it. I get the feeling the kid’s story was a little shaky. I’ll learn more about Taylor’s interviews with the boy when he gets here.”
He balled up his paper sandwich wrapper and shoved it into the bag, along with the few fries he hadn’t eaten.
“Meanwhile, I’m trying to keep the department together with half my deputies. Rico came back yesterday but he’s still looking peaked and another guy came down with the bug. It hits hard in the stomach and digestion and I really don’t want to catch this thing.”
“Don’t share food with them and be sure to wash your hands about eight dozen times a day,” she advised with a laugh. “I know, I know. I sound like a mom now.”
“Trust me, darlin’, you don’t want to get it either. So, on that note, I better send you back to work and get myself out there to write tickets.”
He kissed Sam on the cheek and she took the paper sack of trash with her, dropping it into a receptacle before climbing back into her van. Back at the bakery, she washed up and surveyed the cake-in-progress.
“It’s coming along beautifully, Sam,” said Becky, coming back from the fridge with her final project of the day.
Jane piped up: “Yes, that’s an amazing pastry.”
Her own chocolates were sitting in neat little rows; truffles with the hazelnut and Pop Rocks filling now sported cute little kitty faces. The package with the new molds had come while Sam was gone. Jane had already washed them and brought one over to show Sam which of the variety of shapes she thought would best fit the customer’s request.
“If I put pointy ears on this one that’s supposed to be a puppy, I think we can modify him to become a cat, don’t you think?”
It looked a little tricky but Sam told her to go ahead and try one or two as examples and see how the idea worked out.
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask for big chocolate cats,” Becky said, “like those bunnies we always make at Easter.”
“You have molds for hollow rabbits?” Jane asked. A thoughtful look crossed her face. “I could maybe do something with that, another modification, a sort of grand finale to top off the whole thing.”
Sam felt herself wavering. The man had requested boxed chocolates. Would he think a big chocolate cat a little too hokey for his elegant surprise? She suggested that Jane start with the small molds first and see how they turned out.
“We have until the end of next week. There’s time to play around with ideas.”
She noticed Jane perked up with the knowledge she would be working a few more days. More dollars out of pocket to keep the so-so motel room paid for, but judging by Jane’s work so far, it was proving to be well worth the expense.
Sam turned her attention back to the massive cake covered with the autumn flowers. As Becky said, it was coming along well, but a lot of work remained. She brought out the sugar paste flowers Becky had made earlier in the week and began placing them, beginning with the lowest tier where she set the blossoms tightly together, balancing tones of burnt orange, yellow, red and vermillion. As she finished each quarter of the surface she stepped back to get the overall picture, squinting to be sure the colors blended perfectly.
“Sam?” Jen stepped in from the sales room. “We’re nearly out of everything up front and it’s an hour to closing. Shall I add something?”
“No, that’s okay. Let’s close a little early, give everyone some extra time at home.”
Julio was already washing mixing bowls and pans at the deep sink, his last set of cake layers now on the cooling racks.
“Get all the cooled items into the fridge and close out the register.”
“There’s a birthday cake to be delivered this afternoon,” Becky said. “I can take it on my way home.”
Jane was intently focused on a pastry bag with a miniature decorating tip, piping tiny green eyes onto one of the molded kitty shapes. “I can stay if you need me,” she said.
“No, that’s okay. We have five days next week to get the chocolates done. I’m really impressed with all you accomplished today.”
Surprisingly, Becky offered to give Jane a ride to her motel since it was on the way to the birthday cake delivery address. Well, well, Sam thought. Maybe those two have worked out their differences after all. One by one, the employees left and Sam stood back from her creation to see how it was coming along. Times alone like this reminded her of the old days when she baked and decorated at home, solitude feeding her creativity. Sometimes she forgot that the trade-off for having help in the business was that the added energy in the room often zapped her own reserves.
She added a few unusual touches, little flourishes here and there, leaves to complement the spectacular flowers, and decided to call it good. Carefully removing the top two tiers at the spacer platforms she stashed them in the fridge, then moved the large tier in on a wheeled cart. With everything safely stowed and her tools put away, she hung up her jacket and locked the back door behind her.
Kelly’s day at Puppy Chic had ended a couple of hours ago and Sam decided to give her a call.
“Hey, how’s it going? Another big date tonight?”
“Not tonight. I am taking a purely personal evening to do my own mani-pedi, soak in the tub and read a good book.”
Mr. Mysterious not available on a Saturday night?
Sam brought herself back to the reason she had called. “I have a huge cake delivery tomorrow and could use some help. I’d ask Beau, and I’m sure he would do it, but with his job he could get a call at any moment and I’d be stuck.”
“Sure, Mom. Anytime.”
“I can stop by and pick you up around ten. It really shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes, but allow an hour. I mean, in case you have other plans.”
“Nothing on my schedule but, um, let me just meet you at your shop. I can get groceries and run a few errands while I’m out.”
Kelly still sounded very mysterious but at least they had a plan.
Chapter 12
Kelly didn’t seem to have a care in the world when she greeted her mother the next morning, and Sam chided herself for becoming such a busybody. It wasn’t as if she had no other concerns to fill her days. Together, they wheeled the heavy cake out to Sam’s van and placed the tiers carefully in the spotlessly clean cargo area, securing everything with blocks of Styrofoam.
“I swear, these big cakes get heavier all the time,” Sam said, puffing a little as she closed the door.
Kelly wasn’t even breathing hard. “Well, Mom,” she teased. “Maybe it’s time to admit you’re getting a little older.”
“That, I will never concede.” Not as long as I have Beau keeping me young. She flushed a little at the memory of their early morning lovemaking. Can’t very well quiz Kelly about her love life, can I?
Little conversation took place during the short trip to the wedding venue, the ballroom of the town’s classiest hotel, which was probably the only indoor spot in Taos large enough to handle the crowd that would devour this cake. The kitchen delivery entrance was around back, not nearly far enough from a fenced enclosure full of garbage dumpsters. Sam commandeered a rolling cart and they loaded the two sections of cake as quickly as possible.
Fortunately, by the time they reached the ballroom they were surrounded by flowers and candles, and her prize confection was safe. The cake table stood ready for its centerpiece attraction, for which Sam felt thankful. It always unnerved her a little to deliver a cake and rely on hotel personnel to set it in place. Way too many things could go wrong.
Within twenty minutes, she and Kelly had assembled the tiers, put spare flowers in place to hide the seam where the tiers met, and arranged the other table decorations to highlight their masterpiece. Ready for “here comes the bride.”
Back in the van, Sam noticed Kelly’s nails. “I like your manicure. All spiffed up for another big date?”
“Thanks, but, Mom, I’m not telling you anything about my new gu
y. Not yet. I have no idea whether this will last and, well, he’s kind of shy.”
A picture of the very-quiet Julio came to mind. Could effervescent Kelly be interested in a man who was always on the gruff side? Sam could see long-term compatibility issues.
“Is it someone I know already? Someone who’s worried I might not approve?”
“Not telling.”
“Someone who is a lot older or a lot younger?”
“Not telling.”
“Somebody famous? Everyone in the country would know if they saw you out together?”
“Not telling.”
“Kel, is he married?”
“Mom, no! I’ve got better sense than that!”
They were back at Kelly’s car, and she turned with a smile toward her mother. “If things are still going well in a couple weeks, I’ll have everyone over for dinner or something.”
She gave Sam’s hand a quick squeeze and got out of the van, giving a tiny wave before getting into her little red convertible.
It has to be Julio, Sam thought as she drove back out to the ranch. He, too, had been a little secretive around Sam. He was someone she knew, although not exactly what most mothers would imagine for a long-term relationship with an only daughter. He was a nice enough man, although the tattooed, biker packaging left room for the need to adjust one’s attitude. Sam supposed she could do that. For now, she had an overnight guest to cook for.
She stopped at her favorite market at the north end of town and selected three nice filets, three potatoes and some salad greens. Nothing pleased men like a meat and potatoes meal, and this one should do it.
She spent the rest of the afternoon tidying the guest room and bath for Kent Taylor’s arrival, dusting the furniture and vacuuming. Not that a police detective was likely to judge her on those things, but it was a pretty sure bet an observant one would notice. Besides, when else would she find the time to do any cleaning? The reward at the end of her little frenzy was a long soak in a hot bath.
A little after four o’clock Sam heard the dogs woofing softly from the front porch. A glance outside showed Beau’s cruiser coming up the driveway, followed by a plain white sedan that had to be Taylor’s city-issued vehicle. The detective wore an open-necked polo shirt and the same rundown sports jacket as the first time she’d met him. The lines around his eyes seemed a little less tired this time and he gave her a smile and a bottle of wine when she stepped out on the porch to greet him.
Sweets Forgotten (Samantha Sweet Mysteries Book 10) Page 10
