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

by Shelton, Connie

  She gave in to the luxury of leaning into his warmth for a full two minutes. How was it that he read her so well?

  Beau went downstairs, where he greeted the dogs in his gentle voice, and she heard the back door open and close. She picked up her jewelry box from her end of the long dresser and held it close for a minute. As always, the surface warmed to a golden glow and the small cabochon stones of red, green and blue began to sparkle. Energy—give me the energy to get everything done today.

  The wedding checklist was on the kitchen counter and she scanned it while the coffee brewed, scratching through a couple of things she’d already done, leaving Beau a note about helping Zoë and Darryl with the rented tables and chairs.

  At Sweet’s Sweets Julio’s Harley and Becky’s minivan were already there when Sam drove up. Bless them. The smell of cinnamon and sugar greeted her, and she was pleased to see trays of scones and muffins already on the cooling racks.

  “What are you doing here?” Becky asked when she spotted Sam.

  “I’m not staying long. Figured I would put the finishing touches on my cake, since you’ve got your hands full with regular orders. After that, I have a few things to do.” She held up the list, which now ran two pages long with only a third of the items crossed off.

  Jen walked in as Becky was shaking her head over the enormity of it.

  “And this is a simple wedding, right?” she said.

  “Way simpler than most,” Sam agreed.

  “My mom did a lot of the planning for me,” Becky said. “I was so young and all I knew was that I wanted a fantasy wedding. At least Mom had a clue how much they could afford to spend on it which, with two other girls coming along after me, wasn’t much.”

  Sam rolled her eyes at the thought of the extravaganza Nina Rae would have put together.

  “Well, I better get the front door open,” Jen said, picking up a tray of cinnamon rolls moments after Julio had finished spreading them with glaze.

  Sam put her list on her desk and went to the fridge where she picked up the fondant-covered tiers and carried them to the worktable. Adjusting her mindset—from harried to creative—she began piping complex scrollwork. In the background she was aware of the front door opening and closing, Jen greeting customers, her quiet voice as she made suggestions and rang up sales. Sam settled into a peaceful place, savoring the work and the smoothly running business she had created.

  She finished the piped garland and the rows of precise gold dots that added finesse to the edges where the tiers met, and had just begun to trim rolled fondant into lengths for the ribbons that would drape from top to bottom—casually elegant.

  “Sam?” Jen stood just inside the curtained doorway. “That man is back. Jake. What shall I tell him?”

  How about, go away. This isn’t a good time. But there wasn’t really going to be a good time, when it came to Jake Calendar. And Sam couldn’t leave it up to Jen to get rid of him. She would need to do that herself.

  She sighed. “I’ll be out shortly. Give him a muffin or something.”

  The last of the muffin disappeared into Jake’s mouth when Sam walked into the sales room two minutes later.

  “Jake. You’re back.”

  “Yeah. How’s everything going?” He shifted his weight to the other foot. “I enjoyed spending time with Kelly the other night.”

  A customer came in and Sam nodded toward the door, indicating that she’d rather take the conversation outside. They stood on the sidewalk under the purple awning that shielded Sam’s display windows from the morning sun.

  “Kelly came home somewhat upset,” Sam said.

  “I like that about you, Sammy. You’re so protective.”

  “Damn right.” She fixed him with a firm mama-bear stare.

  “Look, there really wasn’t anything to get upset about. I tried calling her afterward. I don’t know what set her off.”

  “Really? Making a scene on the street in her hometown wasn’t worth getting her blood pressure up, just a little?”

  “That was dumb. I shouldn’t have yelled at the guy. It’s just, you know. In this business you get hit on by wannabe no-counts all the time. I didn’t want him interrupting my time with my little girl. I was hoping to have a great evening with Kelly and that she would have so much fun she would suggest that you and I make up, maybe see more of each other . . .”

  Seriously? Hadn’t they already been over this ground?

  She thought of Vic Valentino—a little ‘out there’ and somewhat humorous in his intensity, but everyone deserved a little respect. Jake didn’t have to humiliate the man.

  “Jake. It’s not happening. We meant a little something to each other once. A very long time ago. I haven’t even thought about you in years.”

  “You don’t even have some fond memories of me?” The blue-green eyes sparkled, reminding her for a tiny moment what she’d found appealing about him.

  She shook her head. “My life is full and happy now. I’m getting married tomorrow.”

  “I’d like to come, to bring you a gift.”

  “No, Jake. Go on back to California and have a great life.”

  “Sammy, Sammy, have a heart. We mean something to each other. We had a baby.”

  Don’t play that card, Jake, don’t even go there.

  “I’d like to have you and Kelly in my life.”

  She felt her temper start to rise. “No! Jake. We did not have a baby. We had a hot little fling more than thirty years ago. I had a baby. I gave birth, I was up all those nights when she cried, and I practically slept through my series of crappy jobs during the day while I struggled to earn enough to feed her and send her to school and afford braces.”

  “You never told me about her. I would have helped.”

  “With what? You drifted. You told me the stories, back then, how you loved working a job until you had enough money to leave, how you never stayed one place long enough to grow roots or let some woman tie you down. It was a matter of pride, Jake, and you weren’t going to change your ways because of me or a baby.”

  “But, Sam, a baby changes everything.”

  “That’s a song title, Jake. And yes, it changes almost everything. But not you. You would have never stuck with us.”

  “She’s my daughter, Sam.” The blue-green eyes turned pleading and Sam felt her temper rise.

  “One sperm does not a father make. Aside from your eyes and your hair, she’s got nothing in common with you,” she said through clenched teeth. “She’s a grown woman now. Older and more mature than the ‘I’m just reliving my youth’ chickie you had on your arm the other day.” She started to turn away.

  “Don’t you feel like you owe me a little something for all the years I missed out on?”

  Owe me? That’s what this was really all about.

  “Owe you what?”

  “A little birdie says you’ve come into some more money, Sammy. Nice little lady last night talking in the hotel bar with her husband, going on about how wasn’t it romantic that the kids were getting this trip to Ireland for their honeymoon? Wasn’t it fantastic that Samantha got that inheritance? It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it was you she was talking about.”

  Her expression froze.

  “Sammy, I want you to meet our producer, Tustin Deor. Come on, you got the money from selling that art book.”

  How did he know about that? He must have researched quite a lot before he uncovered that fact. The thought chilled her.

  “Sammy, that thing had to go for at least a million. And now there’s more. You gotta be rolling, baby.” He reached for her hand but she pulled back.

  He thought she’d gotten a million dollars for Pierre Cantone’s book of sketches? It wasn’t even close to that.

  “Tustin will be in town this weekend, just for a day, scouting talent, getting things finalized to go live with the show.”

  “I’m leaving on my honeymoon. And I don’t care about your show.”

  “Sammy—”
>
  She caught a dangerous glint in his eye.

  “Don’t you dare do anything to mess that up for me. Get out, Jake. Don’t you show up at my wedding—I don’t even want to see you hanging around Taos, and I sure don’t want to hear your sleazy ideas or how bad you’ve got it financially. Get a job, a real job, and do what everyone else does. Save your money.”

  She felt a little twinge of guilt. She hadn’t exactly earned the money to start her bake shop. The famous artist’s sketchbook had come as a nice reward for solving a murder. But she’d been on the job when it happened, and she’d put her life in danger to find answers. And the inheritance . . . she still had no idea what that might consist of. The two windfalls had merely come at convenient times in her life.

  Jake stared at her. He’d picked up her thoughts just now, spotted that vulnerable little place inside her. His opportunistic little mind went to work, she could tell. He would never leave her alone as long as he thought she had some money.

  “Maybe I’ll touch base again, after you’re back from your trip,” he said with a devious little smile.

  “Don’t even think about it. Leave me alone, or else.” She turned on her heel and yanked the door open. How on earth was she ever going to get rid of him?

  Chapter 8

  Her heart rate had accelerated to that of a hummingbird and Sam felt her face flush as she stomped back into the bakery. She crossed the sales room without meeting Jen’s eye and flung back the curtain to the kitchen. Picking up the pastry bag she’d set aside earlier, she found that her hands were shaking too badly to work. Piece of crap Jake. He shows up wanting to make me feel guilty because I won’t give him money? I’m not buying into that. She blew out a puff of air and picked up one of the fondant ribbons to place it on the cake. Her eyes welled up and she couldn’t see what she was doing. A tear plopped onto the yellow fondant.

  “Sam, what is it?” Becky asked softly.

  Sam dabbed her sleeve at her eyes. When she focused again she saw that Jen had stepped into the kitchen.

  “Don’t let him upset you, Sam,” she said gently.

  Julio held a spatula, like an armed warrior ready to do battle for her.

  “Look, everyone, it’ll be fine. I will be fine. Probably just a case of bridal jitters.”

  “Sam, this isn’t about the wedding,” Jen said. “That guy has been here to see you twice now, and he’s left you upset both times. Who is he?”

  Sam laid down the fondant ribbon and took a deep breath. “He’s Kelly’s father.”

  She swore a collective gasp went up, but it was more likely just her imagination.

  “Jake Calendar is his name. I knew him a whole lot of years ago when I worked at the pipeline camp in Alaska. We were young, a flirtation led further, and well . . . When I found out I was pregnant I left the job and came here. He knew nothing about Kelly until this week, and it’s had everybody a little upset. I suppose I should have told the two of them earlier but I didn’t and that’s just the way it is.”

  “Does Kelly . . .?”

  “I don’t think she wants him around, but that’s for her to decide. He wants money for a business scheme and I just want him to quit asking me for it.”

  “I could call some guys I know,” Julio said. “You know, scare him a little.”

  “No! I don’t want any trouble over this. Really, everyone. It’s nice of you to worry about me, but he’ll go away. Once the wedding is over and I’m away on my honeymoon, this will all seem very silly. I’m just stressing too much over everything.”

  “It’s easy to do right before you get married,” Becky said.

  She launched into a tale of how upset she got because her party favors had come in the wrong color and there was no time to send them back, and it took Sam’s mind off her own little drama. She drank a glass of water and went back to her cake.

  Thirty minutes later she announced, “All we have to do is put the sugar flowers in place right before we take it to Zoë’s in the morning.”

  “It’s definitely the best cake you’ve done,” Becky said, pausing in her own work to circle the near-finished piece and admire it. “I love the beading, the piping, the elegant draping. The flowers will top it off perfectly.”

  Jen came in to pick up a tray of brownies Julio had just finished. “Oh my god, Sam, this is gorgeous. I love the fall colors. Everyone is going to go crazy for it—it’s perfect!”

  Sam glanced up at the clock. “Oh gosh. Speaking of everyone I’m supposed to be having lunch with the ladies. I’ve got to get out of here or I’ll never hear the end of it. Can you guys put the cake into the fridge for me?”

  In the bathroom she switched her baker’s jacket for a clean blouse and grabbed up her pack and keys. Missing this luncheon was not an option, as her mother had talked for days before they arrived about how much fun it would be for all the girls to get together. Plus, Sam had some fences to mend. Kelly had to work because her boss, Riki, had jury duty, and Rayleen wasn’t in town yet so it would be Sam, the aunts and her mother. She drove toward the plaza where Aunt Bessie was to be waiting in front of the hotel.

  “Good morning, dear,” Bessie greeted when Sam pulled up to the curb in her colorful bakery van. Bessie’s blond hair was perfectly styled, as usual, and her blue eyes showed no hint of Nina Rae’s little snit from the night before. “You look very rosy today.”

  Was the altercation with Jake still showing on her face? Sam glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. Deciding her aunt was merely being nice, she shoved the rest of her concerns aside.

  “I worked on my cake this morning. It’s nearly finished,” she said as she navigated her way around the plaza square and out into traffic.

  “Oh—I can’t wait to see it. Sam, you’re going to be a beautiful bride.”

  It was one of those things everyone said to every bride. But it was nice to hear it. She reached over and squeezed Bessie’s hand.

  The restaurant was only a few blocks away, a place chosen by Nina Rae. Sam had never eaten there but knew of it by reputation and because she’d delivered cakes to the back door on a few occasions. Nina Rae, Lily and her cousin Willie stood in the tiny lobby, along with a surprise.

  “I asked Zoë to come, dear,” Nina Rae said. Her mouth still held a bit of the miffed expression she’d worn last night.

  Sam sent Zoë a quizzical glance and got a small shrug of shoulders in reply.

  “Mother, could we—?” Sam tilted her head toward the exit. Without waiting for a response she placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder and steered her to the door.

  “Be right back,” she said quietly to Zoë.

  Outside, she led Nina Rae to a shaded spot a few feet from the door. A light breeze ruffled her hair.

  “Okay, say it.” She faced her mother. “Is it this business about that inheritance?”

  Nina Rae’s shoulders stiffened.

  “Because I don’t know that I’m getting anything at all, other than a plane ticket. If it turns out to be something valuable you know I’ll share it with Rayleen. Probably with Willie too. But what if it turns out to be a property that has a lot of expenses? Does everybody want a share of those?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer.

  “Mother, this week is supposed to be happy for me. Can we let unanswered questions rest, at least until we know what’s involved? Please?”

  “Why, Samantha Jane, of course I want this week to be a happy one. I don’t know why you would think otherwise.” At least the tight lines around her mouth had relaxed.

  “Good.” Sam glanced toward the door. “Let’s go join the others.”

  Back in the restaurant’s lobby she sent a subtle thumbs up to Zoë and Zoë returned a small wink just before they were shown to their table. White linens at lunchtime, full place settings, two crystal glasses at each place. Sam began to think she should have dressed up a little more, but then glanced at her cousin. Willie, the girl who was more comfortable on a horse than in a restaurant, any resta
urant, was staring in dismay at the array of table finery.

  “Willie, you’ll have to come out to our place and visit the horses again,” Sam said, taking a seat beside her cousin. “I think they miss you.”

  Willie smiled and visibly relaxed.

  “So, Samantha Jane, when am I going to see your beautiful wedding dress?” Nina Rae asked from the other end of the table.

  Sam pictured the zipper, not yet fully closing, and reminded herself to go by and try it on again. It was getting to now-or-never time. If the thing didn’t fit today, she would have to rush it over to Rupert’s friend and beg for a mercy alteration.

  “Nina Rae, you know it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding,” Lily said.

  “Oh, sis, don’t be silly. That’s for the groom. Certainly not for me.”

  “The cake is nearly ready,” Sam said, putting a bright little note into her attempt to change the subject. “I think you’ll love it, Mother. All the autumn colors you like so well.”

  That sent the discussion off to the subject of what everyone else was wearing, which got them through ordering their meals and the delivery of beverages to the table.

  “Now, Samantha, I want you to let me know how I can help. I feel like I haven’t done a thing to get you ready for this, and I can’t believe you handled all of it without a wedding planner.”

  “I think it’s all under control, Mother.” Sam’s teeth ground together. She was in middle school again, with her mother’s reminders about her homework every single night. She forced herself to relax.

  “The bouquets?”

  Sam saw her chance for a peace offering. “Oh gosh. Maybe you could pick them up in the morning? I’ll give you the directions.”

  That netted a smile.

  “And your photographer? Will he be there on time?”

  “We’re keeping that informal. Rupert is an excellent photographer and he’ll take most of the photos. But anyone who wants to snap away can certainly join in. The more the merrier when it comes to pictures, right?” Sam turned to Zoë for a lifeline.

  “Darryl is putting disposable cameras on all the tables.”