Spooky Sweet

by Connie Shelton

  Sam knew better than to question or distract him with her version of events. Already, the morning was surreal. She went inside, locking the door behind her, and found the kitchen was empty. Bobul had vanished again.

  Chapter 55

  “Bobul?” Sam called softly. No response.

  She walked through the boxing room, the foyer and shipping room, where Lisa had neatly organized supplies yesterday. No sign of the chocolatier. She went upstairs and peered into each of the spare rooms and her office in the turret room. Empty.

  Strange. Then again, Bobul had always been something of an oddity. Maybe the sight of the police cars had alarmed him. His grasp of English was a little tenuous. She knew nothing of his history. She supposed he could have ducked out the front door and escaped through the surrounding fields.

  Beau’s voice, magnified greatly through a bullhorn, brought her back to the reality of the unfolding drama outside. Through the window in the boxing room she saw deputy Walter in position behind his car, aiming a rifle toward the carriage house. Rico was nowhere in sight—she assumed he’d been told to circle the building and watch the rear. Beau, shielded by the open door of his cruiser, shouted again for the three men to come out.

  No response.

  Beau looked toward Walter. It would be foolish for the three of them to storm the building, knowing at least one of the suspects was armed and unsure about the other two. Sam watched him speak into the mike on his shoulder. Reinforcements could be a long time coming—his department was small. Sometimes the state police helped, providing there were officers nearby. Neither of them had a SWAT team or high-tech resources handy, and going through channels could take precious time.

  Minutes ticked by. Sam began to worry about Lisa and Benjie arriving for work and getting caught up in the nightmare.

  Beau picked up the bullhorn again, gave another order for the men to come out one at a time, hands raised. Again, nothing.

  She could see the frustration on his face, the tension in his shoulders. She felt useless trapped in the house but knew he’d have a fit if she were to come outside.

  His radio must have come on again; he listened intently for a couple of minutes and nodded. He walked back to Walter’s car and the two spoke with their heads together. No more than five minutes went by and a black and white state police car arrived. The officer, in his sharp black uniform, got out and walked over to Beau, said something, pointed toward the sky.

  Sam found herself watching the road, hoping her employees wouldn’t venture in when they saw all the action. Or turn and run, never to return.

  She heard a distant throbbing sound and the state cop pointed north. A dot appeared in the sky. A blue and white helicopter approached, correcting course when he apparently spotted the law enforcement vehicles’ flashing lights. The state officer said something into his microphone and the helicopter passed directly over the carriage house. The nearby weeds laid flat and dirt flew as the pilot held his machine at a hover a couple hundred feet above the building.

  Beau used the bullhorn again.

  “Matthew Cook. Wolfe Hanson. Kurt Blake. Come out now with your hands up!” A few beats went by. “We have reinforcements and tear gas. Come out now or we’ll use them.”

  The side door of the carriage house opened slowly. Sam held her breath until she could see all three men. Their hands were empty.

  The helicopter lifted a little higher until the dirt stopped whipping around the men. Beau, Walter and the state cop rushed forward, shouting. All three men dropped to the ground, facedown. In mere seconds, the lawmen had cuffs on them.

  Sam stepped out the kitchen door, unable to sit on the sidelines another minute. Beau gave her a smile and a thumbs-up.

  “What the hell was that shit!” the eldest of the suspects yelled. He had a rough look about him.

  Walter gave the guy a shove toward his cruiser. Sam stepped aside as they passed, then she walked over to Beau.

  “Matt, what’s he talking about?” Beau asked the younger, dark-haired guy.

  “This place is weird,” Matt muttered. “Doors slamming shut, locking us in.”

  Beau shifted his eyes toward Sam.

  “Must have been the wind,” she said with a shrug.

  Other than what the helicopter rotors had caused, there was no breath of wind anywhere. The aircraft had flown to one side and touched down in the open field. The rotors spun slowly and the pilot got out and ran up to the officers.

  “Everything under control now?” he asked.

  “Great, Drake. Thanks so much.” The state cop set a hand on the pilot’s shoulder and turned to Beau, making introductions all around.

  “Drake Langston, Beau Cardwell. Drake’s based in Albuquerque but whenever he’s in the area he’s a great resource.”

  “Civilian contractor,” Drake said, “but I’m happy to help law enforcement whenever I can. My wife’s a pilot too.” He reached into his jacket and handed Beau a business card.

  Sam knew the name—she couldn’t remember how, until it occurred to her she’d met this man’s wife a couple of times. Charlie.

  Drake confirmed her guess with a smile. “Well, I’m doing an elk count up at Amalia. Better get back there. Fish and Game thinks I just went to Taos Airport to refuel.”

  He gave a quick nod and jogged back to his machine.

  Within a couple minutes, the helicopter was gone. Shortly after, the various law enforcement vehicles with their captured suspects pulled away and left in a little procession toward town. Sam went back inside. What an eventful morning, and it wasn’t quite nine o’clock yet.

  She walked into the supply room, trying to remember where she’d been in her inventory count. Bobul stepped through the doorway leading to the basement. When he saw her, his face took on a secretive look. He walked past her, murmuring something about starting his first batch of chocolate for the day.

  What was that all about? He’d always been a little spooked by Beau, but was he so afraid that he’d chosen to hide out in the basement?

  Chapter 56

  The lawmen had hardly left when both Benjie and Lisa showed up, a little wide-eyed over the fact that they’d each passed a string of official vehicles on their way in. Explanations took a few minutes—Sam kept the details minimal and then suggested everyone get to work. Another order was due at the airport tonight.

  Bobul was already stirring chocolate at the stove, Benjie got busy cleaning and readying molds for him, and Lisa didn’t need to be told what to do next. She sat on her work stool and quickly began to fill boxes. It took Sam a minute to locate her inventory list; somehow in the hubbub it had ended up on the floor of the pantry behind the broom.

  Figuring she might as well take stock of supplies at the bakery and place one order for everything, she told the crew she’d be away for a little while. She felt a little like a mom running to the store while the kids stayed home, but these were all adults. They would do fine. They had her cell number. She started to tell them not to set the house on fire but decided not to tempt fate.

  At Sweet’s Sweets a low conversational buzz between the three employees told Sam they’d somehow gotten word of the morning’s events.

  “Radio,” Becky said. “My husband was on his way to work after taking the kids to school. He says KTAO news was talking about it.”

  Sam hadn’t seen any media vehicles in the area at all. How did these guys do it? They must all have police scanners. She imagined Beau’s office building surrounded by media vans.

  She asked Becky how the supplies of flour, sugar and butter were holding out, checked the shelves and added a couple of items to her list. Now that her computer was at the other location it was a little cumbersome to place orders for both shops. She would have to work that out, or suggest to her suppliers that they come up with mobile apps.

  “If all’s well here,” she told Becky and Julio, “I’m heading back to the chocolate factory.”

  “Keep us posted,” Becky said. “It’s not eve
ry day a big cash heist gets solved in your own back yard.”

  So that’s how the media was playing it—focus on the cash. She decided to stop by Beau’s office on her way.

  As she had guessed, two large news vans and a couple of cars with local press logos sat in front of the department building. Sam took a side street, parked, and walked back through the employee parking lot. The state policeman must have gone back to his regular duties—no sign of him—but she spotted a Colfax County van beside Beau’s cruiser. Rico let her in through the back door.

  Inside, the place buzzed with activity. Two men she didn’t recognize milled among the Taos County deputies. On a desk sat four black duffle bags; from the way Beau had described the first one with the found money, she assumed this was the haul from the robbery. A somewhat battered shotgun lay beside them. A Colfax deputy and a Taos deputy were listing the items on evidence sheets, keeping the chain of custody intact. She saw Beau through the window to his office, talking to another man in uniform. He spotted her and waved her over.

  “Sam, this is Tim Beason, my counterpart in Colfax County,” he said.

  He told Beason Sam had managed to lock the three robbers in the garage at her property and she responded with a quick smile, hoping there would be no detailed questions about exactly how she’d done it.

  “So, I’ve got Kurt Blake locked in my one holding cell,” Beau said. “The younger ones, Matthew Cook and Wolfe Hanson are in the interrogation rooms. The story’s still coming out, but it looks like we’ll get enough testimony from those two to finally put Blake away for a good, long time. These two are pretty intimidated by Blake. Cook admitted he took one of the twenty-dollar bills from the stolen money—used it to buy food for the family that night after the robbery—and he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since, worrying about Blake finding out.”

  “It could be the bill we tracked to the convenience store.”

  “Most likely given as change at the pizza place, and who knows how many hands it passed through in those twenty-four hours,” said Beau.

  “The rest of the charges … we still don’t know about the driver?” Beason asked.

  Beau shook his head. “Sadly, no. We’re still hoping she’ll recover. Aside from the fact she’s the breadwinner for her family, if she could testify Blake was the one who shot her we’d have a lot better chance of his getting a longer sentence.”

  “I think we’ve got that one nailed,” Beason said. “There are enough charges against him, even before this crime—this guy’s going away for good. I understand the younger sister of one of the men is the one who came forward.”

  “Yeah, fourteen years old. She seems like a good kid. I had Dixie take her out for some breakfast. She doesn’t know her brother’s here being questioned, but I think she’s sharp enough to figure out he’ll most likely be doing prison time. Tough situation—the mother’s cancer is pretty far advanced and the two kids are trying to hold it together. I don’t know how it’ll turn out for them.”

  Beason turned toward the squad room door. “Well, I guess we’re about ready to take all this off your hands, get these guys back to the Colfax county facilities and book them. Let’s get Kurt Blake out to the van first, cuff him down then take the younger ones out to other squad cars. I’ll put the evidence in my cruiser, and I think we’ll be set.”

  “What ever happened with the other guards from A-1?” Beau asked.

  “Oh yeah, I meant to mention the drug tests. They were both clean.”

  “Really.” Although Beau seemed to question it, Sam could tell he felt vindicated in some way.

  “Yeah. Just proves you can’t jump to conclusions. Turns out Rudy had purchased the drugs for a relative. And the phone number—it wasn’t tied to this case at all. Somebody else in Taos.”

  “So, he’ll get a misdemeanor possession of paraphernalia but I think we can convince the manager not to fire him. He seems genuinely sorry for having gotten involved.”

  “Lessons learned all around,” Beau said.

  Sam caught his wink as he turned away from the other sheriff. She watched Beason gather his men. A short discussion and two of them carried the evidence bags out to the parking lot. A third headed toward the holding cell, along with two of Beau’s deputies.

  “Case solved?” Sam asked.

  “Looks like, pretty much. At least the other county can take over now, handle the interrogations and fill in the gaps.”

  “I’m glad,” she said, looking up into his eyes, wishing the blinds were closed so she could kiss him without half the department looking on.

  “I suppose I better draft a statement for the press. I hear they are hovering around the front door.” His desk phone rang as he was about to see her out. “Yeah? Seriously? That’s excellent news.”

  He hung up. “It’s the ICU nurse, Beth Baughn. Tansy Montoya is awake.”

  Chapter 57

  “I should get back to work,” Sam said, wondering if her early visit to the critically injured woman had made the difference.

  Beau sensed her thoughts. “Come along with me. We have no idea how well she’s really doing. You might still be able to help.”

  They drove to the hospital in silence. Beau knew it might be awhile before Sam wanted to talk about her own feelings about the morning’s events. Right now, she seemed to be taking the invasion of her business space pretty well but he’d seen crime victims who broke down only after the actual danger had passed.

  Things seemed quieter than usual outside the tall, tan stucco building and they rode the elevator to the fourth floor alone.

  Tansy’s doctor was standing near the ICU nurse’s station when they approached. She greeted Beau with a handshake and smile. “The very good news is that she’s conscious and able to speak a little. The unknown is how much brain damage she has suffered. There was injury to the left temporal lobe, an area we believe deals with episodic memory—that is, memories of specific things which have happened to us. The brain is remarkable, though, self-healing in many ways, sometimes rerouting neural signals to compensate for lost function. There will be therapy, of course. Until Tansy reaches that stage, we won’t know for sure. Really, only time will tell.”

  “May I speak with her briefly?”

  “Five minutes. Her strength is fragile at this point.” She stood a little taller. “And, Sheriff, ask your questions as gently as possible.”

  He nodded and thanked her.

  Nurse Beth moved aside as Beau came into the room. “Tansy,” she said gently, “this is Sheriff Cardwell.”

  “Hi, Tansy,” Beau said, once Beth had left. “There are a lot of us who are very happy to see you awake.”

  The slight woman in the bed smiled a little. Only one eye and half her mouth were unbandaged, and Beau had no idea how well she could see him.

  “I’m sorry to bother you with questions so soon. Do you remember anything about your last day at work? There was a robbery and you were shot.”

  Tansy’s smile vanished. “Shot?”

  Oh, no, they’ve not told her anything.

  “The doctor tells me you are recovering very well.” Had she actually told him so? “We’re all hoping you can go home soon. But for now, can you remember anything about that morning, when you were driving from Springer to the mine?”

  Her head shook back and forth. “My babies? Where are my kids?”

  Beth Baughn bustled back into the room, laid a calming hand on Tansy’s arm and signaled Beau to leave. He complied. No point in upsetting Tansy even more. He waited at the nurse’s station until Beth came out, a couple of minutes later.

  “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I wish she could remember that day, but she doesn’t. It’s not uncommon with traumatic injuries like this. The memories may eventually come back—sometimes gradually, sometimes all at once. But sometimes those types of memories never return. It’s the mind’s way of protecting us from things that are too painful to think about.”

  “Eventually, I’ll need a statement fro
m her.”

  “At some point we’ll be moving her to a private room, once she’s stabilized.”

  “I need you to keep that information quiet,” he said. “The men involved in this robbery have been captured, but the story is still coming out. If others were involved and if they learn where she is … well, you can see why we want to keep her safe.”

  The doctor he’d spoken with came out of a room and heard the last part. “Tansy’s health and safety is also our primary concern,” she said.

  Sam spoke for the first time. “I’m sure the sheriff is in absolute agreement with you.” She looked back toward the patient. “I’d like to spend another minute or two with her, if I may? I won’t ask any questions.”

  The doctor seemed ready to deny the request, but Beau gave one of his winning smiles and congratulated the woman on her patient’s progress. Sam edged toward the door into Tansy’s space and joined nurse Beth at the bedside.

  Whether it was from the morning’s excitement or the fact she’d been in a heightened state when she handled the box this morning, her hands and arms still felt energized and she could think of no better place to dispense some of that power than right here. Without asking, she reached down and took Tansy’s hand. The injured woman looked up, meeting Sam’s gaze.

  A current of understanding passed between them.

  Chapter 58

  Sam couldn’t believe two weeks had passed. Tansy Montoya was home from the hospital—the doctors were calling her quick recovery a miracle—although she’d be doing physical therapy and it would be awhile before she could return to her job at A-1. The company’s insurance would cover everything and provide the young mother and her kids with what they needed in the interim.

  Beau had taken a call at home this morning during breakfast that improved his mood even further. Matt Cook would, indeed, have to serve some jail time but he’d pleaded to a lesser charge in exchange for his testimony against Kurt Blake.