Sweets Forgotten (Samantha Sweet Mysteries Book 10) (10 page)

Chapter
11

Jane showed up for work promptly
at eight. As per Sam’s instructions she said she had taken the about-town
trolley that ran up and down the main drag and through the Plaza.

“There was an interesting cooking
show on television last night,” she told Sam as they washed their hands. “A
travelogue of sorts featuring unusual flavors of chocolate from around the
world.”

Sam’s interest perked up.
“Something we can use to fill Mr. Bookman’s order?”

“Well, some of them. A few were
truly weird, like marinating tobacco leaves in rum and infusing the chocolate
with the resulting liqueur.”

“Uh, no.”

“Or, pig’s blood? Absinthe?”

“We better skip to the usable
ideas,” Sam said.

“Japan had one with plum liqueur.
It sounded fabulous. And there was a really unusual one from Spain—
hazelnut
praline, sea salt, and Pop Rocks candy coated in cocoa butter. They say the Pop
Rocks explode in your mouth like fireworks.”

“Hm, I remember those candies
from when Kelly was a kid. She loved them. I didn’t realize they were still
available.”

“I guess they are. We could
always check the candy counter at the convenience store on the corner.”

Sam added the candy and sea salt
to her list of things to buy locally, and Jane started mixing the cocoa powder
with cocoa butter in a heavy double boiler.

“This large pot is better than
the one you used the other day,” Jane said, watching the mixture as it began to
melt, stirring carefully.

“You’re right. How was your room
last night?” Sam asked as Jane inserted the candy thermometer into the dark,
fragrant mixture.

“Clean enough, I suppose.” Jane
looked up. “Fine, really—it was fine.”

The woman must have been
accustomed to fancier digs but since Sam was paying the bill she hadn’t felt
obligated to come up with a nicer hotel.

“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 contact 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.”