Chapter 31

 

Sam let herself enjoy the clear blue sky and last of the autumn leaves on the giant cottonwoods which lined this section of Paseo del Pueblo Sur. She’d just come from the attorney’s office where Bessie George assured her what she needed in the way of a non-compete agreement for her employees was a very simple document. She also convinced Sam it would be smart to turn her business into a limited liability company. Bessie would begin the process and draft a non-compete document specific to the needs of Sweet’s Enterprises, LLC and have it ready for Sam’s signature by tomorrow.

From the attorney’s office it was a quick hop to the department store where she found some light curtains for the downstairs windows in the Victorian. If they’d been for her own home she would have opted for something classier—this was mainly to keep prying eyes from knowing Sam was frequently there alone at night. Simple curtain rods completed the purchase. As she handed over her credit card, she chided herself. There was so little traffic on the road, and the one neighbor very seldom came and went. Still, she would feel less as if she were in a fishbowl now.

Next stop on her list was her old neighborhood. Sweet’s Sweets had survived two whole days without Sam’s presence. She needed to know how they’d managed. But first she popped in at Mysterious Happenings, the bookshop next door, to see if Ivan had located a copy of Eliza Nalespar’s popular book.

“Oui, Miss Sam, I am finding it for you and is shipping now.” Ivan shooed one of the bookstore cats off his computer keyboard. “Is coming in few days.”

Sam thanked him. She was curious to see what insights she might gain about the previous owner of the Victorian, but it wasn’t as if she had any time to read these days anyway. If a spare moment came along she could always go online and see what she might find. Or invite Kelly and Scott over for dinner—it was her turn to host, after all.

The kitchen at the bakery seemed a bit chaotic, although Becky assured her they were handling everything all right. Near the bake oven, Julio was shaking his head.

“Okay,” Becky admitted. “We do need you. One baker and one decorator isn’t quite cutting it.”

Sam peeled off her outdoor coat, washed her hands and picked up a pastry bag. “What’s most urgent?”

“Three birthday cakes need to be done by three o’clock. They’re all pretty standard, but I’ve been trying to get this wedding cake finished so you could take it with you and deliver it this afternoon.”

Sam glanced at the order forms. One cake done in pink roses on white buttercream. With flower nail in hand she whipped it out quickly enough. The second birthday cake needed a yellow and orange theme. She piped autumn leaves and created a couple of showy tiger lilies.

“Keep these lilies in the fridge until right before delivery time, then stick them in place,” she said to Becky as she turned to the third cake.

It was a princess cake, where the flounced skirt was cake and the head and shoulders basically a Barbie doll. Assembly went quickly, and Sam alternated pink and lavender buttercream for the ruffles on the skirt and bodice. One little girl would be thrilled and happy.

“That helps a bunch,” Becky said. “Now, if you want to do some string work on this one ...?” Becky hated making strings.

They shuffled around each other a bit as Sam draped spaghetti-like strings around the middle tier, while Becky placed white roses at the base of the big cake.

“Do you have time for it to set up a bit before you deliver it?” Becky asked, eyeing the piece critically to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.

Sam glanced at the clock, feeling the pressure to get back to her batches of chocolate. But she couldn’t let the bakery business slide while she went off on a different tangent.

“Let’s get it into the walk-in. While it chills, I’ll help with some of this other.”

It’ll mean another all-nighter but at least I have the box with me.

She sliced strawberries, mango and kiwi for two fruit tarts. Julio had already baked the crusts and the cream filling wouldn’t take long to whip up. Becky boxed the birthday cakes and carried them out front where customers would pick them up. Julio kept a steady supply of cheesecake and streusel coming from the oven, although Sam swore he was keeping one eye on her as he worked.

“Everything okay?” she finally asked him when Becky left the room.

“Just fine here,” he said. “How about at the new shop? No problems out there?”

Well, noises in the night and trying to work at a breakneck pace by myself. But none of that was his concern.

“It’s getting up to speed gradually. Once I get a few people trained it’ll take the pressure off. And as long as you keep that oven busy here, we’re rocking.”

He gave one of his quick smiles and turned on the mixer he’d just loaded with the ingredients for devil’s food cake.

By five o’clock, Sam had delivered Becky’s lavish wedding creation and stopped by home for a few tools. With a sub sandwich for her dinner, plus stepladder, drill, hammer and bits, she settled in at the Victorian to hang curtains before going back to chocolate-making. The new curtains held wrinkles from their packages but Sam was too tired to even consider going back home for an iron. Screw it—the wrinkles would eventually go away, or she could think about ironing another day.

By the time she’d covered the two windows in the boxing room weariness began to settle over her. Was it only this morning she’d welcomed her newest employee and begun training her? It felt as if a week had passed and she still had, realistically, two days of work she should finish before tomorrow’s work day could begin. She dragged the stepladder to the kitchen and set her tools on the floor. Enough of being a hero. Time for the box.

She’d left her pack on the kitchen counter and she reached in and took out the mystical object. As always, she felt the warmth in her hands as the dark, ugly wood transformed and began to glow a golden hue. The inset stones of red, blue and green began to sparkle. Sam held the box close to her, letting the warmth travel up her arms, across her shoulders and into her center. When the heat began to make her hands uncomfortably hot, she set the artifact back into her pack and zipped the bag shut. No strange whistling sounds this time.

Stretching her arms over her head, reaching for the ceiling, she felt the magical energy travel throughout her body. Now she was ready to work!

She finished hanging the kitchen curtains and went on to do the parlor before stopping to eat her sandwich. The darkness outside didn’t bother her nearly as much now that the windows didn’t reveal her presence to the rest of the county. She chided herself for skittishness as she stowed the tools near the back door and washed up to begin chocolate production.

She was reaching for the candy thermometer when she heard a loud clunk! As before, it sounded as if someone was in the basement.

Well, I’m not being scared away from my own place, she thought, grabbing the hammer and heading for the butler’s pantry, where a door led to the downward stairs. She twisted the deadbolt lock, flung it open and hit the light switch.

“However you got in here, you’d better leave the same way—right now!”

Not a sound.

“I’ve already called the sheriff,” she called out, wishing she’d actually done so. “He’ll be here any minute.”

Complete quiet.

Okay, so it’s just my imagination.

She took the steps one at a time, picking up the huge flashlight Darryl had suggested she keep near the top of the stairs to lead her to the breaker box in case of a power outage. Aiming the light into every corner, she saw nothing out of place. The big boiler was running quietly, sending hot water through the pipes to warm the house; an old workbench still wore a coat of dust but its surface was clear, the dust undisturbed; miscellaneous pieces of furniture including a Victorian sofa and carved chest of drawers sat where she’d seen them before. Even the stone floor showed no signs of footprints. She spotted a window above what had once been a coal bin, before the house had been converted to propane heat. But when she checked it, the latch held firm. No one could have opened it from the outside.

All right, Sam, admit it. You’ve just got a case of the heebies. Most likely some critter outside had made those noises. Put it out of mind, play some music for company, and get on with work.

She flashed the light around once more for good measure, climbed the stairs and stashed the flashlight back in place. She even laughed a little at herself when she bolted and rechecked the door to the basement twice.

Back in the kitchen, she decided to find something upbeat on her playlist. There was a lot of work to do yet tonight and she might as well have lively company for it. She unzipped her pack to look for her phone and felt warmth.

The box seemed alive. The wood glowed with an intense light and the colored stones pulsed like an ominous heartbeat.