“This week was the pits. She’s been on my ass for two weeks, but it got to be more than her usual PMS or whatever. She has it in for me, Mom. I can’t handle her anymore.”
They’d had this discussion by phone quite a few times. Kelly swore she’d discussed Deborah’s behavior with company management, that everyone else in the department agreed with her, but that nothing ever changed. Sam had been sympathetic but was getting the uneasy feeling that tea and sympathy wasn’t what Kelly was after now.
“I’ve quit,” she said.
“Quit? A seventy-thousand a year job, and you’ve just quit?”
“It’s not like there aren’t better jobs, Mom. I’m getting my resume out there.”
How many places could have possibly received her resume since, what, Friday? All sorts of thoughts went through Sam’s head—mainly, how was Kelly going to pay back the cash she taken. Unemployment money wasn’t an option if she’d just walked out. And there certainly wouldn’t be any golden parachute.
Kelly got up and went to the cookie jar, helping herself to the last of the butter cookies. “Don’t stress over this, Mom. Something great is going to come through.”
Sam rinsed her mug and put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, refusing to guess at why Kelly left Los Angeles on a moment’s notice, or to dwell on the fact that she’d never find a job of that caliber here in Taos.
“I’m tired,” Sam said. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
She closed her bedroom door and put on her nightshirt. A quick call to Beau to let him know there was no emergency and that they could talk more tomorrow. From the living room a reality show began blaring on television. The smell of microwave popcorn drifted through the house. This was too much like the last time Kelly’d shown up, right after her college graduation. Sam pulled the pillow over her head and tried not to think.
Chapter 14
Sam woke early, with an uneasy mix of images running through her head. Beau’s kiss last night came back to her, creating an ache inside. Then she remembered that Kelly was in the next room and suspected that she’d only heard half the story about her quick exit from L.A. and her job.
The phone was ringing in the kitchen when she stepped out of the shower. When it became apparent that Kelly wasn’t going to get herself out of bed to answer it Sam threw on a robe and dashed for it. A female voice was leaving a message about a cake. She grabbed up the receiver before the answering machine cut off. At this moment, any business was good business.
“I know this is short notice, but is there any way you could do a wedding cake by Thursday?” the female voice inquired, once she realized she was speaking to a real person.
Sam got the details on size and colors and quoted a price, with a little added premium for the fact that she would once again have to drive to Santa Fe for delivery. Sam’s own inclination, if she were the customer, would have been to look for the nearest local bakery but as the baker she was more than happy to accept an order. It wasn’t as if she were swamped with extra business right now. If Sweet’s Sweets was ever going to get off the ground Sam had to jump through a few hoops to get that necessary can-do reputation.
The minute she hung up she made a quick inventory of supplies and calculated a schedule. The three cakes for the tiers would have to be baked the night before assembly and delivery. But she could get busy on the flowers and trim pieces right away. She whipped up a batch of buttercream frosting, tinted part of it in the bride’s chosen mauve and started making roses and buds. A darker tint for some of the flowers would add dimension. Even with a traditional cake like this customer wanted, Sam liked to add special touches. She’d no sooner slipped the baking sheet full of roses, on their small paper squares, into the fridge than Beau called.
“How did it go last night?” he asked.
“Same song, next verse. I don’t think I’m getting the whole story.” She glanced toward Kelly’s room. The door remained closed. Some job hunt.
“Thought you might be interested in knowing that some kind of plant toxin showed up in Riley Anderson—uh, Pierre Cantone’s system. The M.I. said there was fluid in the lungs, maybe pneumonia, so I don’t know if the two are related.”
“Odd. Maybe he was having an allergic reaction to something and that caused the fluid.” Sam realized that she was merely making wild guesses. “I’m still wondering where the roommate went, too. How weird is it that he just vanished. Do you think someone might have harmed him?”
“No real evidence of that. Maybe with Cantone’s death, he simply had no reason to stick around.”
That was certainly possible.
“Sam . . . I’d really like to see you again.” His voice held that familiar ache.
She glanced again at Kelly’s closed door and lowered her voice. “Me too. But it’s awkward right now. Your place?”
“Well, that’s awkward too. My mother is here.”
He’d mentioned his mother before. “Visiting?” she asked, daring to hope.
“No, and that’s the thing. She’s getting fragile and I’ve been debating what to do. Nursing homes are just so depressing.”
Sam could only imagine. Her own parents were still going pretty strong, and her sister Rayleen lived less than ten miles from them. Whenever Sam talked to friends who were dealing with the elderly and frail, it made her appreciate her situation.
They ended the call without really making any plans.
She was brooding over it when the phone rang again. Delbert Crow. He had another house for her to take care of, this one between town and the Taos Ski Valley. Not exactly a convenient drive, but hey, income was income. She wrote down the details and asked whether there was a key or if she’d need to break in. She knew what the answer would be. Luckily, her tool box was still out in the truck. She told him she could get on it that afternoon.
With another glare at Kelly’s closed bedroom door, Sam made herself a sandwich for lunch, knowing she still had to talk to her daughter about repaying the money. Dreading it.
Sam went out to her truck to be sure her tools and lawn equipment were loaded. She doubted that a property on the ski basin road would have an actual, formal lawn but she never knew. Best to be prepared.
Back in the kitchen she grabbed an apple and chips to go with her sandwich and noticed that Kelly’s bedroom door stood halfway open. A flush from the bathroom, and she meandered out wearing an oversize T-shirt and loose silk kimono.
“Morning, Mom,” she said with a yawn, coming into the kitchen and touching the side of the coffee carafe to see if it was warm.
“It’s nearly noon,” Sam said. “Coffee went cold hours ago.”
Kelly hmmm’d and filled a mug with the cold leftover brew, sticking it into the microwave.
“I’ve got a property to attend to this afternoon. Do not get into those roses in the fridge. They’re for a customer.” One of Kelly’s favorite things as a teen had been to pop a whole frosting rose into her mouth and just let it melt. “What are your plans today?”
She shot Sam a look that said she’d hoped not to do anything at all.
“We need to talk. Later.” Sam gathered her pack and left.
She reached the ski valley property quickly enough. Posted the requisite signage that USDA provides, notifying the world that the property was now under their jurisdiction. The place was high enough in elevation to be largely covered in trees, mostly pinon but with a few taller pines as well. Aside from a summer’s worth of mountain wildflowers and grasses to be leveled with the weed trimmer, the outdoor work would be minimal.
The house was a charmer, a picturesque log cabin with a wide porch across the front and a large redwood deck at the back. Wooden planters once held lush annuals, but crisp brown stalks provided the only evidence of them now. Overall, the place was well maintained and Sam wondered what had caused the owner to abandon it.
Inside, it was clear that they’d taken their time moving out. No furniture remained, the kitchen was neat, the
