them. Jumping through hoops to produce the rush order was going to prove profitable, Sam realized, in addition to the premium price she’d charged the customer for the tight deadline. She set the castle cake on the party table in the backyard and made sure that she’d left business cards with everyone who asked for one.
When Kelly walked in at eight p.m., Sam had just pulled a batch of cranberry-apple scones from the oven. She was pressing her lower back against the kitchen counter, seeking relief from the hours on her feet.
“I have to get some help with this,” she said when Kelly gave her a quizzical look. She held up the stack of order forms. “Seven more messages when I got home from delivering that birthday cake.”
Kelly put the tea kettle on and splashed a generous dollop of amaretto liqueur into Sam’s. “Be careful what you wish for?”
“Definitely.” Sam groaned and sank into one of the chairs at the kitchen table while Kelly brewed the tea.
“How soon can you open the shop, Mom?”
Sam sipped the comforting warmth and thought about it. “It’s the kitchen fixtures I’m waiting on and that guy in Albuquerque—ugh—can’t promise any earlier than Monday.”
“So, let’s see how we might organize this,” Kelly said, taking a seat across from Sam. She picked up the stack of order forms and began sorting them by due dates. “Looks like some of these aren’t needed until later next week anyway. We’ll put them at the back of the stack and start with the most urgent.”
We? This was Sam’s first clue that Kelly cared to become involved.
“Mom, I think if we can get past these next few days, it’s all going to level off to a reasonable workload. Plus, once you get the shop open, people will come pick up their orders. You won’t have to dash all over town like you’re doing now.”
“True. Only the specialty cakes will actually need to be delivered and set up. I was thinking about that last night as I cleaned up the shop. The storefront is nearly ready now. But how will I fill it? I can’t open up shop with nothing in the cases.”
“I have an idea—if you’re interested.”
“Anything.”
“I reconnected with a couple of old friends today. Told you I’d fill you in. Well, remember Jennifer Baca? She’s looking for a job right now.”
Sam searched her memory, coming up with a skinny little girl that Kelly used to invite for sleepovers. She couldn’t think of any outstanding feature about the kid, but then how many middle schoolers really show a lot of impressive traits?
“Does she have any experience?”
“Not in a bakery, but she’s worked in retail a lot. Her current job, which she hates because whole days go by without a customer walking in the door, is at one of the galleries just off the plaza. Jen has all the right whatever- you-call-it to deal with a classy clientele.”
Sam thought about it. With someone up front, ringing up sales, taking orders, it would free her up to do nothing but bake. And if she could find a second person, someone to mix the recipes and take things in and out of the oven, leaving Sam to simply create and decorate . . . This was getting a lot closer to the ideal that she’d envisioned.
“If Jen and I pitched in, and you were able to keep baking at home until the ovens get there . . . think we might get the doors open by Monday?”
Sam took a deep gulp.
Chapter 7
Little Jennifer Baca was no longer the scrawny twelve-year-old that Sam had remembered. She’d driven over to the gallery where Kelly said Jen worked, hoping to catch her with a little free time for an informal interview and finding the place as devoid of customers as Kelly described. At thirty, Jen stood tall, slender and elegant in a broomstick skirt and silk tunic top that hugged her youthful curves and set off spectacular examples of turquoise and gold jewelry.
Briefed in advance, Jennifer greeted Sam warmly and laughed with her at the memory of the time the girls had tried to bake brownies at midnight and Sam awoke to the shriek of the smoke alarm.
“I’m a lot better at baking now,” Jen assured her. “But Kelly says that’s not what you need at the moment?”
“Actually, I can use help in just about any way. At first, a person behind the counter who knows the difference between an eclair and a scone will be helpful. Pitching in with the baking, eventually learning the decorating—all of it will be necessary as the business grows.”
Sam knew by the way Jen’s eyes lit up that she loved the idea.
“I don’t know how much I can afford to pay right now. I’m new at this employer thing.”
Jennifer named a figure that would cover her basic needs and Sam readily agreed.
“If the phone calls keep coming in as they have been, I feel certain I can raise that amount fairly soon.”
Jennifer glanced around the dead-quiet gallery. “Really, I’d probably pay
Sam nodded. How many high-class art stores could a town this size support anyway? She started to respond but her cell phone rang. She glanced at the readout and asked the caller to hold on just a second. “Is there any chance you could start Monday?”
Jennifer nodded agreement and Sam gave a little wave as she left the quiet building.
“Hey, Beau. Sorry about that. I was right in the middle of hiring my first employee.”
“I won’t keep you. Just thought I’d let you know that the DNA results came back on that blood. No match in any of the databases. I have the lab cross-checking it against a couple of Cheryl Adams’s family members that we located in Colorado. They don’t know where Cheryl is now but it’s possible the blood comes from one of her sons. I should have some results later today or tomorrow.”
Despite feeling as if she were standing in a whirlwind, Sam was still curious about whatever had happened at the property on the south side that was now officially under her care. She told Beau to let her know how the lab results turned out.
“Meanwhile, I’m back to working the case of that body SAR pulled from the gorge last night,” he said. “When the Medical Investigator’s office got to taking a closer look they found a wound. I don’t know details yet, but have to keep the possibility open that the guy didn’t just jump off the bridge.”
They made a tentative plan to have dinner together Saturday night, but both knew that everything was up in the air at this moment. Sam speed-walked back to her van, where she found a business card tucked under the wiper—‘
She sank into the van’s comfortable cushions as she dialed the number on the card. She left a voice message telling the man that she would be most happy to provide the pastries but really wasn’t set up for full catering services yet.
Zoe and Darryl’s bed and breakfast was only a couple of blocks away so she headed that direction, hoping to catch them both at home. In her dreams, Zoe would offer a soothing cup of tea and Darryl would say that the cabinetry for her shop was ready. In reality she got half her wish. At least it was the more important half.
“If we can meet him there right now, the guy’s ready to deliver,” Darryl said. “I can give you about fifteen minutes, myself, then I have to meet the crew at one of my other jobs. Just tell Mack how you want the stuff.” He had his cell phone out and was already giving orders.
Sam drove along behind Darryl’s big pickup truck, parked her van at the back door of her place and unlocked everything for the workers. Ten minutes later a large panel truck showed up and took four parking spaces out front. Mack began shouting orders. Darryl watched long enough to be sure that the cabinetry was indeed what Sam had ordered and then he headed out to his other job. Sam watched in awe as four burly men hefted the huge pieces and
