Sweets Forgotten (Samantha Sweet Mysteries Book 10) Read Online Free

business card that showed his name as Zack and his
position as partner in a company called ChanZack Innovations, Inc. Beau
wondered who Chan was, since the rest of the company name was obviously a play
on Zack’s name. According to the license, Zack was forty-five years old, six
foot one, and two hundred twenty pounds. He printed a copy of the scans, then
cropped the driver’s license photo of Robinet, enlarged it and printed the
face.
    The residential address on the
license didn’t sound immediately familiar. Beau looked it up and found it to be
on a winding road on the south end of town, the same direction as Greenlee
Manor. With luck, he might find a wife at the home address and she could be the
one to inform the elderly parents. No matter who he spoke to, these things were
never fun. How do you tell either a wife or a guy’s parents that he was messed
up in something unsavory in an out-of-town hotel? He grabbed a file folder and
stuck the printed pages inside, stopped by Dixie’s desk to let her know he was
leaving, and went outside to his cruiser.
    Goldenrod Lane was a short,
narrow road that jutted off one of the through streets, about a half mile from Paseo
del Pueblo. The neighborhood was like many in Taos, lots of old-time adobes
patched together and added onto for generations, mixed with the new upper
middle class ones where money had allowed the owners to build big the first
time. The Robinet address was one of the latter. A long driveway showcased a
portico of thick logs and a heavy front door with a stylized Zia symbol carved
into it. Fall asters and chrysanthemums bloomed in neatly groomed patches of
red, gold and purple. A three-car garage at the west end of the house was
closed up tight and if any cars were present they were inside it.
    Beau picked up the photo of Zack,
took a deep breath and walked up to the front door. A doorbell sent rich tones
chiming through the house, a hollow sound. He had a feeling right away no one
was home. If there was a Mrs. Robinet she was probably at work. He gave the
bell one more push but the result was the same, so he turned back to his
vehicle and headed toward the next address on his list: Greenlee Manor.

 
    *
* *

 
    Sam wondered when she would hear
from Beau as she smoothed the melted chocolate with her spatula, cooling it to
the proper consistency before it could be poured into the special molds she had
purchased for the mystery book group next door.
    She sent a sideways glance toward
Jane who seemed content to sit on a stool and merely watch the normal
hustle-bustle in the kitchen.
    Okay, she hasn’t really taken over the day. It’s just weird having a stranger sitting here staring at me .
    Becky had stored the fashion purse
cake in the large walk-in fridge and was now piping trim onto the anniversary
cake. It was a simple, traditional one that would have a golden 50 on top. As
cakes went, it was a relatively easy one. The real work would come later in the
week with a six-tier extravaganza of a wedding cake. Cascades of autumn flowers
must be made—Sam and Becky had estimated nearly two hundred of them. Those
would be fashioned out of gum paste and set to firm up until Thursday, when the
massive job of creating ruffles and swags would commence.
    Why isn’t this lady worried? Sam mused. I’d be frantic to figure out where I lived, who might be missing me.
What if she has kids and they don’t have a clue that mommy can’t get to them? She edged a glance toward Jane and smiled half-heartedly when that blue-eyed
gaze met hers.
    A scream erupted from the sales
room, a crash, and Jen’s voice. “Sam!”
    Sam dropped her spatula on the
table and rushed through the curtained opening. Jen was at the beverage bar,
holding onto the midsection of the coffee maker, the top precariously balanced
and spilled coffee grounds scattered in a swath around her.
    “Help—grab that carafe,” she
panted. “I can barely hold this thing.”
    Sam rushed to her side,