Sweets Forgotten (Samantha Sweet Mysteries Book 10) (14 page)

“I started for home but there are
some stretches of road out there without much traffic and I decided that wasn’t
smart, so I looped around back to the center of town. He just stayed behind me.
I couldn’t make a turn without him being right there. About two streets over
from your bakery he rammed my car—hard—with his big pickup truck. I whacked my
head on the steering wheel and blacked out. It was the last thing I knew.”

“Until now,” Sam prompted.
“You’re remembering it now.”

“Trying to get my memory back is
all I’ve thought of during those nights in that motel. By the way, thank you
for that, Sam. I didn’t know it but you probably saved my life by putting me
somewhere that neither Krystal or Ray would ever think to look.” She gave a
tentative smile. “I began to remember little things, mostly about Zack and me
and the good times. When Zack didn’t come back, I just … I didn’t know how to
handle that. His parents have never exactly been nice to me. If I contacted my
son there would be a record and someone would know. If I traveled I would need
to use my credit cards. When someone is following you, it feels like they could
be anywhere, everywhere. I couldn’t stay at home. Making chocolates in your
shop was the only thing that felt safe to me.”

By this time, Jo’s eyes were
streaming again and Sam felt herself welling up a little at the idea that she
had unknowingly provided a safe haven for this poor woman. She sensed movement
behind her and realized Beau had softly opened the door.

“I didn’t kill my husband,
Sheriff,” Jo said between sobs. “Please help me prove that.”

“Do you think Krystal and Ray did
it?” Beau asked.

“I have no idea.”

He told Jo she was free to go as
long as she stayed in town.

“What about Ray Belatoni?” she asked,
pulling tissues from the box two at a time and swabbing her face with them. “He
was ready to kill me in my car that morning.”

“More likely he just wanted to
scare you out of leaving town. He wanted your money, not your life,” Sam
suggested.

Beau spoke up. “Now that you can
use your credit cards again, I’d suggest you check into a different hotel,
someplace with security. Keep your eyes open. We’ll be questioning Belatoni
again.”

Sam walked with Jo to the ladies
room where she washed her face and got her emotions under control. “I can give
you a ride, if you like. Just give me a minute to tell Beau.”

When she walked back into the
interrogation room, Beau and Kent Taylor were deep in conversation, trying to
find the holes in Jo’s story.

“I’m wondering what happened to
Jo’s car that was run off the road?” Beau said. “Our department has no record
of it. That was one thing we checked when looking for Mrs. Robinet in the first
place, to notify her of Zack’s death—vehicle information, credit cards, the
whole thing.”

“
Supposedly
run off the road,” Taylor added. “I’m taking nothing at
face value here.”

“I believe her,” Sam said. “I’ve
worked with her nearly a week. I think she’s being genuine about this.”

She realized from Taylor’s
skeptical look exactly how weak that sounded. Yes, she’d worked with Jo a week,
and she hadn’t even figured out that Jane Doe had recovered part of her
memories. She decided not to tell the men she planned to take Jo to get
resettled.

Chapter
15

“Life would be simpler if I had some
money and identification,” Jo said as they climbed into Sam’s bakery van
outside the sheriff’s office. “Can we go by my house before the bakery?”

“Are you sure you want to work
today? It’s been a very rough morning. Maybe you should just settle in at home,
relax and have a few days to yourself.”

In the passenger seat, Jo
shuddered. “I don’t want to stay there. I was ready to walk away. I can still
do that. But I need to see Bentlee and talk things out. I can’t let his
memories of today end with me being taken away by the sheriff. Would you mind
sticking around while I shower and put on something that didn’t come from the
Goodwill?”

She gave a half-chuckle. “God, my
life has been such a disaster recently.”

“I’ll help you get organized.
Beau’s suggestion of staying at a hotel with security is a good one. I think
we’ll all feel better once you are settled somewhere safe.”

Sam followed Jo’s directions and
pulled up to an impressive house on Goldenrod Lane. A three-car garage faced
the road and the ranch-style adobe house spread across most of the acre on
which it sat.

“You don’t have keys, do you?”
she asked when her van came to a stop.

“There’s a hidden key. I hope I
remember the alarm code accurately.”

Jo led the way around the side of
the garage and approached a cottonwood tree with a small birdhouse nailed to
the trunk. She moved a panel in its side and pulled out a ring with several
keys. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the front door, impressively
carved with a deep-relief Zia symbol.

“You do it, Sam. I don’t know why
I’m nervous about this. No one is here.”

Sam took the key, which slid
easily into the well-oiled lock and she opened the door. A small panel to her
right began beeping, its red light flashing.

“Better enter the code quickly,”
she told Jo, who stepped in and pressed numbers. The red light turned to green.

The foyer contained a padded
bench upholstered in Indian-blanket fabric, a table with a bowl for keys and
mail, and a couple of potted plants that seemed distinctly in need of water. A
wide arch opened into a greatroom where a big screen TV was the focal point and
Sam could see a state-of-the-art kitchen. Jo stood in the doorway a couple of
long beats, her face unreadable.

“I fully intended to never enter
this house again,” she said quietly. “My bags held my most practical clothing
and I’d drawn out a bunch of cash—enough to get me through until I could have
an attorney inform Zack I was leaving him. It’s all gone now. I can’t believe I
never even made it out of town.”

She wandered into the big room,
her hand trailing across the back of a cushy leather sofa. Something on the
granite counter top caught her eye.

“What’s this doing here?” she
said, striding to pick up something. “My old cell phone. I didn’t leave this
here. It’s been put away in a drawer for months.”

“Maybe Zack got it out?”

“Trying to track me down,” she
said, a bitter edge to her voice. “Just like him. He would have immediately
noticed my things missing and read something illicit into it. Probably thought
I would have another man’s number programmed into this.”

She set the phone down, then
picked it up again. “I might as well get it activated again, since I have no
idea where my purse and my new phone are.”

“You said something about getting
money and ID?”

“Oh. Yes.” She led the way
through another arched doorway to a master suite. Behind a painting that Sam
would swear was an original RC Gorman, Jo twirled the dial of a wall safe. She
pulled out a large brown envelope and a stack of cash bound with a paper bank
wrapper.

“That will keep me going awhile,”
she said about the cash. She dumped the contents of the envelope and separated
a passport and MasterCard from the rest of the items. An oversized
parchment-colored page looked identical to Sam’s own marriage license from the
county. Jo stuck hers back inside the envelope without a second glance.

Sam held her hand out. “Beau will
want to hang onto the passport until he’s sure he has caught Zack’s killer.
Sorry.”

Jo paused before handing it over
with a sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m really sorry, Jo, but you do
understand don’t you?”

Jo didn’t respond.

“If what you told him checks out,
I’m sure you’ll get it back soon.” She didn’t mention that when the real killer
was caught Jo would probably be required to testify about everything she’d told
them today. It was unlikely Beau would want her leaving the country for a long
time.

“Mind if I look around while
you’re packing?” Sam asked. “Maybe Zack left something behind that would be an
important clue for Beau.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Sam walked through the foyer to
the greatroom and kitchen. Both rooms were spotlessly organized. Either the
Robinets were a very neat couple or a maid had come earlier in the week. Down a
hall, she found a boy’s bedroom and guest room done in Southwestern diagonal
prints. A door from the kitchen led to a pantry and another to a garage. She
reached for the wall light switch. Two of the three bays held cars—a shiny new
black Corvette and a white Lexus crossover. She pulled the door shut.

Wait a minute. If Zack drove a
car to Albuquerque and the Corvette belonged to Bentlee, as Beau had mentioned,
the Lexus had to be Jo’s.

But she’d claimed that it was
wrecked.

Sam’s heart thudded. She turned
and listened for a moment, hearing faint sounds of Jo moving about in the
master bedroom. She ducked out to the garage, closing the door softly behind
her. Circling the Lexus, she saw no evidence that it had been involved in an
accident. The light wasn’t great in here, but still, even a scrape down the
side would have showed. She walked around the vehicle twice before it occurred
to her to look inside.

She prayed it wasn’t equipped
with some kind of alarm that would go off when she touched the handle. Decided to
take the chance. The car wasn’t locked and the door opened with that solid,
heavy feel of quality. There in the back were two suitcases. Nice designer
luggage, Sam noted.

What was going on here?

A scream ripped through the
cavernous space.

Sam bumped her head on the door
frame, half expecting to face a drawn weapon. She backed away from the car,
staring at Jo who stood transfixed in the kitchen doorway.

“My car! What’s it—?”

“Doing here? I’d say that’s a
great question, one that the sheriff will want to know the answer to.”

“Sam, I
swear
the last time I saw this car was when I ran away from it. The
back was bashed from Ray’s pickup truck and the front had hit a concrete fence
post. It was
not
drivable.”

Sam left the door standing open,
wondering what to believe. Jo’s story had been so convincing. She pulled out
her phone and told Beau about the discovery.

By the time she hung up Jo was
crying again.

“How did this get here?” she
asked between sobs. “It was wrecked, really wrecked.”

Sam didn’t know whether to
comfort her or slap her into silence.

“It’s like someone’s trying to
drive me insane,” Jo blubbered. “It’s the kind of thing Zack would have done in
his cruel moments but how could that be? He was in Albuquerque.”

She sat on the step with the
kitchen door open behind her, holding her head in her hands.

“Beau is sending his forensic
people to dust the car for prints and check it over. I’m sure they’ll find out
who drove it here.” Including you, if you are lying about this whole thing.
“Meanwhile, he suggested we stick with the original plan and get you into a
hotel. I’ll take you.”

“I don’t know,” Jo said. Her
voice had a ragged quality to it. “I can’t think. Maybe I
am
going insane. I feel like everything is spinning out of
control.”

Sam walked over and sat down
beside her. “For now, don’t try to figure it out. Let’s just get you to a safe
place for a few days and let you rest and absorb it all. It’s been a horrible
week for you.”

Jo leaned into Sam’s shoulder.
“It has,” she agreed with a resigned sigh.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Sam led her
into the house, locking the kitchen door behind them, pocketing Jo’s set of
house keys.

In the foyer sat a small wheeled
suitcase and a purse.

“Did you come up with everything
you need for a few days?”

Jo nodded, looking a little numb
at this point.

“I was thinking I’d take you to
El Monte. It’s quiet and private and visitors have to enter through a lobby. Is
that okay?”

Jo allowed Sam to take the handle
of the small bag and lock the front door, following along like a puppy that had
recently been whipped.

Thirty minutes later, Sam was
wheeling the suitcase into a third story room where she checked the windows and
informed the desk not to let any calls through without first checking with Ms.
Robinet.

“I still want to come to work
tomorrow,” Jo said, coming out of the bathroom with a clean face and freshly
brushed hair.

“Call me in the morning. I can
pick you up but I want to be sure you’re ready for this. You might change your
mind and decide to simply hang out in this luxurious room and rest up for a few
days.” Sam fully expected Jo would soon want to return home. She faced many
adjustments right now.

The sheriff’s office was on her
way to Sweet’s Sweets so Sam stopped in to drop off Jo Robinet’s keys.

“The car was parked inside her
own garage all this time?” Beau asked.

“I only know it’s there now. Jo
swears the last time she saw it was after Ray Belatoni ran her off the road.
She ran away without even taking her purse, apparently, because that’s how she
ended up walking into my bakery last Thursday morning.” Sam recalled Jo’s torn
blouse and the scrapes on her face.

“But you said there’s no damage
to the car, no sign it was in an accident.”

“I sure couldn’t see anything.”

He tapped his pencil against the
desktop. “I guess I better bring her in for more questions.”

“Beau, I think she’s telling the
truth. You should have seen how upset she was when she saw the car there. It
was genuinely a shock to her.”

“Or maybe she freaked out because
you found the car. It’s the key that makes her whole story fall apart.”

Sam felt herself bristle. “Are
you saying I don’t know when someone’s lying to me?”

He gave her a long, steady stare.
“I’m only saying you seem to have a blind spot about this woman. Maybe you’ve
gotten close to Jo because of working together and you’re not seeing the
obvious.”

He
was
questioning her judgment. She dropped Jo’s keys on his desk and
walked out of his office. In the squad room, Lisa the forensics technician was
checking supplies in the black boxy kit she carried to all her assignments.
Beau came out of his office and handed the key ring and an assignment sheet
with the address and details of the tests she was to conduct. Her glance
wavered between Sam and Beau before she ducked out the back door with her
things.

“If Jo knew the car was there,
why didn’t she try to keep me from going inside with her? Why didn’t she hide
her vehicle in a better place?” she said defiantly.

“For that matter, why didn’t she
just go home and let herself in and drive herself to the funeral in her own
car, wearing her own clothes?” he countered.

“Okay, you’re right. None of it
makes sense. We’re on the same team here. I would never take someone else’s
side against you.” She reached out to touch his hand.

“The forensic results will tell
us something,” he said. “Meanwhile, I thought I’d drop by Zack’s former office
again. I overheard Chandler Lane saying something about holding a small
gathering at the offices for business acquaintances and customers to stop by
for a toast to Zack. The sales team will be back from Vegas, and that could get
interesting. Want to go along?”

Sam called the bakery where Jen
assured her everything was fine. “Spend the afternoon with Beau if you want.
We’re rolling along and it’s only a couple more hours anyway.”

Rolling along, but there was
still work to be done, Sam thought. The deadline for the big order of
chocolates was only four days away. At least she would have Jo’s help again
tomorrow—unless Beau decided to arrest her.

The parking lot at the Appleton
Center was full so Beau took a spot at the curb. Voices and waves of very
un-grief-stricken laughter filled the vestibule and hallways as they made their
way to the second floor.

“I’d heard that Zack wasn’t well
liked. Add booze and maybe his death is a cause for celebration,” Beau said
under his breath. “I guess we’ll keep our eyes open for whoever’s celebrating
the loudest, huh?”

“Maybe it’s just a case of
everyone showing up for a free party.”

Beau had pulled out the little
notebook he carried, reviewing names he’d been given on his previous two
visits. He showed her the list. “Remember, we want to know who might have been
angry enough with Zack to have killed him. Formal questioning isn’t going to
happen here, but pay attention to conversations and attitudes. The two sales
reps were out of town when I came before, so I want to chat with each of them.
I’ve spoken with the partner and the bookkeeper but you might see if either of
them has anything interesting to say.”

“Got it.” Sam caught Jo’s name
several times as they approached the offices. The missing wife’s sudden
appearance today had apparently sparked a lot of talk.

The double doors to ChanZack
Innovations stood wide open and a half-dozen people had stepped out into the
corridor. Beau recognized the two programmers he had interviewed earlier; three
young women appeared to have the nerdy guys completely enthralled with a story
about their favorite club in Santa Fe. The men nodded to Beau as he and Sam
entered the office’s reception area.