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    Secret Sweets: A Sweet's Sweets Bakery Mystery
    Secret Sweets: A Sweet's Sweets Bakery Mystery
    Secret Sweets: A Sweet's Sweets Bakery Mystery
    Ebook268 pages2 hours

    Secret Sweets: A Sweet's Sweets Bakery Mystery

    By Connie Shelton

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    About this ebook

    Samantha Sweet’s husband, Beau, gets a call from a cousin he hasn’t seen in decades. Cecelia’s husband was recently murdered, and the local cops in their small town haven’t come up with a single suspect. She knows it wasn’t the random act of violence they’re claiming; Mark had been digging into something mysterious at his workplace and no one knows what kind of secrets he may have uncovered.

    Sam and Beau are on the road to Oklahoma to figure it out. Creston is a typical small town and no one wants to believe there’s a killer in their midst. But someone is hiding a secret that’s probably worth millions of dollars. And as Beau always says—behind most murders there’s a connection to either territory, love, or money. He and Sam just have to sort through the various suspects and motives to figure it out before the killer turns it back on them. Can they manage to catch the killer and still get home in time for the Thanksgiving holiday in Taos?

    Readers are raving about these lighthearted, relaxing, well-written books—Samantha may not be young, beautiful or have the perfect body, but she is intelligent, independent, and hard working, the kind of person you feel you already know.

    ~ ~ ~

    Praise for Connie Shelton’s previous mysteries:

    “The best yet!! Not only was Sweet Magic fantastic, it left me dying to see where life is headed for Samantha and her family! Heart-gripping, fast-paced, and amazing.” – J.J. 5-stars, online review

    “LOVE, LOVE these books!” —5 stars, online review

    “Fantastic! Impossible to put down!” – 5 stars, Amazon reader

    “Shelton again has done a superb job in bringing New Mexico to life.” —Albuquerque Journal

    “Connie Shelton gets better with every book she writes.” —The Midwest Book Review

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherColumbine Publishing Group, LLC
    Release dateJul 18, 2024
    ISBN9781649141842
    Secret Sweets: A Sweet's Sweets Bakery Mystery
    Author

    Connie Shelton

    Connie Shelton has been writing for more than twenty years and has taught writing (both fiction and nonfiction) since 2001. She is the author of the Charlie Parker mystery series and has been a contributor to several anthologies, including Chicken Soup For the Writer's Soul. "My husband and I love to do adventures. He flew helicopters for 35 years, a career that I've borrowed from in my Charlie Parker mysteries. We have traveled quite a lot and now divide our time between the American Southwest and a place on the Sea of Cortez. For relaxation I love art -- painting and drawing can completely consume me. I also really enjoy cooking, with whatever ingredients I find in whatever country we are in at the moment. We walk every day and love watching and photographing wildlife."

    Read more from Connie Shelton

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      Book preview

      Secret Sweets - Connie Shelton

      Chapter 1

      Samantha Sweet wiped a smear of chocolate from her face and stared at the racks of autumn colors. Sugar cookies glazed in shades of red and orange, brownies with chocolate frosting and tiny fall leaves on them, miniature pecan pies. The Halloween rush was over, and Thanksgiving was nearly three weeks away. Julio, her head baker, had taken his annual motorcycle run through Colorado and Wyoming and returned this morning. Becky’s kids were in school, and Jen—the girl who never took time off—swore she wouldn’t need a break until after Christmas.

      Sam felt this was the perfect time of year. Cool weather, brilliant autumn foliage, sunny days in which to relax, nights where a fire felt really good. She’d just begun to clear the mixing bowls and baking sheets from the worktable when the back door eased open and she spotted her daughter.

      I’ve got Ranger and Nellie ready to go, Kelly said. All clean and fresh. Shall I put them in your truck, or would you rather we find them a kennel to wait in?

      I’m just about done for the day. Sam smiled and carried the utensils to the sink where Julio already had soapy water waiting. I’ll meet you outside.

      Go ahead, Becky told her. I’ll get these goodies out to the display case so Jen will be ready for the after-school crowd.

      What about any custom orders?

      There are two birthday cakes due tomorrow, plus the book club’s chocolate—whatever you’d planned on.

      Yeah, gotta give that some thought. Sam pulled off her baker’s jacket and picked up her bag. Hopefully I’ll have some brilliant inspiration by morning.

      Hey, if not, I can hold back a tray of these brownies. Never knew that group to turn down a fabulous brownie. Becky winked as she set a plastic cover over the pastries.

      Sam called out a goodbye to Jen in the sales room, then walked out to her truck. There stood Kelly with their black Lab and border collie on leashes. Sam opened the back door and the dogs hopped up, one at a time.

      Something the matter? Sam asked, eyeing the frown-wrinkles on her daughter’s forehead. Ana’s okay, isn’t she?

      Oh yeah. She’s talked her daddy into taking their science lesson into the woods today. Kelly shrugged. Nah, it’s just that Riki’s been in a real mood all day. Nothing over there has gone right.

      Sam glanced toward the back door of Puppy Chic, the grooming salon where one of Kelly’s close friends had created a hugely successful business. Super busy?

      Not that so much. I dunno. She’s got something else going on. I’ll just shampoo dogs and keep my head down until it blows over. Kelly stepped in and gave Sam a hug. It will. You know Riki. She’s usually the picture of good cheer.

      True. Their British transplant friend always seemed to love life here in Taos, and rarely complained about anything.

      Okay then. I’ll take these two home and try to get them not to follow Beau out to the muddy side of the pasture again right away.

      Kelly laughed and gave each of the dogs a little tickle on the ears through the truck’s open window. Talk soon, Mom.

      Sam drove past the Plaza traffic, heading north from the center of town, noticing and appreciating the changing leaves. Soon, they would fade to brown before snow fell and provided a white vista for the winter months. She steered through the stone entry to the ranch, down the long driveway toward their log home, the dogs wriggling with excitement.

      Beau’s pickup was in its usual spot and she pulled her truck in beside his; the dogs ran to the front door the moment she let them out. When she opened the door, the heavenly scent of her husband’s special chile con carne drifted out. She took a deep breath.

      The dogs wasted no time in racing to the kitchen, where Beau stood at the stove, stirring the contents of the large stew pot, adjusting the temperature a little. Sam turned to hang her jacket on the wooden coat rack by the front door, noticing the fire that crackled in the stone fireplace. The last of the afternoon sun rays gleamed through the south-facing French doors and shone on the pine floor.

      Getting an early start on winter? she teased as she walked into the kitchen and slipped an arm around his waist.

      He sent a crooked little smile her way. Eh, yeah, I guess. I put the chile on early, the horses are already tended to, and you have to admit there’s a nip in the air. Supposed to be in the twenties tonight.

      It’s as good a reason as any I can think of. She stepped over and opened an upper cupboard. Shall I set the table, or would you like to relax with a drink before we eat?

      Either. You choose.

      She pulled out his favorite beer stein and a wine glass for herself. Beau set the lid on the kettle and poured the drinks, which they carried to the living room. They stood at the back doors, clinking their glasses, and enjoying the wide open view of the ranch. Outside, the two horses grazed near a narrow stream that cut a gentle path through the property.

      The electronic ring from the landline phone startled them both. No one ever called on that one, and they’d often discussed dropping the expense of it. Beau walked over to the cabinet where it sat and glanced at the caller ID.

      It’s showing my hometown area code and prefix, he mumbled, reaching for the handset, automatically hitting the speaker button as he answered.

      Beau, it’s Cecelia, came a voice through the line. I need your help.

      Cece? What on earth? He sent a puzzled look toward Sam.

      It’s about Mark, she continued, desperation seeping into her tone. He’s … he was murdered, Beau. You’re in law enforcement, and you’re away from this town. I don’t know who else to turn to.

      Chapter 2

      Sam saw it in his face, the old thrill of a case calling out to him. For two years now, he’d said he wanted no part of his old job, that being a rancher was everything to him. But now his expression told a different story. She slipped upstairs to change out of her bakery clothing, leaving him to take the call in private.

      All right, Cecelia, Beau was saying, his voice steady as Sam closed their bedroom door. I’m listening.

      When she returned, ten minutes later, he’d set the phone down and was back in the kitchen.

      You okay, hon? Samantha’s voice floated from the doorway, warm and gentle.

      That was my cousin Cecelia, Beau muttered, stirring the pot mechanically, his expression showing that he was processing something completely unexpected.

      Sam moved into the room. She said something about Mark being murdered? Who’s Mark?

      Her husband. Cece is a little younger than me, couple years, I guess. We all grew up in the same neighborhood in Creston, Oklahoma. Her dad was my dad’s brother. Up until my family moved to New Mexico, we attended the same school, went to the same church, practically did everything together.

      She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, a silent nudge to share more. And Mark? Did you know him too?

      Yeah. He was in my classes. We weren’t close-close, if you know what I mean. I had ranch chores every minute I wasn’t in school, and I think he played football. I didn’t have time to follow that much.

      So, they were high school sweethearts, Sam mused.

      Uh-huh. Dad and Mama and I, we’d moved away by then, but we kept up with the rest of the Cardwells, until Daddy died.

      Why do you think she called you?

      Did you hear the part where she mentioned my law enforcement experience? I think she thinks I’m still sheriff here, that I can magically look into some database and find answers for her. He ran a hand through his hair. I just reckon she’s scared, Sam. Beau’s gaze was distant, focused on something in a distant past.

      Sounds like she needs you, Beau. Samantha’s voice was soft but firm, a gentle prod toward action.

      Thing is, he sighed, I haven’t seen Cecelia in years. We … drifted, after that mess with Uncle Ray’s will. She never did forgive me for taking sides.

      Okay, I’ll have to hear that story some day. But family’s family, Beau. There will always be a connection, and sometimes, they’re the only ones you’ve got. You should go there, try to help.

      I guess you’re right. Can’t let the past get in the way of doing what’s needed. A new resolve flickered in Beau’s eyes, the spark reigniting his sense of purpose. You’re coming too. Well, if you want to and can get away.

      Sam’s bakery duties buzzed through her mind. It wasn’t as if a business owner could just take off on a whim. Mechanically, she reached into the cupboard for their favorite chile bowls, while Beau stirred up a quick cornbread mix and put the muffins into the oven. While the cornbread baked, she made some calls, catching Jen as she was locking up Sweet’s Sweets for the night and Becky at home. Both of them assured her they could manage fine. The next couple of weeks would be slow, and even with the need for dozens of Thanksgiving pies before the end of the month, Julio had the recipes down pat.

      Go, Becky repeated. You and Beau can use some time away together, and he’ll have fun reconnecting with his cousins.

      Sam doubted that fun was on the agenda, but she let Becky stay with that impression.

      When she called Kelly, she was more forthcoming with the reason for the trip, but even her daughter assured her that everything at home would be fine. I can even figure out how to feed and groom the horses if you need me to come by your place while you’re gone.

      Well, at least you’re off the hook for that—Danny’s here, and I’m sure Beau will give him complete instructions. Plus, the neighbors always pitch in to help each other, if needed.

      I’m just a phone call away, Kelly reminded.

      Calls, texts, emails, Zoom … the world had definitely gotten simpler to manage, in some ways, than when Sam was a young woman.

      She set her phone down when she heard the oven timer. They dished up bowls of chile and settled at the table set for two, their little sanctuary amid the brewing storm.

      So, it looks like I can pack tonight, put the extra food in the freezer, and be ready to leave in the morning, she told him.

      Sounds perfect. I’ll get Danny all squared away, right after dinner. The dogs can stay with him, out in the casita. Then I’ll call Cecelia back.

      Nellie, the border collie, perked her ears, somehow knowing Beau was talking about them. Being around Danny Flores meant extra treats. The guy was known to be a soft touch.

      When Beau called his cousin back and told her they would be on the road, heading in her direction tomorrow, she sounded teary.

      Beau, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it than a random act of violence, like the local cops are saying. Mark was onto something going on at work—the computer chip manufacturing plant here in Creston. I’m scared, Beau. There’s always been talk of corruption … I don’t know who to trust.

      Samantha, slicing into a fresh-baked loaf of bread, looked over her shoulder, her keen eyes reading the tension in Beau’s face. She placed the knife down gently and sealed the two halves of the loaf into plastic bags.

      Mark was digging into the company’s dealings, and you think that got him killed?

      Yes, I do, Cecelia’s voice broke, a muffled sob breaking her composure. And I don’t know what to do.

      Okay, Cece, Beau began, his tone firm yet comforting. Keep quiet about your thoughts, locally. I want you to keep your head down until Sam and I get there. I’ll look into it then.

      Thank you, Beau. Thank you! The relief in Cecelia’s voice was palpable. Be safe, Beau. And … I’m sorry, for everything,

      He ended the call and turned toward Sam. Guess we’d better get busy packing.

      Do you think it’ll raise eyebrows, the sheriff returning home?

      We’re just visiting family, comforting my cousin in her time of need. As far as I know, not many in Creston today will know that I’ve been in law enforcement all these years. I was just a kid when we left.

      True. Sam finished tidying the kitchen while Beau called his ranch hand, Danny, and filled him in on the plan.

      Upstairs, Sam pulled their travel bags from the closet, fondly remembering that their last big trip had been their honeymoon in Ireland. Such a lot had happened in their lives since then—her foray into the candy business, Kelly’s marriage and the birth of their granddaughter, and the frightening drama surrounding the magic boxes. Her eyes were drawn to the dresser top, where the carved box held her jewelry. Better take that along to Oklahoma, she decided.

      Beau came upstairs. I took the dogs over to spend the night with Danny. No sense in getting them worried about us driving out in the morning. The minute I picked up their food bag they were completely on board and racing each other to the casita.

      Sam chuckled, handing him one of the suitcases. He opened his dresser drawer and pulled out shirts, socks, and boxers.

      Hm. He handed Sam an old photograph. It’s Mark and Cecelia at some family barbecue. Must have been about the time they got engaged.

      Mark’s smile was wide, his arm slung easily around Cecelia’s shoulders. She had big hair, very ’80s, and his dark hair was collar-length. His brown eyes seemed intense, even in the casual setting.

      Beau set the photo back in the drawer, closing it. Mark was always knee-deep in some cause or another, fervent as a preacher sometimes. I wonder if he was still that way, not keeping quiet about things he didn’t like at his workplace.

      That could explain a lot. Sam turned to the closet, pulling out one dressy outfit but keeping most of her choices casual. She couldn’t imagine a town the size of Creston having too many places where she’d need to go fancy.

      Within twenty minutes they’d filled both bags, and Sam had gathered a couple notebooks and her laptop, which she tucked into its case.

      I’ll set these by the front door so we can get an early start, she said, then I think I’m up for a hot chocolate. How about you?

      He nodded as she headed out of the bedroom. When they met up at the kitchen door a few minutes later, he beamed that winning smile at her. I’m glad you’re going with me.

      Looks like retirement’s on hold, eh, cowboy? Samantha’s voice was steady, her support unwavering as she poured two mugs of steaming cocoa, the rich chocolate aroma wrapping around them like a comforting blanket.

      They stepped out to the back deck, mugs in hand. Beau gazed out the window, where the vast New Mexico sky stretched endlessly above, a billion stars visible in the inky black. Tomorrow they’d trade the tranquility of Taos for the unknown of Creston, but for now, he’d savor the sweetness of home and hot cocoa.

      Sam studied his face from the corner of her eye. Taking on a case, especially one outside his old jurisdiction, gave her a shiver of unease. But she could see the eagerness beneath his carefully guarded expression.

      Chapter 3

      Not surprisingly, neither of them slept deeply and by five a.m. they were lying beside each other, wide awake. Without a word, they tossed the covers aside and began dressing. Sam had kept a box of muffins from the bakery, and they brewed coffee to fill a thermos. The quick breakfast would keep them going until they put some miles behind them.

      All right, Sheriff, Samantha chuckled. Next stop, Creston.

      He shot a quick glance in her direction at the use of his old title. Next stop, Creston, he echoed, a dash of anticipation in his voice.

      As they loaded their gear into the truck, the sun glowed behind Taos Mountain, glazing the New Mexico sky with hues of orange and red. The road stretched before them, an invitation for the case they were about to embark on. Sam settled into her seat, happy to have Beau do the driving this time.

      Enjoy the mountain scenery while you can, he said as they pulled onto the highway. After the first hour, it gets pretty flat out there.

      We could stop in Angel Fire for a heartier breakfast, she reminded, knowing he was always up for eggs in some form. I hear there are a couple of really good places there.

      And there were. Forty minutes from home, they settled onto chairs at a cute bakery and soon had plates of huevos rancheros before them.

      Not to belittle your muffins, Sam, but this is more like what’s it’s gonna take to sustain me for the trip.

      Sam just laughed. She was enjoying the break from her own cooking as well. The steaming plate of tortillas topped with beans, eggs, and green chile sauce hit the spot. Thirty minutes later they were back in the truck, making their way past Eagle Nest Lake, through the little town of the same name, then into the curving road of Cimarron Canyon. Beyond the town of Cimarron, the road did, indeed, straighten out and the scenery became nothing but open prairie.

      I think I’ll see if I can dig up anything online that might be helpful, Sam said, pulling out her phone.

      Good. I’d be interested in seeing what the local news coverage said about Mark’s death, if they published anything at all.

      She tapped in some search words and came up with two mentions of Mark Mitchell in Creston, Oklahoma. One was a standard obituary, listing Cecelia Cardwell Mitchell as his surviving wife, no children. The other article was about the murder. Sam read through it quickly, then gave Beau the highlights.

      It’s disappointingly short, she said. Mark’s name is barely mentioned. The story is mostly focused on a mugging in a parking garage. The local police chief is quoted as saying it was an unfortunate incident and there are few leads, but citizens of Creston can rest assured that the police are doing their utmost to solve this case.

      Basically, boosting his own ego and doing precious little.

      Right.

      Pretty much what Cece told me last night.

      I got the feeling she doesn’t think very highly of the local cops. Sam closed her phone app and focused her eyes back on the road.

      Beau gave a sigh. Pretty much anybody who doesn’t get the answers they want finds fault with law enforcement. I’ve been there a few times too, taking the blame for not solving a crime. So, I’m staying open on that question. We’ll just have to see what we learn when we get there.

      "But still, I’d go cautiously about

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