Sweet Somethings (Samantha Sweet Mysteries) by Connie Shelton Read Free Book Online Page B

Only forty or fifty to go—goody.
    She carried the box out to her
van, figuring she would ask everyone she came across to take a few. Beau might
even be able to put them in the public areas around the sheriff’s department
and the county courthouse. With less than a week to go, they really needed to
get these things posted soon around town.
    Feeling a little lucky that
neither Kelly nor Rupert were home when she got to their places, Sam left the
posters where they would be found—in the kitchen at Kelly’s and on a small tea
table on Rupert’s covered front porch. She got back into her van and drove away,
wishing she was merely going home to crawl into bed early.
    Unfortunately, her list of tasks
was way too long and she didn’t dare put off redoing the chocolates. The
upcoming week could only get more crazy with each passing day.
    She had no sooner pulled into the
driveway than her phone sent out a trill that meant a text message from Beau: Traffic accident
call—don’t wait dinner .
    Poor deluded husband—as if there
would have been any dinner tonight anyway. She replied with a chipper tone,
saying it was okay, she would catch up on some things at work. She parked
beside the big log house where both dogs met her with such enthusiasm that she
wished she really was going to stay home with them. She scooped food into their
bowls and went upstairs in search of her magic energy fix.
    The carved wooden box sat near the
sink in the large master bathroom, right where she had left it. The sight of it
reminded her that she really had meant to get back to the hospital to check on
Sarah Williams. With luck, maybe her previous visit had helped Sarah improve to
the point where she would soon go home. She picked up the box and closed her
eyes, sending positive messages out to her friend as the warmth of the wood permeated
her hands. The box’s energy traveled up her arms; the moment her hands began to
feel too hot she set it on the vanity top.
    Shaking her arms to dispel the
tingle, she made her plan—stop by the hospital to see Sarah, then back to the
bakery to work on chocolates.

 
    * *
*

 
    The parking lot at Holy Cross was
packed with early evening visitors. Sam cruised through it twice and ended up
parking on the street a half-block away. Inside, people hovered around the
doorways of rooms that were too small to accommodate the large families who believed
lots of bedside company was the cure for anything. The space around Sarah’s
room at the end of the hall was noticeably quiet. Sam peered inside to find the
bed empty. Oh, no. She spun around to see a nurse walking toward her.
    “Sarah Williams? Where is she?”
Hoping like crazy she’d gone home.
    “I’m afraid Ms. Williams slipped
into a coma this afternoon. We’ve moved her to ICU.” Seeing Sam’s stricken
expression, the nurse gave directions. Sam made her way to the wing with the
glass-fronted rooms full of beeping equipment.
    Marc Williams stood looking down
at Sarah, who seemed even smaller and more defenseless than ever. Sam walked
in, ignoring a nurse at the desk who seemed ready to ask questions.
    “It happened pretty suddenly while
I was gone to get some lunch,” Marc told her. “There is some bleeding in the
brain and the doctors are deciding when to do surgery.”
    “Can I hold her hand for a
minute?” she asked with a lump in her throat.
    “I’m sure that would be all
right.” He moved aside and Sam stepped to the side of the bed that had fewer
wires and tubes.
    She took Sarah’s hand and willed
some of her excess energy through the connection between them. Please get better, Sarah. Please come back. It seemed selfish to end the thought by begging for the story of the other
wooden box, the one in Ireland, but the idea did flash through her head for a
split second.
    Sarah stirred slightly but didn’t
blink or make a sound. After a couple of minutes Sam set her hand gently down
on the blanket. She gave Marc her phone number and asked him