Free Sweet Masterpiece - The First Samantha Sweet Mystery by Connie Shelton Page A

this way,” he said. He grabbed a few
corn chips and tossed them onto the chile, then spooned up a big
bite that included a couple of them. Sam did the same and agreed.
Heaven.
    “You could cook for me any time,” she said,
once she got the chance to take a breath.
    “You’d have to like chile a whole lot. This
and grilled cheese sandwiches are about the only things I can
make.”
    The idea of this chile and a grilled
cheese sandwich nearly made her swoon. The sun dropped below the
horizon, leaving the silhouettes of black volcanic cones and
turning the few clouds into every shade of flame. Cicadas droned
their metallic stridulation in the soft dusk.
    “I could die this very minute and be happy,”
she told him.
    “Well, we’ll hope that doesn’t happen.”
    “You know what I mean.” She took another hit
from the wine bottle and passed it over. “I feel so lucky right
now. What a spectacular evening.”
    “I’m glad you like the spot. I was afraid you
might have been hoping for a restaurant dinner, some fancy place.
Course I worried about it a little too late, after I already had
the basket loaded up.”
    “Beau, it’s just right. Absolutely perfect.”
And it was. She couldn’t think of a more relaxed, fun way to get to
know him better. She would not call it a date, and she would
do her best to ignore that kiss.
    They finished off the chips and dip, made a
good-sized dent in the quantity of chile, and were sipping at the
last of the wine when his phone rang. Okay, an almost perfect
evening.
    He glanced at the readout. “OMI’s office. I
better take this.”
    Sam leaned back on her elbows and stretched
her legs out as he conversed quietly. The first star showed in the
east and soon there were a dozen of them.
    “Sorry. I knew Archie was hustling to get the
autopsy finished tonight so he could take the whole weekend off. He
wanted to let me know the gist of it.”
    “Can you tell me?”
    “It’s Riley Anderson. Hair from a brush in
the master bedroom matches the body’s DNA. Archie is ruling natural
causes. There was lots of lung congestion, no wounds or trauma.
Probably untreated pneumonia, which he says is consistent with an
age-related death.”
    “So, now what? Do you find relatives of Mr.
Anderson? Bury him back on the property or what?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Since he was in default on his mortgage, the
USDA has the power to auction off the property, so someone else
will soon own it. Are they going to want a stranger’s body buried
in their back yard?”
    “Probably not. I guess the answer is to find
him a spot in the public cemetery. Technically, a pauper’s grave.
Unless someone comes along who can claim kinship and then they can
make their own arrangements.”
    “What about the guy who was living with him?”
Sam asked. “The neighbor hinted that they might have had a
relationship.”
    “You talked to the neighbors?” He gave her a
firm stare.
    “The last time I was there a lady named Betty
McDonald came walking up. I just kind of let her ramble on.”
    “I’ll run some background on Anderson,” he
said. “See if we can track down someone.”
    The sky was completely dark now and at least
a billion stars were visible, out here away from town. Sam felt she
could be content to stare up at them all night but could tell that
Beau was getting restless. It was time to call it a night and go
home. They used the big flashlight to be sure they’d left nothing
behind, then stowed the picnic gear in the Explorer.
    “I sure didn’t want to cut the evening
short,” he said as he turned into her drive. “But I’m on duty early
tomorrow and I’d like to stop off and get that autopsy report they
faxed over so I can look at it yet tonight.”
    “Hey, duty calls. I understand.” She, too,
had work planned for the morning.

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 11
     
    Sam awoke Saturday morning feeling lazy. At
the suggestion of Delbert Crow, she’d planned to dash over to
Bertha Martinez’s