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us,” Samantha went on. She glanced toward Nancy’s table. “Ready, Brock?”
    Smiling broadly, Brock stood and walked over to her. “Here goes!” he said. With a flourish he picked up a corner of the white cloth and whisked it off the dessert.
    Then his smile turned into a shudder of disgust. “What is this?” he shouted.
    Everyone craned their necks to see what he was talking about—and a confused murmur filled the room.
    On the table was a spectacular white-chocolate cake—a replica of Brock’s face. It was stunning, except for one thing.
    The whole surface of the cake was pulsating with a living blanket of ants!

Chapter

Four
    W HAT IS THIS, Samantha?” Rage and horror were mixed in Brock’s voice, and Nancy couldn’t blame him. She had seen few sights as bizarre and sickening.
    Samantha drew a shaky breath and staggered backward a few steps. She looked as if she was about to faint, but her voice was steady as she summoned a waiter.
    â€œPlease take this back to the kitchen and dispose of it immediately.” As the waiter gripped the cart and wheeled it away, Samantha returned to her seat, motioning for Brock to do the same. Once there, she beckoned to another waiter.
    â€œCould you ask the chefs to put together another dessert immediately?”
    â€œAnother—another dessert?” the waiter faltered. “What kind, Miss Patton?”
    â€œThere’s plenty of ice cream in the freezers, isn’t there?” Jake suggested, coming to the rescue.
    Samantha gratefully turned to her stepbrother. “Yes, and lots of fudge sauce. We can have sundaes.”
    Nodding, Jake jumped to his feet. “I’ll go help in the kitchen. I’m sure they could use an extra hand.”
    The whole conversation had taken about thirty seconds. Glancing around, Nancy could tell that only the guests closest to the cake saw what had happened. But the people who had seen the ants had disgusted expressions on their faces.
    â€œDarling, let’s get out of here,” Nancy heard a wan-looking woman at the next table say to her husband. “I feel sick.” Her husband helped her to her feet, and they hurried out of the room.
    Samantha stared bleakly at Nancy. “I sure am getting a lot of practice calming down guests,” she commented. “I’d better fix things up.” She stood up to address the crowd.
    â€œThey say bad things come in threes,” she called cheerfully. Nancy and George exchanged an admiring glance. Samantha sounded unbelievably poised. “So I’m sure we’ll have no more trouble from now on!
    â€œI think you’ll find that our replacement dessert will take your minds off anything unpleasant. You’re just about to taste a good old-fashioned sundae made with homemade vanilla ice cream and my mother’s fabulous ultra-fudge sauce. Here come the waiters now!”
    She gestured toward some waiters carrying trays of sundaes through the kitchen door. Several “oohs” rose up from the diners.
    â€œLet’s hope that works,” Samantha said under her breath, sinking back into her chair. “I’m not sure how much longer I can continue to smooth things over.”
    â€œI’m not sure, either,” Brock Sawyer told her flatly. “I’m a pretty good actor, but it’s getting hard to act as if I’m having a good time. I think it might be time for me to head back to California.”
    At Brock’s words Nancy darted a quick glance around the table. Jake and Mr. Tagley seemed to be concerned, but to Nancy’s surprise, Mrs. Tagley looked oddly happy. Why would she want to lose the festival’s star? Brock’s participation was a definite plus for the inn. If he left, the festival’s reputation could suffer. Why would Mrs. Tagley be happy about something that might hurt the inn?
    On the other hand, Nancy wasn’t at all surprised to see that Tim was