“Hmm, interesting,” Samantha said, trying to concentrate on the detective’s words rather than the way his triceps tightened as he clasped his hands together.
“But I have to be honest with you,” he continued. “I can’t promise that I’m going to delve too deep into your investigation. I am still obligated to the Gattenburg Police Department. My loyalty lies with them. But you asked me to come out and meet Kenzie, and after giving it a second thought, I didn’t see the harm in that.”
“Understood. Now if I may be honest with you, it seems as if there’s more to you not wanting to get involved in this than just the Gattenburg PD. You’ve said you’re a by-the-book man, that you respect the chief. I get that you don’t want to make waves. But I sense there’s something else keeping you from getting in too deep. Am I wrong?”
The detective propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands.
“No. You’re not wrong,” he admitted. “Let’s just say that I got burned back when I was working for the Chicago PD. I got a little too wrapped up in a case, and before I knew it, bam. I was in way over my head.”
Samantha observed how the detective’s eyes darted anxiously around the bar. He appeared to be in his head again, reliving whatever it was he’d gone through.
“I’m really sorry to hear that, Detective. But obviously you came out of it unscathed, right?”
“Barely,” he mumbled, finally making eye contact with her. “I’m telling you, that time in my life was crazy. It all went down right before I moved to Gattenburg. Actually, that experience was the primary reason why I moved the Gattenburg.”
“Really? It was so bad that you had to leave town?”
Detective Harris drained his mug of beer, then swiped a napkin roughly across his mouth. “Yep. It was. But enough of all that. Let’s get back to Kenzie. What did you find out?”
The mood between the pair suddenly shifted. Their warm, flirtatious energy had been replaced by an air of cool standoffishness. Samantha couldn’t help but wonder whether the situation in Chicago involved a woman.
She was dying to press the detective for more information. But judging from his expression, which was now twisted in frustration, she decided to leave it alone.
“Well, first of all,” Samantha began, “I have to tell you that Ava gave me the names of several Westman’s Automotive workers she thought I should talk to. I reached out to all of them. Kenzie was the only person who agreed to speak with me. I found that interesting.”
“That is interesting. But it could just be that they don’t want to get involved in Jacob’s case for fear of losing their jobs.”
“Or they have something to hide,” Samantha rebutted. “But anyway, Kenzie shared with me that she and Jacob worked side by side on the production line, so that’s how they’d become such good friends. But check this out. Kenzie is also Collin’s ex-girlfriend.”
Detective Harris cocked his head to the side. “Is she? Now that puts a different perspective on things.”
“Yes, it does.”
Gregory sat back in his chair and straightened his hunched shoulders. Samantha could sense that he was coming out of the funk he’d fallen into after talking about Chicago.
“Would you like another beer before we really get into this?” she asked him.
“No, thanks. I’m good for now. Let’s keep going. I really wanna hear this.”
“Cool,” Samantha said, encouraged by his enthusiasm. “So Kenzie and I discussed Westman’s second-chance drug rehabilitation program. She told me that most of the employment opportunities go to people with felony drug convictions, especially those who’ve recently been released from prison. But the thing is, three of the former addicts who were hired went missing shortly after they completed the program.”
Detective Harris’s mouth fell open. He leaned into the table and squinted his eyes curiously. “Wait, what do you mean, went missing?”
“Exactly what I said. These workers just disappeared without a trace. Months ago.”
“Well, does Kenzie know anything about what came of the investigations into their disappearances?”
“When I asked her that question, she replied with a resounding nothing. Apparently, the missing men had been ravaged by drug addiction and all the trouble that comes along with it. So their families and friends had written them off and no one was keeping tabs on them. These men were hoping to turn their lives around through Westman’s program. But before they really had the opportunity to do so, they just up and vanished.”
Gregory reached into his jacket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. Samantha was pleasantly surprised when he opened it up and began taking notes.
“Old-school, huh,” she joked. “Most of us living in the modern world take notes on our cell phone apps. But don’t mind me. Do your thing.”
“I will,” he quipped before quickly turning serious again. “So did Kenzie mention how the other employees at Westman’s reacted after the employees went missing?”
“She did. The crazy thing is, they really didn’t even have a reaction. According to Kenzie, none of her coworkers gave the disappearances a second thought because of the employees’ backgrounds. Everyone just assumed that they’d reverted back to their old ways and didn’t want to work anymore.”
“Wow. That’s pretty sad.”
“It is, isn’t it? But there is one person who was extremely concerned about the missing men and willing to speak up about it. I’ll give you one guess as to who it was.”
“Jacob?”
“Bingo.”
“Oh boy,” Detective Harris sighed as he rigorously wrote in his notebook.
Despite the unfortunate circumstances they were meeting under, Samantha couldn’t help but feel an exhilarating thrill at the idea of the detective’s involvement in Jacob’s case. He may have gotten burned in Chicago, but it certainly appeared as though he was rising from the ashes now that he was in Gattenburg.
“But here’s where the story really gets deep,” she continued. “Right before Jacob was found dead, he’d decided to talk to Collin about the missing employees. A few of them worked on Jacob’s assembly team, and he’d gotten to know them pretty well. So he was happy to see them turning their lives around and getting back on their feet.”
“You know, the more I hear about Jacob, the more I realize how decent a guy he was.”
“He really was a good man. And what’s sad is that Kenzie tried to warn him against confronting Collin. But Jacob did anyway, thinking that Collin would talk his father into opening a serious investigation into the disappearances.”
“Clearly that didn’t go over too well,” Gregory retorted.
“Not at all. The day that Jacob was scheduled to meet with Collin was the last time Kenzie saw him alive.”
“Whoa,” Detective Harris uttered, tapping his pen against the notebook. “Did Kenzie happen to give you the names of the men who went missing?”
“No, she didn’t.” Samantha grabbed her cell phone. “I’ll shoot her a text message right now and ask if she can send them to me.”
“Good. I’d like to run them through the missing-persons databases and see what comes up. I can also casually ask around the station and see if any of the other detectives have looked into their cases.”
Once her text message was delivered, Samantha grabbed her glass and held it to her lips, hoping it would hide the look of elation spread across her face. As much as the detective tried to fight it, he just couldn’t seem to stop himself from delving deeper into the investigation with her.
Samantha glanced down at her watch. It was already after nine o’clock. She didn’t want the night with Detective Harris to end. But she was eager to get home and knock out the edits on her article for Elevate, then update her blog with all the explosive new information she’d received.
The detective
reached across the table and nudged her hand playfully. “You’re already writing out your latest blog post in your head, aren’t you?”
“Oh, so you’re a psychic now?” Samantha laughed, grabbing her handbag and slipping her phone inside.
“I wouldn’t say all that. It’s just written all over that determined, impassioned look on your face.”
His intense gaze caused her cheeks to burn self-consciously. Samantha drained her wineglass and swallowed hard. “Well, you’re actually right, because yes, that’s exactly what I was doing.”
“I can understand that. I’m not gonna lie, this case has piqued my interest. Especially now that you’ve told me about those missing employees. Make sure you send me their names as soon as you get them.”
Samantha was once again hit with a heady feeling of excitement knowing that Detective Harris was getting more involved in the case.
“I won’t forget. Trust me.”
“And hey, can you do something for me?”
“Of course. What do you need?” Samantha asked.
“I need you to stop calling me Detective Harris and start calling me Gregory.”
She gazed at him. She could feel a shift in their rapport. It was taking on a much more personal tone, and she was savoring every second of it.
“I think I can do that for you, Gregory.”
“Good. Now, may I walk you out to your car?”
“Yes, you may. Thank you.”
The detective stood up and threw on his leather jacket. Samantha diverted her eyes, struggling not to gawk at his athletic physique. When they strolled through the bar and outside to the parking lot, she found herself resisting the urge to slide her hand into his.
Just as they reached her car, Samantha’s cell phone buzzed.
“Oh, good!” she exclaimed after checking her text messages. “Kenzie just sent me the names of the missing Westman’s employees. I’ll forward them to you now.”
“Great. I’ll look into those as soon as I’m in front of my computer. And once you go public with that information on your blog, I’ll have a good reason to be searching for them.”
“Thank you again for doing that. And for coming out tonight. I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”
“I do. And you’re welcome.”
The pair stared at one another silently for several seconds before Samantha interrupted the intimate moment.
“I guess I’d better get going.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ll be in touch soon with whatever info I’m able to find on those missing employees.”
“Sounds good, Detecti—I mean, Gregory.”
“All right then, Samantha.” He smirked. “Talk to you soon.”
He waited as she climbed inside her car and pulled away. Samantha glanced in the rearview mirror, waving before turning out of the parking lot and speeding off into the night.
CHAPTER FOUR
Samantha’s eyes shot open. The sound of shattering glass jolted her out of sleep. She blinked her eyes to clear her blurry vision as she stared into the darkness of her bedroom.
But now, as she raised her head and peeled back the comforter, complete silence filled the air.
Maybe I was dreaming, she thought, slowly sinking back into the pillow. She glanced over at the clock. It was almost three in the morning.
“Ugh,” she moaned, patting her chest in an effort to ease her pounding heartbeat. She listened. Nothing. It had to be a dream. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to fall back asleep.
Just as she felt herself drifting off, the crackling sound of shattering glass once again invaded her consciousness.
She gasped, sat straight up, gripped her comforter and pulled it farther up her body. Her watery eyes widened with fear. When silence once again filled the air, she reached for her cell phone and crept out of bed.
Her bedroom door was cracked open. She didn’t know whether to go out into the living room of her two-story bungalow and see what was going on or hide out and call the police.
Boom!
Samantha screamed as she heard her lamps crash to the floor out in the living room. She ran inside her bathroom and locked the door, her hands trembling as she dialed 9-1-1.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“Yes, my name is Samantha Vincent, and someone’s trying to break into my house!” she hissed into the phone.
“What is the address, ma’am?”
“Thirty-five fifty-one East Evergreen Street. Please send someone out as fast as you can.”
“I’m alerting the police officers now, ma’am. Are you still inside the house?”
“Yes, I am,” Samantha said, crouching down against the back of the door and wrapping her arms around her legs tightly. “I’ve locked myself in the bathroom.”
“Okay, Miss Vincent. Stay in there. I’m going to wait on the line with you until the officers arrive. A squad car is on the way. I’ll let you know as soon as they get there so that you can let them in.”
“Thank you.”
Samantha pressed her ear against the door. There was no sound coming from the other side.
“I don’t hear any more noise,” she whispered.
“Good. But please, just stay put. While you wait on the authorities to arrive, can you tell me what happened?”
“Yes. I was awakened by the sound of shattering glass. I think my living room windows were busted out. And I don’t know whether someone has entered the house, but I’m pretty sure some of my possessions have been destroyed.”
Samantha felt her entire body shake with fear. She thought about calling Gregory but didn’t want to hang up with the dispatcher.
“Okay, Miss Vincent. I’m making note of that. The police officers just informed me that they’re turning down your block now. They’ll let me know when they’re at the front door. Did you see anyone inside the house?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you believe that someone entered the house at some point?”
The thought of an intruder breaking into her home caused Samantha to release a chest-rattling sob. “I don’t know. I haven’t been out of my bedroom.”
When the doorbell chime rang out, she jumped away from the door.
“Ma’am, the police officers are outside your home. Do you feel safe leaving the bathroom and going to let them in?”
Samantha grabbed her emerald silk robe that was hanging on the back of the door and slipped it on over her matching floor-length gown.
“I do,” she told the operator.
“Okay. I’ll let them know you’re on the way out.”
“Thank you.” Samantha unlocked the door and gradually opened it. She peeked out into the darkness.
“Are you still there?” she asked the dispatcher.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m still here. I won’t disconnect the call until you’re with the police officers.”
Samantha found comfort in the operator’s presence, despite it being over the phone. “Good. Thanks.”
She tiptoed out of the bathroom and slid her feet into a pair of furry silver slippers, then shuffled toward the bedroom door.
“I’m going out into the living room now.”
“Okay, Miss Vincent. Just keep your eyes open and be careful.”
“I will.”
Samantha squeezed the door handle and pulled it open, then crept down the hall. When she turned on a light and laid eyes on the living room, she almost fell to her knees.
“Oh no,” she cried, collapsing against the wall.
Her windows had been shattered, and several bricks were strewn across the floor. Just as she’d suspected, her crystal lamps had been destroyed along with her handcrafted indigo art glass vases. The mirrored end tables on either side of her sofa were covered in cracks.
�
��Miss Vincent, are you still there?”
“Yes. I’m here. I just came out into the living room, and it’s been destroyed. The windows are busted out and there’s glass everywhere. My lamps and vases are ruined. There’re bricks all over on the floor. And now I’m seeing that bottles were thrown through the windows, too.”
Samantha dropped her head in her hands. She felt so vulnerable and violated. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who was behind the attack. It had Collin Wentworth’s name written all over it.
She had uploaded the latest post about Jacob’s murder to her blog earlier that night. Word was getting around town that she was covering the case and looking for leads. She’d been stopped several times in the grocery store, coffee shop and deli by her readers, who would inundate her with questions. They all had various theories—some wild, some realistic. But one thing was for certain. Everyone suspected that Collin had had something to do with Jacob’s death and felt that he should have cooperated with the investigation.
Samantha was jolted out of her thoughts when the doorbell rang again.
“Ma’am, the police officers are waiting on you to answer the door,” the dispatcher said. “Are you able to let them in?”
“Yes, I am.”
Samantha slunk through the living room, struggling to avoid stepping on the shards of glass. But she soon deemed her efforts impossible considering there were fragments everywhere.
“Forget it,” she muttered, hoping her slippers’ rubber soles could withstand the myriad fragments as she made her way to the front door.
When Samantha opened it, two police officers she didn’t recognize were standing on the other side. Judging from the looks on their scowling faces, they weren’t happy to be there.
“Operator,” she said, “thank you for staying on the line with me. I’m letting the officers in now.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Vincent. I hope you’re able to get everything resolved.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Harlequin Intrigue July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 42