She disconnected the call and opened the door wider, her legs trembling as she stepped to the side. “Hello, Officers. Please, come in.”
A short, stubby policeman with slick dark hair sauntered inside first without bothering to greet her. His long-faced, lanky partner followed him. He was carrying a cup of coffee and greeted Samantha with a nod of the head before tipping his hat.
“Good evening,” he said through his thin-lipped mouth. “Or morning, I should say.”
“Wow,” the stubby officer uttered. “What happened here?”
“I was awakened by the sound of shattering glass. So I hid in the bathroom and called nine-one-one. When you all arrived, I came out to the living room and saw all this damage that was done.”
“Yeah, this is pretty messed up,” the officer said nonchalantly. He walked over to the couch and bent down, taking a closer look at the broken lamps.
The sound of glass crunching underneath his shoes, along with his lackluster demeanor, sent a streak of anger through Samantha.
“So, I’m sorry, what’s your name?” she asked the stubby one.
“Officer Baxter. That’s Officer Miller,” he mumbled.
Samantha opened the notes app on her phone and typed in both of their names. “Okay, Officer Baxter, you’re asking me what happened, but neither you nor Officer Miller are recording my statement.”
“I am so sorry, Miss Vincent,” Officer Miller said, quickly whipping a notepad out of his back pocket. “I’m just shocked by all this damage. Can you tell us what happened here?”
Samantha watched as he walked around the room eyeing the wreckage while Officer Baxter stood in one spot, glaring at his partner angrily. She resisted the urge to shake her head and instead focused on Officer Miller.
“I heard the sound of broken glass,” she began, “hid inside the bathroom and called nine-one-one. When you all arrived, I came out here and saw all this damage that had been done.”
“Any idea why someone would vandalize your property to this extent?” Officer Miller asked.
“Well, I run a true crime cold case blog called Someone Knows Something, and I’m currently covering Jacob Jennings’s murder investigation—”
“Murder.” Officer Baxter snorted. “Jacob wasn’t murdered. Everybody knows he overdosed on—”
“Come on, Baxter,” Officer Miller interrupted before turning back to Samantha. “I’m sorry, Miss Vincent. Please, continue.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, tightening the belt on her robe and folding her arms in front of her. “I was saying that I’m covering Jacob Jennings’s murder investigation on my blog. And I find it awfully coincidental that this happened after I posted a pretty controversial update today where I called out the general manager of Westman’s Automotive Factory, Collin Wentworth. I’m sure you two have heard of him.”
“Of course we’ve heard of Collin,” Officer Baxter barked. “He’s Chief Wentworth’s son. Why would you be calling him out in an article about Jacob OD’ing on drugs?”
As he waited for Samantha to respond, the policeman poked out his chest and gripped his holster. His hostile behavior told her everything she needed to know about his thoughts on Collin’s involvement in Jacob’s death.
While Samantha wanted to open up to Officer Miller, she questioned just how much she should share in the presence of Officer Baxter. It was becoming clearer by the second that he was not on her side.
“I just wondered whether the blog post hit a nerve,” she continued carefully, “and someone did this as a warning. Maybe to try and convince me to stop reporting on the case.”
Officer Baxter bent down and picked up one of the bricks off the floor. Samantha was surprised to see that he’d done so without wearing a glove. Now his fingerprints would be on it as well as the perpetrator’s. She glanced over at Officer Miller, hoping he’d reprimand Officer Baxter for tainting the crime scene. But he was so busy staring down at his notepad that he hadn’t even noticed.
“Welp, first of all,” Officer Baxter began, “I think I’d be pissed off, too, if I was being accused of something I didn’t do on some random blog. So, Samantha, is it?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
“You have to be careful going around blaming folks for crimes they didn’t commit,” he continued. “The medical examiner ruled that Jacob’s cause of death was an accidental drug overdose.”
“You mean the same medical examiner who has a very close relationship with Chief Wentworth as well as every important official in Gattenburg?”
“Look, I’m not going there with you. Now I know word around town is that Jacob may have been murdered. But you’re not gonna help solve anything by inserting your uneducated, uninformed opinion. You don’t have the authority or the expertise to even be speaking on the matter.”
Samantha opened her mouth in an attempt to fire back at him, but Officer Baxter continued his verbal ambush without taking a breath.
“And before you go accusing Collin of being behind this attack on your house, keep in mind anybody could’ve done it. We gets calls every week about some high school kids vandalizing property all over town.”
“Have any arrests been made?” Samantha asked as she glared back at him. A sick feeling seeped into her stomach. It was obvious that he was team Collin all the way.
“Unfortunately, no.” Officer Baxter sighed nonchalantly. “But we’re workin’ on it.” He tossed the brick he’d been holding down onto the couch and turned to Officer Miller. “You got everything you need?”
Samantha looked over at Officer Miller, confident that he would step up and be of more assistance than his defiant partner. But when he avoided her gaze and nodded his head at his partner, her expectations quickly faded.
“Yeah, I think I’ve got enough,” Officer Miller replied, closing his notepad and sliding it inside his back pocket. “Miss Vincent, I’m really sorry that this happened to you. I’ll be sure to—”
“All right, then,” Officer Baxter interrupted, practically pushing his partner toward the door. “Let’s get outta here.”
“So wait, that’s it?” Samantha asked, watching in complete shock as the officers stepped out onto the porch. “You’re not going to thoroughly process the crime scene, take photos, nothing?”
“Like we said, we’ve got everything we need,” Officer Baxter told her. When Officer Miller opened his mouth to speak, Baxter quickly continued. “We’ll file the report down at the station and follow up with you if we have any questions.”
And with that, the policemen bounced down the stairs and headed to their patrol car.
Samantha slammed the door behind them. Her chest heaved in anger. She eyed the busted windows and fought off tears while storming down into the basement to search for sheets of plywood.
On the way there, she called Detective Harris. At this point she didn’t care what time it was. She was disgusted by the way Officer Baxter had treated her and floored after they’d both neglected the crime scene. But more importantly, she couldn’t cope with the trauma of what she’d just experienced alone.
“Hello?” the detective said after answering on the first ring. Samantha was surprised to hear that he sounded wide-awake.
“Detective Har—I mean, Gregory?”
“Yeah, hey. How ironic that you’d be calling me at this ungodly hour. I was actually just thinking about you.”
“Were you?” Samantha asked, momentarily forgetting all about her home being vandalized. “What were you thinking about?”
“I just finished reading your latest blog post about Jacob. This is great stuff, Sam. I mean, you did go in on Collin pretty hard, but you presented some solid evidence that backs up your claims. And I love the way you concluded the post. ‘Come on, people,’” he read. “‘Do the right thing. Come forward. Speak up. Be heard. Help bring justice to Jacob Jennings and his family. Because
as we all know, someone knows something...’ That’s really awesome, the way you worded that ending.”
“Thanks, Gregory. Unfortunately, the post really struck a nerve with a certain someone here in Gattenburg.”
“What, did you receive some negative feedback on it?”
“Worse. My house was just vandalized.”
“Wait, what?” the detective shouted so loudly that Samantha had to pull the phone away from her ear.
“Somebody just drove by my house and threw bricks and bottles through my living room windows. They’re all busted out, my lamps and vases are shattered, there’s glass everywhere...it’s a mess.”
She could hear the detective rummaging around as he breathed heavily into the phone.
“I’m getting dressed now,” he huffed. “I’ll be there shortly. Did you call the police?”
“I did. They’ve already been out here, and one of them in particular was absolutely terrible.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Well, one of the officers tried to sympathize with me, but the other guy was so abrupt and rude,” she insisted, waving her arm in the air. “And they didn’t even process the crime scene. When they asked who I thought may have done this, I of course told them Collin. After that? The alpha officer grabbed the beta officer and practically ran out the door. But not before telling me he doesn’t think Collin had anything to do with Jacob’s death, and that I need to stop with the accusatory blog posts.”
“Well, without processing the scene, how would he even know whether it was Collin or not?”
“My point exactly! He tried to convince me that it could’ve been some high school kids. I honestly think he was saying anything just to take the attention away from Collin. But you already know I’m not going for that. It’s no coincidence this happened right after I posted that update on Jacob’s murder.”
“I think you’re right. Did you happen to get the police officers’ names?”
“I sure did.”
“Good. I’ll see to it that the situation is dealt with. But in the meantime, I wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m so sorry this happened to you, Samantha. I wish you’d called me sooner.”
Just hearing those words of support caused her anger level to go down several notches. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Listen. First off, I barely ever sleep. Secondly, I don’t care what time of day or night it is. If you need me, call me.”
“Thank you, Gregory. I will.”
“Do you have the supplies I’ll need to board up your windows? Or should I stop by the store and pick up some plywood?”
Marry me, Samantha wanted to blurt out. But instead she checked her basement closet and saw that she had several plywood panels left over from last year’s flooring project.
“I do have the supplies here. And Gregory? Thank you so much for this. I really—”
“No need to thank me,” he interrupted. “I’m glad to help. You’re doing great work for the community of Gattenburg while trying to get justice for your friend. I really admire that. This is the least I can do.”
“Well, just know that you’re greatly appreciated,” she said right before hearing his car door slam. “Are you already on your way here?”
“I am. I should be there in about ten minutes.”
Samantha exhaled with relief. “Great. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”
“That sounds good. And by the way, make sure you don’t disturb the crime scene. You should contact your insurance company first thing in the morning and file a claim, too.”
“Oh yeah. Thanks for reminding me of that. And I’ll be sure to leave the scene as is.”
“See you soon.” As Samantha climbed the stairs and headed into the kitchen, she felt the heaviness of the attack lift a bit. Gregory’s reassurance had given her a deep sense of protection, even in the midst of clear and present danger.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gregory parked his car in front of Samantha’s house. He grabbed his brown leather messenger bag, hopped out and ran to the front door. On the way there, he checked the lawn and pathway for footprints and assessed the damage that had been done to her windows.
“Wow,” he breathed, shocked by the extent of the destruction.
His chest ached at the sight of huge holes in the windows and shattered, jagged glass surrounding them. It was obvious that the act of violence had been committed by someone with malice in his heart who had something to hide as well as something to lose if he were to be found out.
The attack was a warning shot that rang out loud and clear. And for Gregory, it sent a message that there was more, and probably worse, where this came from.
Just when he reached out to ring the bell, Samantha flung open the door. He’d expected her to have a distressed, just-rolled-out-of-bed look going on. But instead, Samantha was dressed in gray yoga pants and a matching tank. Her hair was pulled up into a messy, sexy bun, and her skin had a freshly washed glow.
“Hey,” he said, unable to wipe the slight grin off his face. He knew a subdued greeting would be more appropriate considering what she’d just been through. But the sight of Samantha made it impossible to appear somber.
“Hi,” she replied softly, stepping to the side as he walked through the door. “I know you said no more thank-yous. But I’m my own woman and you can’t tell me what to do. So, with that being said, thank you again for coming over. You really have no idea how much this means to me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to be here and happy to help.”
Gregory walked farther into the living room and assessed the damage. “This is unreal,” he said, looking around the room in complete awe.
“It really is. But I’m more concerned about my safety than any of this damage that was done.”
“Of course. So am I.” Gregory walked over toward the couch. “You haven’t touched any of the bricks or bottles that were thrown through the windows, have you?”
“I haven’t. But Officer Baxter picked a brick up off the floor and just cavalierly tossed it onto the couch. Without gloves, might I add.”
“Huh? Why would he do that?”
“I have no idea. My guess is that he just wanted to be an ass.”
“Yeah, I’ve observed quite a bit of his frat boy behavior around the station. So hearing that doesn’t surprise me.” Gregory stepped carefully over the piles of glass that Samantha had swept up and approached the windows. “So who came out with Officer Baxter?”
“Officer Miller. He’s the one who recorded my statement. He tried to be decent, but Officer Baxter completely overpowered him.”
“Oh yeah. Miller seems to be a pretty decent policeman. But he hasn’t been on the force for long, and I think he’s easily intimidated by officers with more seniority. And as for Baxter, he’s already skating on thin ice for giving out bogus parking tickets around town in order to meet his quota.”
“Figures. I just hope Baxter is reprimanded after the way he treated me. And they both need to be dealt with over the mishandling of this crime scene.”
Detective Harris reached inside his bag and pulled out a pair of gloves, along with several evidence bags. “Don’t even worry yourself with that. I’ll be sure to make that happen. In the meantime, I’ll process everything here thoroughly, and take these bricks and bottles in for DNA testing.”
“You are such a lifesaver. If I weren’t so sweaty, I’d come over there and hug you.”
Gregory stopped midmotion while bending down to pick up a bottle as the thought of Samantha wrapping her arms around him crossed his mind.
Focus on the crime scene, he told himself, forcing his eyes to divert from her curvy, svelte frame, which was perfectly outlined in her skintight spandex outfit.
“So how do you like your coffee?” Samantha asked.
“Black.”
“I figured as much. You’re too tough to have it any other way.”
“Don’t be fooled by my hard demeanor,” he joked. “Underneath it all I’m just a soft teddy bear. How do you take your coffee?”
“With a dash of oat milk and a touch of raw sugar.”
“Child’s play. That’s how I drank it back in the day when I was a kid. My mother would indulge me every Saturday morning. But we weren’t all bougie and gourmet like you. We used whole milk and white sugar.”
Samantha threw her head back and laughed. “Please. I am far from bougie. I’m just trying to keep it healthy.”
Gregory eyed her figure a little more lustfully than he’d intended. “Yeah, I can see that...”
She quickly turned away and swept a pile of shattered glass into a dustpan.
You’re doing too much, the detective thought, wishing he had kept that last comment to himself. He turned away from her and picked a brick up off the floor.
“Once I collect all this evidence, I’ll start boarding up the windows,” he said in an attempt to deflect from his provocative remark.
He glanced over at Samantha, anxious to hear her response. When she flashed him a soft smile, his head bowed with relief.
“That sounds good,” she said. “Thank you. And while you do that, I’ll go grab the coffee.”
“Can I give you a hand?”
“No, no. I’ve got it. I’ll be right back.”
Gregory felt hypnotized by the sight of Samantha’s swaying hips as she sauntered into the kitchen. Her open floor plan allowed him to watch as she pulled mugs down from a shelf and placed them on the counter.
“So since those two officers decided that taking photos of all this damage wasn’t important,” she called out, “I made sure to take plenty of pictures before I started cleaning up.”
“Oh good. Smart thinking. I took some, too, but make sure you email yours to me.” Gregory picked up the rest of the bricks and placed them in evidence bags. “By the way, I ran those names of the missing Westman’s employees through the system. It took some digging because, strangely, none of their names were spelled correctly. But I was able to access their police reports.”
Harlequin Intrigue July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 43