“I’ve actually reached out to Kenzie a few times since our initial meeting and haven’t heard back from her. Ava hasn’t, either.”
“Really? Do you think she got scared off after I showed up at Barron’s and decided not to discuss the case with you anymore?” He hoped that was the reason, and Kenzie’s silence wasn’t due to something sinister.
“She could have.” Samantha shrugged. “I’ll give it one more try before I give up.”
“Good. Now promise me you won’t give any more thought to that ridiculous idea of breaking into Collin’s house.”
Samantha twisted her lips and pushed away from the table. “We’ll see...”
As she raised her arms over her head in a sensual stretch, Gregory found himself unable to take his eyes off her. From her long, slender neck to the outline of her curves, she completely mesmerized him.
“I am exhausted,” she continued. “It has been a long, crazy day.”
Gregory stood up and took their plates. “Yes, it has. I was thinking about brewing a pot of that Hannah’s coffee you were kind enough to get for me. Would you like a cup?”
“I’d love one. Thank you.”
He carried their dishes into the kitchen while Samantha followed him with the empty wine bottle and glasses.
“Now, I don’t have oat milk and raw sugar,” Gregory told her. “But I do have soy milk and stevia. Will that work for you?”
“Aww, how sweet. You remembered how I like my coffee. Yes, that’ll definitely work for me.”
Samantha approached him from behind and set their glasses on the counter. As he filled the coffeepot with water, her bosom lightly brushed against his back, causing a series of tremors to creep up his spine. He lost his focus momentarily, catching himself when the carafe began to overflow. He quickly poured out some of the water, filled the reservoir and set the machine to brew.
“So, Detective Harris, when are you going to tell me the real reason why you left Chicago?”
“Whoa,” he uttered, completely caught off guard. “Where’d that come from?”
“Well, I’ve been curious about it ever since you arrived in Gattenburg. But I didn’t want to pry. Until now, of course.”
“Now that I’ve taken down my guard, huh,” he chuckled.
“Exactly.”
Gregory stalled for time by turning away from Samantha and taking two coffee mugs down off the shelf. He hadn’t discussed his reasons for leaving the Chicago PD with many people and certainly hadn’t expected to do so tonight.
“Where do you keep your detergent?” Samantha asked as she began loading the dishwasher. Her tone was soft, as if she may have known that she’d hit a nerve.
When Gregory pulled the pods from underneath the sink and handed them to her, he noticed a compassionate glint in her eyes. It immediately put him at ease.
“So, Chi-town,” he said. “Where do I even begin?”
“How about at the beginning?” she rebutted.
“Cute,” he snarked, focusing on the coffeepot as the trickling water brewed.
He was suddenly hit by a jolt of nervous energy. Gregory hoped that Samantha wouldn’t think differently of him after finding out why he’d left the CPD behind.
“Would you mind grabbing the soy milk out of the fridge?” he asked in an attempt to stall for time.
“Sure.”
He pulled the box of stevia from the cabinet just as the coffeepot pinged. After preparing their drinks, he handed Samantha her cup.
“Why don’t we go hang out on the couch?” Gregory suggested. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said, leading the way into the living room.
The detective struggled to stare straight ahead rather than down toward her backside as it swayed in front of him.
The pair took a seat, and Gregory couldn’t help but stare as Samantha puckered her lips and blew into her mug.
“Mmm, this is really good,” she said after taking a sip. “I can’t really even tell the difference between yours and mine.”
“So my substitutions are on point?”
“They sure are.”
“Good to know.”
“Can we be done with all the small talk now? Stop stalling and spill the tea on why you left Chicago.”
Gregory stared down at his wringing hands apprehensively. “Before I get into all that, you have to promise me that this conversation will stay between us. Deal?”
“Deal. I would never betray your trust. Please know that.”
Hearing those words warmed the detective’s heart, making him feel as though they were developing a bond. He slid toward the edge of the couch and turned toward Samantha.
“Just so you know, this situation brings back some pretty painful memories. So bear with me if I seem a little somber.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Hey, you don’t have to do this. If you don’t wanna talk about it, we can change the subject. The last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable, or—”
“No, no,” he interrupted, tightening his grip on her hand. “This is good for me. I need to talk about it. Maybe once I do, I’ll get rid of the last remnants of pain I can’t seem to shake.”
“Okay,” Samantha whispered.
“So,” he began, “I was working on a case involving a married couple who’d recently filed for divorce. Right after they submitted the papers, the wife discovered that her soon-to-be ex-husband had put a hit out on her.”
“What? That is terrible.”
“Yeah, she was devastated. Once we got the husband in custody, I was assigned to keep watch over the wife while we worked to identify the hit man. The husband swore he had no clue as to what was going on. But the recorded phone conversations his wife turned over to us told a different story.”
“Wait, so she actually heard her husband making arrangements with someone to have her killed?”
“Yep. She’d had her suspicions, so she secretly installed a spyware smart-card device inside his cell phone. We all heard the man plotting her demise.”
“Wow. So did you all ever find the hit man?”
“We did. But before I get into that, let me tell you this. During the time that I was protecting the wife, she and I got pretty close. We were spending a lot of time together and developed what I thought was a genuine friendship.”
“Uh-oh,” Samantha interjected, covering her eyes with her hand. “Please don’t tell me you had an affair with this woman.”
“No, no...nothing like that. We were just friends. Or so I thought. Long story short, during the investigation, I discovered that the woman’s husband was a bookie. He and his business partner had been running an illegal sports betting business for years, and they’d made a killing. The business partner and the wife started having an affair, and they framed the husband. He’d never actually put a hit out on her.”
“Okay, so wait,” Samantha said, rubbing her temples while falling against the back of the couch. “If the husband didn’t arrange to have her murdered, then what about the phone recordings?”
“They were fake. They’d been spliced together and doctored up by a professional who took certain words that the husband actually did say, then edited them together so that they’d blend into a stream of manipulated sentences.”
“Oh my word...” Samantha uttered while fanning her face. “That is unbelievable. I mean, it sounds like something straight out of a movie!”
Gregory paused, taking a long sip of coffee in hopes that it would wash down the stinging in the back of his throat. Reliving the experience was more painful than he’d expected.
“So let me get this straight,” Samantha said. “The wife was having an affair with the business partner, all while her innocent soon-to-be ex-husband sat in jail, who she led you to believe was trying to have her killed?”
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“You got it. She was just using me in hopes that our friendship would cloud my judgment and block me from conducting a proper investigation. Obviously, she didn’t know me as well as she thought she did. There’s no way I wouldn’t have brought in a forensic audio analyst to review those recordings.”
Samantha threw the detective a knowing look. “She should’ve known the minute you two met that you’re not the type to let anything slide.”
“You would think. I’m just glad that I was able to get the business partner to confess once he found out we’d made that discovery. The wife, however, continued to deny her involvement.”
“Of course she did. Man, Gregory! That was quite a salacious story.”
Gregory ran his sweaty palms down the front of his jeans. “Believe it or not, you still haven’t heard the worst of it.”
“Come on now. I refuse to believe this story can get any worse.”
“Oh, but it can. When I reported my findings to the police chief, he just blew it off and told me to leave the case alone, then took me off it completely.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he and several members of the Chicago PD were being paid off by the business partner. They’d gambled with him, taken bribes from him...plus, he allegedly had ties to the mob. The chief thought that if we pursued the case any further, we’d cause too much chaos throughout the city. So he swept everything under the rug as if it never happened. That’s why you didn’t see anything about it in the news.”
“I’m starting to think you’re making all this up. Because it’s just too insane to be true.”
“Like they say, the truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.” Gregory stood up and stretched his legs. “And in closing, that’s why I left Chicago.”
Samantha held her hand to her head. “My mind is spinning from all this. So what ended up happening to the husband, wife and business partner?”
“The husband was released from police custody after we deemed the tapes inauthentic. We never shared our findings with him, and he didn’t ask any questions. He was just glad to be out. I figured he’d try and get to the bottom of things on his own. The business partner received six months probation, which was a complete joke. And no charges were ever brought against the wife.”
“So was the wife able to collect anything in the divorce?”
“What divorce? The wife ended up dumping the business partner after finding out he’d confessed, then reconciled with her husband.”
Samantha jumped up from the couch and once again paced the floor. “Detective Gregory Harris. I refuse to believe that man took his wife back.”
“I promise you he did. Not only that, but the husband and business partner are still running their gambling operation together to this day!”
“Damn. Well, I certainly can’t blame you for leaving Chicago behind.” Samantha gazed up at him, her eyes softening sympathetically. “Now I understand why you were so hesitant to get involved in Jacob’s case with me. But I can assure you that my intentions are pure, and—”
“Samantha, please,” he interrupted. “You don’t even have to go there with me. I know you just want justice for Jacob and his family. And while it did take me a minute to come around after everything I’ve been through, once I realized who you are, I knew I had to help you.”
She reached over and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here in Gattenburg now. This town needs you. I need you.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Gregory took a step closer to her. The pair studied one another, as if waiting to see what the other would do next.
Just as the detective leaned in toward her, Samantha dropped her head and turned to the couch.
“I’m exhausted,” she said, grabbing the throw blanket and folding it neatly. “I’d better get to bed. I really appreciate you letting me stay here tonight.”
Gregory felt a thud of disappointment drop in his chest. “Of course. I’ve already got everything set up in the guest bedroom and bathroom for you. If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“I will. Thanks.”
As Samantha sauntered off toward the bedroom, the detective eyed her longingly. He wondered how in the hell he would get through the night, knowing she was sleeping in the room right next to his.
CHAPTER NINE
Samantha pulled out her cell phone and checked it one more time. She was shocked to see a missed call from Kenzie.
“Dammit!” she shrieked after realizing her ringer had been turned off.
When a car horn blasted behind her, Samantha jumped and looked up at the light that had just turned green. She glanced in her rearview mirror. An old man was pointing his finger at her, his wrinkled face snarled in disdain. She waved at him apologetically and hit the accelerator, then pulled over and quickly dialed Kenzie back.
“Hello?” Kenzie breathed into the phone.
“Hey! It’s Samantha. I’m so sorry I missed your call. Ava and I have been worried sick about you. Why’d you disappear on us?”
“I—I’m not going to be able to discuss Jacob’s case with you anymore.”
Samantha felt a twinge of disappointment tighten inside her chest. “Really? Why not? What’s going on?”
“Listen, I can’t talk for long,” Kenzie whispered nervously. “Alex is in the other room. But I’m hearing rumors that Collin is in the drug business and Jacob was somehow tangled up in it.”
Samantha closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. “Oh no,” she moaned. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t have any solid proof, but that’s been the buzz around Westman’s. And with Jacob turning up dead and those other guys going missing, this is all getting too dangerous for me, Sam. I really wanna help you and Ava, but... I’m sorry. This is gonna have to be our last conversation.”
“But wait, can’t you just—”
Before Samantha could finish, Kenzie disconnected the call.
Samantha pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. A streak of fiery anger shot through her. She tore away from the curb and sped down the street.
“What in the hell are you doing?” she asked herself. But as she turned down Everhart Avenue and eyed Westman’s Automotive Factory, Samantha knew exactly what she was planning to do. Now it was just a matter of whether or not she would actually go through with it.
Gregory is gonna be livid, she thought while slowly creeping down the street.
She stopped the car right before she reached the factory’s parking lot and scanned the rows of vehicles. There, in front of the Reserved for General Manager sign, was Collin’s obnoxious silver pickup truck. Its enormous wheels and bright red flames lining the doors could be spotted from a mile away.
“So he’s here,” Samantha muttered. “Good.”
She hit the accelerator and sped down the street. Guilt stabbed the pit of her stomach as she thought back on the conversation she’d had with Gregory that morning.
Right before he left for work, the detective made her promise that she would go straight to Hannah’s Coffee Shop and hang out there until he could get a patrol car to watch over her house.
Well, at least I’m not going home, Samantha thought to herself.
The fact that she was heading to Collin’s house was an even more dangerous idea. But now that Kenzie was no longer willing to assist in the investigation of Jacob’s death, Samantha had to find another way to get answers.
Her heart pounded uncontrollably as she made a left turn down Canyon Avenue and drove toward Birchway Hills.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said aloud. “You do not have to do this...”
But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Samantha knew she was going to follow through with her plan.
She’d tossed and turned al
l night at Gregory’s house. Between the intimate dinner they’d shared, the details he’d divulged on why he had left Chicago and the fiery attraction she felt toward him, Samantha had barely gotten any sleep. But in spite of all that, she was now wide-awake and completely wired.
Since she’d begun covering Jacob’s case, Samantha had tried to play by the rules. She’d hoped that her investigative blog posts would generate clues rather than the threats she had been getting. But at this point she’d had it. Being run out of her own home was the last straw. She refused to sit back and wait for Collin to execute another attack. Samantha was ready to take action and start fighting fire with fire.
She made a right turn down Sixteenth Street. An intense wave of heat stung her skin when Collin’s block appeared up ahead.
Samantha rolled down the window and inhaled deeply, allowing the chilly air to calm her frazzled nerves. Despite the words of doubt flying through her head, she knew that she’d come too far to turn back now.
She made a sharp left onto Birchway Avenue and let up on the accelerator. Her breathing quickened when Collin’s three-story brick townhome came into view.
Samantha suddenly felt herself beginning to panic. Her muscles tensed up as she pressed down on the brake. She swiveled her head from side to side, searching the street for neighbors or passersby.
No one was around.
Stay calm. You can do this...
But in that moment, Samantha couldn’t do it. She floored the gas pedal and sped down the street, flying past Collin’s house and exiting Birchway Hills.
As she slammed on her brakes at a stop sign, the memory of her shattered living room windows flashed through her mind. Thoughts of bricks and glass bottles lying in the midst of her broken lamps and vases came rushing back.
Samantha thought about the threatening messages left on her blog, the man in the van pointing a gun at her and the devastating sight of her damaged garage door. That, along with Jacob’s unsolved murder, his family’s grief and the missing Westman’s workers, was all it took for her to make an abrupt U-turn.
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