The Sam Prichard Series - Books 9-12 (Sam Prichard Boxed Set 3)

by David Archer

  Sam hobbled quickly over to the fence and looked the man in the eye. “Is there any way to stop the explosion? My name is Sam Prichard, I’m a private investigator, and I’ve just found the bodies of three murder victims in there.”

  The man’s eyes looked like they were going to explode, and he grabbed a walkie-talkie out of his pocket. “George? George, we have to abort! Kill the countdown and get in there and disconnect everything, and send one of those cops over here to me right now!”

  Suddenly there was a flurry of activity, as a couple of men ran into the sub basements of the building, and two police officers hurried over to where Sam was standing with the demolition man. Sam explained quickly what was going on, and one of the officers started issuing orders.

  Within ten minutes, six more squad cars converged on the place, and a few minutes later there arrived a pickup truck bearing the markings of the Medical Examiner.

  Another man from the demolition company came over to them as well, holding what looked like a laptop and tapping on the keyboard.

  “I deactivated the timers, it’s okay,” he said. “Our guys have gone in and completely disconnected everything, so it’s all safe now.”

  Sam leaned against the fence and breathed a sigh of relief. “Any chance you can shut down whatever it is that keeps cell phones from working? I need to make a couple of calls in a hurry.”

  “Already did,” said the man with the computer. “That was one of the first things the cops asked for.”

  Sam thanked him, and hobbled a little more slowly back to where Tracy was sitting on the tailgate. He took out his phone and tapped Heather’s number, then just handed it over. Tracy held it to her ear, and tears suddenly began streaming down her face when she heard her daughter’s voice.

  The construction company officials were informed that their building was considered a crime scene, and they didn’t argue. One of them even thanked Sam for getting Tracy out and calling police. Had she died in the explosion, they would have been exposed to lawsuits that could have cost them millions.

  Tracy reached out and tapped Sam on the shoulder, then handed him his phone. “Thank you,” she croaked. He knew it was going to be a while before her voice would sound normal, but the police had said there was an ambulance on the way to take her to the hospital to be checked out. Heather and her stepfather would meet up with her there.

  Sam looked at the phone in his hand and called Indie. He wasn’t surprised when she answered on the second ring, but he could hear the residue of sleep in her voice.

  “Sam? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Babe,” he said. “Tell your mom’s spooky old friend that we did it. I found Tracy, and I also found the bodies of those poor kids.”

  Indie hesitated for a moment. “And Tracy—is she okay?”

  “She’s stiff and sore, and she’s been trapped in what amounted to a grave for several days. She will survive, but I’m sure it’s been pretty rough on her.”

  “You sound pretty worried about her,” Indie said. “Anything I should be concerned about?”

  Sam’s eyebrows shot up and tried to climb over his forehead. “About Tracy? Baby, that was over long before I ever met you,” he said.

  “Yeah, but sometimes an old flame can flare up when you least expect it.”

  Sam shook his head, but he was grinning. “Indie, I’ll let you in on a secret. If things had ever worked out between me and Tracy, I probably would’ve been reasonably happy, but it was destined to come to an end anyway.”

  “Oh? What makes you say that?”

  Sam smiled into the phone. “Because sooner or later I would have run into you,” he said. “I’m absolutely certain that God wanted us together, babe, so He would’ve made sure I was available when that happened.”

  “Awww,” Indie said, “that’s so sweet. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Sam said, “and we’ll discuss that in more detail when I get home in a little while.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Absolutely,” Sam said. “Just let me finish up here, and I’ll be on the way.”

  Sam put the phone back in his pocket as the paramedics arrived and loaded Tracy into the back of their ambulance, then went in search of whoever was going to be handling the crime scene. One of the police officers pointed him toward a man in a suit, but another car came roaring in before Sam got to him. Karen Parks jumped out, her hair looking un-brushed and with no makeup on, which told Sam she’d been sleeping soundly when she got the call.

  “Sam Prichard,” she yelled as she stomped toward him, “what in the world have you done now?”

  “Not a lot,” Sam said. “Found the missing woman, located the missing bodies of our teenage murder victims, saved the day—you know, the usual.” He couldn’t help grinning at her, and the scowl on her face slowly faded as a grin of her own appeared.

  “They called me out because of joint jurisdiction,” she said. “Since the original murders and abduction happened in Denver, but the bodies and victim were found here, I’ve got to work with Lakewood detectives on this. We’re going to need statements from you, but we can do that later. I gather you been up all night?”

  Sam nodded. “Yes, and it’s been a long one. You know how to reach me, so I’m going home and going to bed.”

  Karen shook her head, still grinning. “Go for it,” she said. “I promise not to call until at least after lunchtime.”

  Sam nodded, climbed into the pickup truck and drove away.

  22

  Two days had passed since he had dragged Tracy out of that pit, but Sam didn’t think he was ever going to get the smell of decomposition out of his sinuses. That thought rolled sleepily through his mind as he lay in bed, once again trying to catch the opportunity to sleep in.

  There was, he thought, some sort of conspiracy that was designed to make sure he didn’t get the chance. That conspiracy was evidenced on this particular morning by the ringing of the house phone. He started to roll out of bed to go and answer it, but the thunder of tiny, running feet rolled down the stairs and Kenzie beat him to it. Sam slid his feet into his slippers and listened as she answered the phone.

  “Hello,” she said. “Yeah, but he’s asleep. Who? Just a minute, I’ll go see if he’ll wake up.” The receiver thumped as she dropped it onto the table, and Sam caught her up into a hug as he stepped out of his bedroom.

  “Daddy! There’s a man on the phone who wants to talk to you, his name is—I can’t remember.”

  Sam chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll see who it is.” He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. “Sam Prichard.”

  “Sam? It’s Travis Bittner.”

  Sam’s eyebrows shot up. Travis Bittner was a Grammy-winning country singer, and Sam and his band had recently opened for one of his concerts in Denver. It’d been a wonderful experience, and Bittner had even sung a duet with Sam on one of the songs he had written.

  “Yes, sir,” Sam said. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, there’s actually a couple of things I want to talk to you about,” Bittner said. “First, I want to record a couple of your songs, so I was wondering if you’re available to come to Nashville for a couple of weeks.”

  “Seriously? Man, that would be fantastic. When would I have to come?”

  “We’ll be in the studio all the rest of this month, and I’d like to work on your songs next week if possible. Could you make it by then?”

  Sam felt a hand on his back and turned to see Indie looking up at him, curious. He winked at her and said, “Sure, that’s no problem. We could use a bit of a vacation, anyway.”

  Bittner chuckled. “Well, it’ll be a working vacation, but I think I can show you and the family a good time while you’re here. But that brings up the other thing I need to talk to you about, so you might want to sit down.”

  “Sit down? Well, okay…” Sam sat down on a chair beside the kitchen table, and Indie sat beside him. Little Kenzie,
who was watching both of her parents, climbed into her mother’s lap. “Okay, I’m sitting. What’s up?”

  Bittner took a deep breath. “Sam, I want to steal your band.”

  Sam blinked. “Steal my band? What, all of them?”

  “Yeah, if I can get away with it. Listen, Sam, you are a very good singer, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. If I’m going to be truthful, however, you’re not quite an incredible singer, and that’s what it takes to really make it in country music today. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or insult you, I’m just trying to be completely honest.”

  “You’re not hurting my feelings,” Sam said. “To be completely honest, you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. But what’s this got to do with the band?”

  “It’s got to do with the fact that I have stumbled across an incredible singer, a young woman with a unique voice and more talent in her pinky than I got in my whole body. The only thing she needs is an incredible band, and I believe she can make it to the top. I’ve given this a lot of thought, Sam, and I think your band is exactly what she needs to have a shot at making it all the way.”

  Sam shook his head in surprise. “They’re definitely good,” he said. “Have you talked to Chris or any of them about this yet?”

  “Of course not, Sam,” Bittner said. “They’re your band, I wouldn’t go to them behind your back. If you’re not willing to let them go, they’ll never even know I asked.”

  Indie was sitting close enough to be able to hear both sides of the conversation, and her eyes were locked onto Sam’s own. He winked at her, and she broke into a smile. “Travis, I like being a country singer,” he said, “but I know I’m not any kind of superstar. The band, on the other hand, those guys are great. Chris has had a shot at stardom before that he missed out on, partly because he didn’t want to leave the others. If you are telling me you want the whole band, then I’m all for it. They deserve this kind of break.”

  Bittner laughed. “Sam, I was pretty sure that’s how you feel,” he said, “and that’s why I’m calling you from the Denver airport. I flew in this morning on a ridiculously early flight. Think maybe you could get the band together today, so we can all sit down and discuss it?”

  “I’d be delighted. How about I come on out to the airport and pick you up now, and you can hang out with me in the family until they all drag their lazy butts out of bed? I don’t think any of them gets up before eleven, but we can probably get them all over here for lunch and spring it on them then.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Bittner said. “Don’t come get me, though, I can take a taxi to your place. Want me to pick anything up on the way?”

  Indie pantomimed cooking, so Sam grinned. “Nope. But bring your appetite, Indie is in the mood to cook a big breakfast.”

  “Oh, now that sounds good. I’ll be there in thirty minutes!”

  Indie hurried back to the bedroom and got dressed, then went to the kitchen and set the oven for biscuits while Sam shaved and dressed. By the time Bittner arrived, he was treated to biscuits with sausage gravy, scrambled eggs and bacon, and he shortly proclaimed it the best breakfast he’d had in years.

  Bittner had brought a guitar, and it wasn’t long before he and Sam were jamming in the living room. “Hey, Sam,” Bittner said, “I’ve got this song I’ve been working on, but I’m stuck. Maybe you can help me finish it off.”

  He played and sang a verse, then the two of them talked about where the song was going, and Sam suggested a new approach on the chorus.

  “Sam, I think that might be exactly what it needs. Sing it once, let’s see how it goes.”

  Sam strummed his guitar for a moment, finding the melody, then began to sing. (Click Here To Listen)

  “Wasn' that long ago that we made love,

  Lying ‘neath an open sky with just the stars above,

  A blanket for a pillow and a sad song playing on the radio,

  Wasn' that long ago that we said I do,

  I couldn't believe that my own dreams were coming true,

  Now you say you’re leavin' and you need a little time,

  Is there nothing I can say to keep you by my side?

  But wait! I know you heard that sound,

  Like a southbound freight train, it shakes the ground,

  Did you hear the earthquake, and tell me,

  How could you tell with all the noise you were makin'?

  Did it open up your ears and spin your head around?

  Did you ever wonder how the sound of silence can feel like thunder?

  Tell me, are you hurtin' now?

  Come on, baby, tell me what you’re thinking,

  Now that you've heard the sound

  Of my heart breaking

  I asked God for an angel with broken wings,

  So I could take care of her and mend a few things,

  Now that you're strong enough I guess that I can let you fly,

  Just listen closely one more time ‘fore you say goodbye,

  Did you hear the earthquake, and tell me,

  How could you tell with all the noise you were makin'?

  Did it open up your ears and spin your head around?

  Did you ever wonder how the sound of silence can feel like thunder?

  Tell me, are you hurtin' now?

  Come on, baby, tell me what you’re thinking,

  Now that you've heard the sound

  Of my heart breaking

  Of my heart breaking”

  Indie and Kenzie both burst into applause, and Bittner’s smile couldn’t have been wider. “You did it, Sam,” he said. “That twist was exactly what it needed.” He turned and looked at Indie. “You’re not going to get mad if I show up on your doorstep now and then, are you? Every once in a while, I get stuck on a song that I know has potential, and Sam seems to know how to make them work.”

  “You’ll always be welcome here,” she said with a smile of her own.

  They continued playing and singing through the morning, and then Sam called Chris Lancaster, Stan Bennet and Janice Peet and invited them over for what he called a very special lunch. Candy McAlester, the bass player, lived with Chris and would be arriving with him.

  They all arrived shortly after noon, and found Sam on the back deck with burgers on the grill. They were all surprised to see Travis Bittner sitting there, but Sam brushed it off by saying Bittner had showed up begging for help in finishing off a song he was trying to write, and Bittner played along with the gag.

  It wasn’t until they had finished eating and were sitting around the picnic table sipping root beers that Sam called them to attention.

  “Okay, guys,” he began, “this isn’t just a lunchtime get together. Travis flew in this morning because he got something important he wants to talk to you all about, and I thought getting you all together here was the best way to handle it.” He turned to Bittner. “I think you ought to take it from there, don’t you?”

  Bittner put a smile on his face as he looked at the band. “I came to Sam first,” he said, “because he’s your front man. We talked this morning, and he’s okay with what I’m about to propose, but it’s something you each need to think about.” He took a deep breath before he went on. “Country music is a big business, and it’s not always easy to make it. I told Sam this morning that he’s a very good singer, but he’s not an incredible singer, and that’s why I don’t think he would find terrific success in Nashville.”

  Chris opened his mouth to speak, but Sam held out a hand. “Hold on,” he said. “Just hear the rest of what he’s got to say.”

  “Thanks, Sam. Look, guys, and girls, I’ve discovered a new singer. She’s got the talent, she’s got the looks, and now she needs the music behind her, and for the style she’s developed, I can’t find a better band than you guys. Like I said, I’ve already talked this over with Sam and he’s okay with it. If you’re all interested, and I do mean all of you, I’m ready to sign you to contract today. You will be the new girl’s band, y
ou’ll spend the next couple of months in rehearsals and studio cutting an album, and then you’ll be on tour for eight months after that. You will start out with her as my opening act, but by next year she’ll be out on her own with you guys, and you’ll all be topping the charts.”

  It took a full minute before anyone was able to speak, and then they all tried to talk at once. There were some initial protests about leaving Sam, but Sam shut those down quickly. “Look, guys,” he said, “I’ve had a lot of fun singing with you, but Travis is right. You guys are great, you’re a great band, and you need a great singer out front. That just isn’t me, and we all know it.”

  “But, Sam,” Chris began, but Sam cut him off.

  “Chris, stop. Being a singer was just a hobby for me, but music is what you guys are all about. Me? I’m a private eye, that’s what I am. But you guys, you are professional musicians. Some of the best I’ve ever heard, by the way, and I’m glad that someone like Travis Bittner agrees with me on that.”

  There were a few more feeble protests, but it was pretty much a done deal at that point. Bittner looked at Sam and smiled, and the conversation turned to negotiating points in the contracts. Sam leaned back in his chair and sipped his root beer, and his wife pulled her own chair over close enough to lean her head on his shoulder.

  “So,” she whispered, “you really ready to give up the music business?”

  “Yeah, I think I am. It’s been fun, but it really isn’t me. Besides, all the applause in the world can’t compare to the thrills I’ve gotten when I’ve solved a case, maybe saved a life.” He turned and looked at her. “What about you? Are you okay with this decision?”

  “Oh, yes,” Indie said. “It was a lot of fun at first, but some of those late nights really got to me.” She looked at their friends, the members of what was likely to be the hottest new band in Nashville. “Besides,” she went on, “we can always say we knew them when, right?”