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Cold Case True Crime

Page 2

by Denise N Wheatley


  “You certainly have my sympathies, Samantha. But when it comes to Jacob’s case, I’d be remiss if I didn’t advise you to use caution.”

  “Why?”

  The detective hesitated, struggling to choose his words wisely. “I’ll put it this way. Chief Wentworth and Gattenburg’s judicial powers that be have a very...amiable relationship. They make special efforts to look out for one another. And while I now know that the investigation into Jacob’s death concluded somewhat hastily—”

  “Somewhat,” Samantha interjected.

  “—it could in fact be because Collin is Chief Wentworth’s son,” Gregory continued, purposely ignoring her sarcasm. “And I’m not saying that Collin was involved, because that I don’t know. I’m just going off what you’re telling me. But what I do know is that Chief Wentworth is a trusted leader in this community. As far as the higher-ups are concerned, he can do no wrong. And while I do respect the chief, I’ll admit he can be one relentless son of a bitch.”

  Samantha backed away from him. “I’m not afraid of the chief! He may have a hold on this town, and he’s clearly got all of you under his spell. But he’s got nothing on me.”

  “I’m not saying you should be afraid,” Gregory lamented. “Just be careful.”

  When Samantha waved him off, he pressed on.

  “Listen to me. Chief Wentworth has a lot of power. And when it comes to his son, he does appear to be jaded. If you even insinuate that Collin’s involved some sort of illegal activity, the chief could see to it that Jacob’s case is never reopened.”

  Samantha threw her arms out at her sides. “It shouldn’t matter who’s involved in Jacob’s death. The bottom line is he deserves a proper investigation. And that starts with Chief Wentworth putting an end to the nepotism and doing his job. He should want to get Jacob’s killer off the street, even if it is his own son. Now, if you’re not with me, then you’re against me. So thanks for letting me know where you stand. We’re done here.”

  She spun around and stormed up her walkway.

  “I’m not against you, Samantha!” Gregory called out. “It’s just that...” His voice faded as the sting of remorse burned his throat.

  He waited until she was safely inside the house before hopping in his car and speeding off, anxious to get home and check her blog to find out what she’d reported on Jacob’s case thus far.

  Chapter Two

  And that, my dear readers, Samantha typed, is how you color code your calendar in order to remain organized throughout the week.

  She saved the document to her Elevate Women’s Journal file, then glanced around the dining area of Danica’s Deli.

  The afternoon crowd had already cleared out of the quaint 1950s-style eatery. Most of the red vinyl booths and high-top tables were empty. A few patrons still sat in swivel stools along the counter, chatting up the servers while finishing their meals.

  Samantha’s head was still buzzing after meeting with Ava for lunch a couple of hours ago. She couldn’t wait to post the latest intel she’d just received on Jacob’s murder.

  Before she was able to get to that, Samantha had to edit her monthly “A Woman’s Guide to Practical Living” column for the women’s journal, which was what paid the bills.

  Just as she began composing an email to her column’s editor, Regina, her cell phone buzzed.

  “Speaking of the devil,” she moaned after glancing down and seeing a text message notification from Regina pop up on the screen.

  Samantha rushed to email the article to her, then opened the text.

  Hey, Sam! Please be sure to turn your column in to me before 3:00 p.m. I’d like to finalize the layout by tomorrow so that we can go to press before the end of the week.

  Thanks! Regina

  “Two steps ahead of ya, Reggie Reg,” Samantha muttered as she replied to the message.

  Good afternoon! Have you checked your email recently? I just sent the article to you. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thank you!

  As soon as she sent the text, Samantha felt a strong, warm hand grip her shoulder. She gasped and practically jumped out of her seat before grabbing the edge of the table and spinning around.

  When she saw Detective Harris standing over her, Samantha closed her eyes and emitted a slow sigh of relief.

  “Hey, you,” he chuckled, clearly amused by her startled reaction. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

  “Um, yeah, you did.”

  In spite of still being irritated with him for refusing to get involved with the investigation of Jacob’s death, Samantha felt her demeanor soften at the sight of the detective’s seductive smirk.

  “You can’t just walk up on somebody like that from behind and put your hands on them,” she continued, her high-pitched tone filled with sass.

  “My apologies. Next time I’ll be sure to walk up on you from the front before I put my hands on you...”

  Samantha eyed the detective curiously, taken aback by his blatant flirtation.

  “So what’s up?” he asked, glancing over at her computer screen. “You working on your blog?”

  “Not yet. I just wrote an article for the women’s journal I work for called Elevate. Now that it’s done, I’ll be getting back to Someone Knows Something.”

  As Detective Harris’s gaze traveled from Samantha’s eyes to her lips and lingered there, she felt flickers of heat creep up the back of her neck. She grabbed her glass of iced green tea and took several long sips.

  “I checked out your blog when I got home last night. After our—” he paused, staring up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words to say “—rather spirited conversation, I decided to look a little deeper into Jacob’s death. But I noticed you hadn’t posted much information on it.”

  “That’s because I didn’t have much information on it up until now. I just had lunch with his sister, Ava, and she shared a ton of info with me.”

  Samantha paused, peering at the detective as he appeared to hang on her every word.

  “Wait.” She continued, “What’s with the sudden curiosity? I thought you weren’t interested in finding out the truth about Jacob’s murder.”

  Detective Harris turned away from her. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then shrugged his shoulders.

  “I was never not interested. You’ve just managed to capture my attention.”

  Samantha couldn’t tell whether he was referring to her blog, or her, or both. Either way, his suggestive statement caused a tingling sensation to swirl inside her chest.

  “Oh, so I’ve captured your attention, huh?” she quipped.

  “Yes. You have. And don’t be shocked by what I’m about to say, but I’d actually like to check out the area where Jacob’s body was found.”

  She leaned back in her chair as her eyelids lowered with surprise. “Really? Wow. I am shocked to hear that. And what’s interesting is that after meeting with Ava today, I was thinking I should go check out the crime scene as well. Maybe even post some photos of it on Someone Knows Something. You never know. Those pics might trigger someone to come forward with information on something they’ve seen or heard.”

  The detective glanced down at his watch. The corners of his shapely lips curled into a subtle smile.

  Just as thoughts of how his mouth would feel pressed against hers crept into Samantha’s mind, he spoke up.

  “Well, what do you think of us heading over there together now?” he asked before abruptly holding out his hands. “I mean, unless you’re too busy and don’t have time.”

  “No, no. Now is cool, actually. That way I can get those photos taken and include them in my next blog post. Plus this will give me a chance to tell you everything I found out from Ava today. If you want to hear about it, that is,” she added quickly.

  Samantha folded her hands tightly, anxiously awaiting his response.
It was clear that she and the detective were both walking on eggshells with one another as they wondered just how far this investigation would take them. She hoped that this would be the start of his involvement in the cold case.

  “Sure,” he said, readjusting the shoulder holster that was tucked inside his black leather bomber jacket. “I’m open to hearing more about it. Did you drive here?”

  “I did. I’m assuming you did as well?”

  “Yes. Why don’t you leave your car here and I’ll drive?”

  The thought of sitting in the car next to Detective Harris caused a wave of nervous flutters in the pit of Samantha’s stomach.

  Okay, she thought to herself. Stop acting like a googly-eyed high schooler and pull yourself together.

  “Yes, that does make sense,” she said, struggling not to sound as excited as she felt.

  Samantha looked down and noticed that her hands were shaking as she closed her laptop and slid her things inside her tote bag. She peeked over at the detective, hoping he wasn’t watching her fumble about. Luckily he was too busy tapping away on his cell phone to notice.

  After taking a few discreet, calming breaths, Samantha drained her glass of iced tea, stood up and grabbed her bag.

  “Are you ready?” she asked. “Partner?”

  “Hold on, now, hold on,” Detective Harris chuckled. “Don’t go getting too excited. Just because I’m accompanying you to the crime scene doesn’t mean I’m about to get all wrapped up in this case with you.”

  “We’ll see,” she rebutted.

  And with that, Samantha spun around on her heels, brushing up against the detective’s gym-honed chest before sashaying toward the door with an extra twist in her hips.

  * * *

  GREGORY SWALLOWED HARD, struggling to compose himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off Samantha as she breezed past him. Her slim, curvy silhouette, which was perfectly outlined in her cropped moto jacket and dark blue skinny jeans, roused a sensation within him that he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

  “You coming?” Samantha asked him, her hair swinging over her shoulder when she turned around and peered back at him.

  He put a little pep in his step and hurried toward the door.

  “Yep, I’m right behind you.”

  Pull it together, man...

  Gregory held the door open for Samantha, then shuffled over to her right side, making sure that she walked on the inside of the sidewalk.

  “Such a gentleman,” she gushed. “Thank you.”

  He glanced over at her, wondering whether her flirty demeanor was genuine or if she was putting on a show in an effort to lure him further into her investigation. Either way, he liked it.

  “I’m parked right up ahead, on the corner,” Gregory told her while pointing at a black Chevy sedan with black tinted windows.

  “Nice. This makes me feel like I’m going on a real-life ride along.”

  “Uh-oh,” he chuckled, amused by her excitement as she practically skipped toward the car and grabbed the passenger door handle.

  Gregory clicked the key fob. When the doors unlocked, he moved in a bit closer than necessary and gently placed his hand over hers. “Here, let me get that for you.”

  Samantha looked up at Gregory and emitted a slight gasp. The pair stood so close to one another that he could smell the piece of cinnamon candy rolling around in her mouth.

  “Thanks,” she said quietly, taking a step back.

  Gregory opened the door and once again found his eyes stuck on Samantha, watching while she slipped inside the car. She looked up at him and opened her mouth, as if she were going to say something. But then she turned and looked straight ahead, remaining silent.

  The detective would’ve been confused had it not been for the glimmer in her eyes. He’d seen that twinkle time and time again while on the force, in the gaze of many people he’d encountered over the years. By now he knew that it was an indication of pure gratitude for listening, for taking them seriously.

  He jogged around to the driver’s side, patting his jacket just to make sure the report he’d copied before leaving the station was still securely tucked away inside his pocket. It was.

  Gregory hadn’t yet told Samantha that he’d pulled Jacob’s file and studied up on his case. He didn’t know how deeply involved he wanted to get just yet. The detective figured he’d see how today went, then decide from there.

  “So the location where Jacob’s body was found isn’t too far from here,” he told her after climbing inside the car and pulling off.

  “Not at all. According to the map app on my phone, the exact address is less than three miles away.”

  “Right. So Westman’s Automotive Factory is on Everhart Avenue, and Jacob’s body was recovered in an alleyway off Kenwood Street.”

  “Correct,” Samantha confirmed. “And Kenwood is located two blocks away from Westman’s, which you already know is where Jacob worked.”

  Gregory noticed a change in her demeanor. She was sitting straight up in her seat, her expression stern as she typed away on her cell phone.

  Gone was the coy, playful attitude she’d had back at the deli. She was now strictly business. Had he not known any better, Samantha’s authoritative attitude would’ve had him thinking she was a member of law enforcement. But then he remembered that her father had been a police officer, and he assumed she’d acquired some of that commanding bravado from him.

  The detective glanced down at her slender left hand, which was perfectly manicured with pale pink nail polish. She wore a silver band on her pinkie finger, but her ring finger was noticeably bare.

  What are you doing? he asked himself.

  Gregory never paid attention to those types of minor details, especially when it came to a woman’s marital status.

  Stay focused...

  “So according to Ava,” Samantha continued, “the alleyway where Jacob was found is on the eight hundred block of Kenwood.”

  “Yes. Near housing numbers eight fifteen and eight seventeen, to be exact. I saw that his body was discovered in between two large metal dumpsters. And honestly, after seeing the crime scene photos, it looked to me as though his body had been forced into that small space. There’s no way he could’ve ended up there on his own, especially if he was high on drugs like the police report suggested, and...”

  Gregory’s voice trailed off when he noticed Samantha gripping her chest while scrutinizing him intently.

  “After seeing the crime scene photos?” she repeated. “And like the police report suggested? Umph. Sounds to me like you’ve done your homework on this case. I thought you weren’t interested in getting involved. What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

  There’s a beautiful, intelligent, inquisitive woman who cares about this deceased individual and who’s captured my attention, he wanted to blurt out. But instead, the detective kept his cool and racked his brain for a more appropriate answer.

  “Well,” he began right before stopping at a red light and turning to her, “after that heated exchange we had in front of your house, you sparked my curiosity. Your pain over Jacob’s death and desire to see him get the proper justice pushed me to take a look at the police report and find out what took place during the investigation.”

  “I appreciate that,” Samantha uttered, crossing her arms and staring out the window. She eyed the quaint Tudor-style homes and their perfectly manicured lawns lining the narrow street, while struggling to keep her cool. “I’m sure it didn’t take long for you to realize just how botched, rushed and inadequate that investigation was. I mean, seriously, it was a complete sham. I’d love to see that police report. It’s probably one tiny little paragraph long. Tops.”

  Gregory once again held his hand to his pocket and discreetly tucked the police report farther inside. No matter how involved he got with Samantha and this case, he had no plans o
f going against department policy and disclosing any of the investigation’s confidential details. At least that was his intention...

  “So tell me more about your meeting with Ava,” the detective said as he made a right turn onto Everhart Avenue. The bleak, desolate street, which was where Westman’s Automotive Factory was located, was a drastic switch from the charming areas surrounding it. “You said you found out a lot more about Jacob’s death than you knew before. What’d you learn?”

  “Well, we already knew this but, we talked about the medical examiner’s ruling that Jacob’s death was an accidental drug overdose. That’s a huge red flag in the case.”

  “Okay, and why is that a red flag?”

  Gregory noticed Samantha slump down in her seat as they drove past Westman’s, which took up half the block. Her eyes filled with tears as she peered out at the industrial building’s drab gray cement exterior. It was clear that the owners hadn’t done much to maintain the factory’s appearance since it had been built in the 1960s. Its few dark windows were covered in thick layers of dust. Old, rusted auto parts had been carelessly tossed along the side of the discolored outer wall. Overgrown patches of grass blew against the crumbling facade.

  “Wow,” she sighed. “This place just reeks of depression. There’s something sinister about it.” She shook her head and turned away. “Anyway, the idea of Jacob overdosing on drugs is asinine. He’s never done drugs a day in his life. And trust me, he liked to party back in the day. He could drink anybody in this town under the table. But drugs? That’s never been Jacob’s thing.”

  “Hmm,” the detective breathed thoughtfully while making a left turn down Kenwood Street. “That’s interesting. I did a little research on Westman’s and saw that they have a pretty strong support system for former drug addicts.”

  “Yeah. Ava mentioned that, too. Before Jacob died, he talked up the company’s bid to help recovering addicts get back on their feet by giving employment opportunities to people with felony drug convictions.”

 

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