“Less than a week,” Nick said. “And, no, we don’t have much time, but I am with you on this, at least for now, and I can assure you that I haven’t called anyone.”
Sam studied Nick a moment, considering whether to say something about the latest e-mail, the one that seemed to assure her it was only a matter of time before they killed Wilson. She decided to wait and tell him until after she met with the police officers. She pushed herself away from the wall. She had kept them waiting long enough. “Okay,” she said. Sam reached for the doorknob, but stopped before opening it. She turned, looked at Nick and said, “I’ll let you know what they said.”
He nodded, taking another big bite from his sandwich. A piece of shredded lettuce dangled from a corner of his mustache, reminding her of the other morning when the jelly filling from his doughnut was trapped in about the same spot. “You have a piece of lettuce right there,” Sam said pointing in the general direction of his mustache.
She opened the door and left his office. Nick grabbed a napkin and wiped his mustache, watching her leave. Sam began to climb the stairs. When she reached the landing, she saw two officers waiting dressed in plain clothes. For the first time she thought their coming might not have anything to do with her. She continued up the stairs and Jonathan popped into her mind.
Most officers from the Grandview Police Department knew Samantha Church. Not because she had covered the police beat at the Perspective, or at the Denver Post, but because her ex-husband had been a cop. The two officers had their backs to her, so she didn’t recognize them. Both were tall, well built, and dressed in dark suits. Their hair cuts, close to the sides of their heads, gave Sam the impression that they had come from the FBI, not the local police department. She half expected them to be wearing aviator sunglasses.
Anne noticed Sam as she reached the top step. “There she is,” Anne said, extending an open hand in Sam’s direction.
The men turned and Sam recognized one of them instantly. Danny Smith had been Jonathan’s partner for several years before her ex-husband had been promoted to detective and the rank of captain. Jonathan had also taken over then as the department’s public information officer. She knew that Danny was also a detective now. And she knew how he felt about her. Embarrassment washed over her. He, after all, blamed her for what had happened to Jonathan.
She directed her attention to the other officer. He was slightly shorter and younger than Danny, but she could not remember ever having seen him at the police department. When she saw the small brown box he was carrying, she knew why they had come. Her embarrassment dissolved to relief, then sadness; relieved that they knew nothing of Wilson being kidnapped, and saddened that they had come to bring her the rest of Jonathan’s personal items from the department.
Paralyzed with weakness and not sure she could trust her legs, she stayed at the top step. Danny started in her direction and the younger officer followed. She looked from the box the younger officer was carrying to Danny. When they reached her, Danny put his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
“How’re you doing, Sam?” Danny asked.
She was surprised at the kindness in his voice and at the gentle way he had placed his hand on her shoulder. She felt tears starting, but she fought them off. One of the last conversations she remembered having with Jonathan was about Danny Smith.
It was the last night of his life. The night he had come, she thought, to kill her. It was the reason he had confessed to everything, she thought, because he had come to kill her. But he had come to confess, to come clean, so that he could die with a clear conscience, his soul a clean slate.
She remembered Jonathan telling her that Danny Smith thought she was the cause of all his problems, why he’d done everything he had. But she knew it wasn’t true. She did not believe it when Jonathan had told her that night. And she did not believe it now.
Danny saw Sam staring at the box.
“Is this a bad time?” he asked.
Sam shook her head, not trusting her voice.
“We thought we should get these things back to you,” Danny said. “Someone else is going to be moving into…” Danny’s voice trailed off and he looked from the box to Sam. “Is there some place else we can go to talk for a few minutes?” he asked and he kept his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam cleared her throat. “We can, uh, use the big conference room.”
Danny gave Sam’s shoulder a soft squeeze and then let go. She turned to head back down to the newsroom. The younger officer followed Sam and Danny down the stairs. Anne looked on from the reception area, shaking her head quietly, watching them go.
The conference room paralleled the newsroom. Sam opened the door and felt cold air hit her arms and face as they entered the room. The chairs were turned this way and that around the big cherry wood conference table, shiny enough that Sam could see everyone’s reflection. Enough natural light came through the frosted windows that lined the perimeter of the room that Sam did not bother with the lights.
“Thanks, Rob, you can set that here on the table,” Danny said to the younger cop.
Rob did as he was instructed and stepped back from the table. “I’ll wait for you in the car,” Rob said looking at Danny.
Sam and Danny exchanged glances and they watched as Rob left the room, closing the door behind them.
“This is all there is,” he said when they were alone. “You’ll probably want to take it home and go through it.”
Sam nodded, not taking her eyes off the box. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That I hadn’t come by earlier to collect his things. There’s been so much going on.”
Danny had taken his sunglasses from his suit pocket and was fiddling with them. He said nothing.
“This has been hard for me too, Danny.”
He nodded and Sam could tell that he was biting the inside of his cheek. She knew that was a habit he had that Jonathan found irritating and had told her so.
“Even though we were divorced,” Sam said in a quiet voice. “I still cared about him. I wanted him to be here for April.”
Danny nodded, still chewing his cheek. “Well, like I said upstairs, someone else is getting ready to move into J’s old office, so someone had to get his things out of there.”
“You could’ve called, Danny, I would have come to get them.”
“It’s not a big deal, Sam. Someone had to do it and I guess since he and I were partners at one time, what better person than me?”
“Thanks, I appreciate you taking the time to bring everything,” Sam said and nodded.
Danny put on his sunglasses and headed for the conference room door.
“Let me walk you to your car,” Sam said and started to follow Danny out of the room.
“Don’t bother, Sam,” he said. “I can see myself out.”
“Thanks again for bringing everything,” she said.
He nodded and left the room waving good-bye.
Sam waited until Danny started up the stairs before she turned her attention to the box. As if she had no control over her actions, she opened the box and slowly started sifting through the contents.
She pulled out a piece of hand-held exercise equipment that Jonathan used often to strengthen his grip and forearms. She smiled slightly as she remembered going to his office many times and seeing him holding it in his hand and squeezing constantly while talking on the phone. He used it every day. She couldn’t remember a time that he didn’t own one. She tried squeezing, but it took her two hands to get it to close.
Next she pulled out a matching pen and pencil set that she had given him for Christmas one year. It was still in its original box and Sam wondered if Jonathan had ever used it. She pulled a five-by-seven framed photograph from the box and felt sadness and emptiness tug at her heart. It was a picture of April and Jonathan together on the beach. Sam knew Jonathan kept the photo on the right corner of his desk, where he could see it no matter what he was doing, talking on the phone, working on the computer, or talking to someone.
> In the cool, semi-dark of the conference room, Sam sat down in one of the chairs and rubbed her hand lightly over the front of the glass. They were in Florida when Sam snapped the picture of the two of them getting ready to venture out into the water. April was seven years old, but she was eager to go out into the water. A small smile spread slowly over Sam’s face. April, a carbon-copy of Robin, was a little rebel with no fear, not easily intimidated, ready to try anything. April had been swimming like a fish since she was four years old. Just like her aunt was at the same age.
Sam remembered that Jonathan had to hold her back, waiting for just the right moment to enter the surf. They were holding hands and April was looking in the direction where Jonathan was pointing when Sam snapped the photo. The water had just rushed in. It covered Jonathan’s ankles. It had gone past April’s knees.
Sam stared at the still images until they seemed to move. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Sam? You okay?”
Sam looked up. “Oh, hi, David.”
He entered the room hesitantly. “I’ve walked by a few times and noticed you sitting there. You hadn’t moved, so I hope you don’t mind me checking on you.”
Sam’s laugh was small. “I’m fine,” she said and patted the chair beside her, an invitation for David to sit next to her. “They brought the rest of Jonathan’s things from the department and I was going through them…”
Her voice trailed off as she went back and stared at the picture a moment more before showing it to David. He leaned heavy on the arm of the chair for a closer look. She handed it to him. He took it and held it with two hands. She noticed that his forearms were hairless, thin but muscled, laced with veins.
“Jonathan always liked photos where the people weren’t looking at the camera and posing,” Sam said. “He liked to capture them unaware, doing what they had been naturally when the flash went off. Jonathan really liked this one of April. He had it enlarged, framed and on his desk at work as soon as he saw it.”
“It’s a nice picture, Sam,” David said. He looked at the photo another moment and handed it back to her. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Oh, sure, David, I’ll be fine,” Sam said and rose from the chair. She put the photo back in the box. “I probably shouldn’t be going through this stuff here at work, anyway. I’ll do it tonight.”
David waited as Sam collected Jonathan’s items and put everything back in the box. He followed her out of the conference room.
The rest of the afternoon at work passed in a blur. Sam decided against telling Nick about the death threat in the e-mail. Maybe a foolish thing to do, she thought. She was more afraid of Nick calling the police than she feared the threat, at least for now.
By 5:30 p.m., the rest of reporters had gone for the day and Sam watched Nick leave his office and head up the stairs. He knew she was still in the newsroom, but he did not look in her direction when he left. She was alone and the large room was quiet, save for the usual squelch from the police scanner. She checked her e-mail for messages one last time. Nothing new. She shut down her computer without reading the kidnapper’s message again. She gathered her purse and coat and left the building.
A band of smooth gray clouds had covered the sky, casting the city in early twilight. The cold had settled in quickly as evening made its descent on the city. She buttoned her coat and walked slowly from the building toward the car. She could see herself walking through this parking lot many times toward her Mustang. She tried to keep her thoughts neutral, but she couldn’t help thinking of the night that Jonathan was at the wheel of her car. The last night of his life.
“No,” she said aloud. She would not allow herself to think anymore about that evening.
She drove from the parking lot and headed south on Wadsworth Boulevard toward Sixth Avenue and home. She thought about moving to her grandmother’s ranch next month. It would be a new start, and that gave her reason to smile. She turned up the radio. Her heart felt light again with the hope that April might come.
Wrapped up in her thoughts and listening to songs on the radio, Sam did not notice the dark sedan that had begun to follow her. It had been in the parking lot of the beauty salon, which paralleled the newspaper, waiting for her to leave. It followed her at a safe distance until she pulled into her apartment complex.
Sam heard her telephone ringing as she headed up three flights of stairs to her apartment. She quickly unlocked the door, rushed passed Morrison and reached for the cordless phone. She caught it on the end of the fifth ring, one more before the answer machine would have picked up the call.
“Hello,” Sam said, trying to catch her breath.
“Sam? Is that you?”
“Yes, Esther it’s me. Sorry. I’m a little winded. I was coming up the steps when I heard the phone. I didn’t want the answering machine to get it.”
“Well, I’m glad I got you…”
There was a moment of silence as Esther’s voice fell away. Sam’s heart sank, sure what was coming.
“Listen, Sam, I don’t think it’s a good idea for April to come now. She’s just got here and she’s started making friends at school and I don’t want to disrupt that so soon. This is such a tender, young age, and she needs to have some new friends now. You know how it is. You were that age once.”
Yes, of course, Sam knew. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She could feel Morrison moving in around her ankles, meowing softly.
“Esther, I’m not asking to take April out of school for a whole week, just a long weekend. Nona and Howard would like to see her just as much as I would.”
Sam opened her eyes and kept them fixed on a nonexistent pattern on a wall in the living room. She was trying to keep not only the disappointment from her voice, but her anger.
“No, Sam, I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Esther said unconvinced. “Besides she’s got a big science project due very soon and she’ll need some help with that.”
“Esther, please.”
“Why don’t you come up here?” Esther said.
Wilson popped into Sam’s mind. She rubbed the back of her head, where a small bump still remained from the night they were kidnapped. Sam wondered if Wilson was injured. “Esther, I … I, uh, can’t come to Washington right now. I’ve got something going on at work, that’s very important and I just can’t be away from…”
Esther cut her off. “Oh, I see,” she said in an accusatory tone. “Work is more important than the relationship with your daughter.”
“It’s not that at all,” Sam said, realizing the trap she was getting herself into.
“What is it then? A two-for-one special on a six pack of Bud this weekend?”
Sam took a deep breath and tried to ignore Esther’s hurtful comment. “Esther, please. It is very important that I be here.”
Esther snorted. “I think you need to re-examine what’s important, Samantha. Work or your daughter shouldn’t be a choice. You have an invitation to come. Besides, I’ve already told April as much. You should be on the first plane out in the morning.”
Sam wanted to tell Esther that she was being unreasonable, but she had already made her decision. She wasn’t going to change her mind through arguing. Sam looked at her watch. It was just after seven p.m. Pacific time.
“Could I talk to April?”
“She’s taking her bath,” Esther said in a huffy voice.
Sam nodded knowingly. Esther always made it a point to call when April couldn’t come to the phone to talk to her mother. Not that she would probably want to anyway. Sam couldn’t blame her daughter. She had every reason not to want to talk to her.
“Esther, I’ll see what I can do about making arrangements to come as soon as I can. But I’m sorry, I can’t be on a plane first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t be sorry to me, Samantha. It’s your daughter you should be sorry to. I know how you are. Just keep in mind that your daughter’s impression of you is still being formed.”
/> Sam heard a loud click in her ear. She took the phone away and stared at it. “Bye to you, too, Esther,” she said and tossed the phone on the couch, acid churning in her stomach.
She moved to the big chair in the living room and sat down hard. She stared out into the parking lot. Amber street lights glowing in the distance stared back. Lights were on in other apartments, people home safe for the evening. It was an often quiet and peaceful image that she usually found soothing, but tonight she stared at the sight unseeing. Morrison jumped up in her lap, meowing quietly. She scratched him under the chin, feeling a lift in her mood. The little creature had a way of doing that to her.
“Are you a hungry little fella?”
Sam went to the kitchen and opened a can of cat food and fed Morrison. Before she left the kitchen, she stopped, eyeing the cabinets over the stove. She knew there was a nearly full bottle of scotch up there. She was sorry now that she hadn’t dumped it down the drain with the rest of the booze she had thrown out more than two weeks ago. It was only tempting her now. A drink would help to calm her nerves. When she realized that she was salivating at the thought of having a drink, she felt completely disgusted with herself. She couldn’t give in to the temptation now. She pulled a dining room chair into the kitchen, retrieved the bottle and poured the remaining contents down the drain, holding her breath so the fumes wouldn’t entice her.
She went back to the big chair, not bothering to change out of her work clothes. She grabbed Robin’s Izod sweater and put it on. The color reminded her of the brown leaves she saw this afternoon from the window in Nick’s office. She remembered thinking how fragile they looked dangling from the limbs, barely hanging on. Yet somehow they had managed to stay on the trees through the coldest and windiest part of winter. And the darkest. They had survived, but now what?
Morrison returned and jumped in her lap. The heat from his body began to warm her and make her sleepy. She felt herself drifting off. She woke later with a start, dreaming about Jonathan. She looked at the clock on the mantel. It was nearly midnight. She had been asleep all evening. She felt hungry, but it was too late to eat.
Revenge is Sweet (A Samantha Church Mystery, Book 2) Page 9