Revenge is Sweet (A Samantha Church Mystery, Book 2)

by Betta Ferrendelli

  Anne patted Sam’s shoulder gently and let her hand fall to her side. “Sam, you’re doing the best you can and you have to know that.” Anne brought her hand to her chest and looked at Sam levelly. She said, “I certainly don’t know what I’d do in your situation. Probably be a total wreck.”

  The women walked to the door. Before Sam opened it, she leaned against it and said, “Esther was really screaming at me on the phone when I was in Nick’s office, like she was almost going to implode. She said it was my fault that April was missing. I tried to tell her that the people who came for her weren’t the kind who checked in at the main office first.”

  Anne shrugged off Sam’s comments. Instead she said, “Don’t worry about what your former mother in-law thinks, Samantha. She sounds a bit goofy to me, anyway. What with all those dogs around and all. I would hope that she would have already called the police.”

  “She said she was going to the police station just as soon as we finished talking. She said she called me the moment the school called her, thinking I had taken her,” Sam said, placing an open hand against her chest. She could feel her heart beating hard. “There’s got to be an Amber Alert out by now.”

  “Dear God it’s got to be,” Anne said. “I’d hate to think of anything bad happening to that dear sweet child.”

  Anne’s words sent Sam into renewed bouts of tears, which came in a powerful, commanding burst.

  “I … I just don’t know what I’d do if … if I lost my daughter, too,” Sam said trying to talk through a halting voice. “I don’t know if I could stand it, Anne. She’s everything to me and … and she’s all I have and she’s missing and I don’t know where to start looking. I feel so hopeless not being able to do anything. What if April thinks I’m not coming for her? I can’t let her down again. I … I just can’t.”

  Sam was crying so hard her shoulders were shaking. Anne pulled her close and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so, so sorry, honey,” she said and her voice was soft.

  For what seemed a long time Anne held Sam and let her cry until her sobs turned to a quiet whimper. “Let me get you some tissues,” Anne said and pulled several from a box sitting on top the toilet. She handed them to Sam.

  “Thank you Anne and I’m sorry,” Sam said and blew her nose.

  Anne placed her hand on the side of Sam’s face. Sam closed her eyes and took another deep, shuttering breath. “You’ve been so strong, Samantha. I know it’s going to be hard, but you mustn’t give up your resolve now. We’ll find April and Wilson and we’ll bring them home safely.”

  Sam nodded, feeling empty and drained. She wanted to smile, to believe Anne’s words, but she opened the door to the newsroom with a sense of impending doom that surrounded her like a forest.

  When they finally emerged from the ladies room, Sam’s face was red and blotchy, her eyes swollen. David was on the phone when she crossed in front of his desk. He cradled the phone, looked at her and nodded. She waved slightly as if to say ‘I’m okay.’ David watched as she walked to her own desk. When he finished his phone interview, he looked over at Sam, who was emerging from her trance-like state. He watched as she turned toward her computer and guessed that she was checking her e-mail, the expression on her face devoid of any emotion. That, however, changed the longer she stared into the computer. She looked up and over at David, her face flushed. Seeing that he was watching her, she motioned to him to come to her desk. He rose quickly from his chair and took long strides to her desk. Over the chatter of the open newsroom Sam heard David ask, “Did you get something from them?”

  She nodded as he leaned closer to her monitor. “There are photos,” she said flatly. She scooted her chair away from her desk to allow him a better look at the screen. She was trying desperately to keep the Barbie Doll likeness of her out of her mind, still reeling over April having gone missing. She stared unseeing at the screen while David read the message. He immediately began to comb the e-mail for the identifying International Protocol number.

  After a moment of study, he said, “Looks like they sent this around midnight, maybe a little after. Looks like it went through the same channels as before.”

  The e-mail message was from the methmaker. Just seeing the word made Sam cringe with grim possibilities. Fear encompassed her. She felt it ready to swallow her whole.

  In the subject line was the words … For Your Eyes Only

  The message was still bolded in bright blue letters.

  David turned and looked at Sam over his shoulder. “Do you want me to open the file?”

  She nodded, wondering how she could ever prepare herself to look at what would appear on her screen. The Barbie Doll was laughing at her now. She thought of the first night at Esther’s place and crawling into April’s bed, warm with sleep. She bit her bottom lip. She didn’t want to cry now.

  David double clicked on the message. The accompanying text read:

  foolish girl, samantha christine.

  traveling all the way to the pacific northwest just to see your little girl. tsk ,tsk. should have stayed put, foolish, foolish girl. now we have her, too. thought you might like to see how well she and the old man are getting along. you’re next. before long, you’ll all be reunited. won’t it be fun again to be one big happy family. foolish, foolish girl…

  Sam’s hands were shaking and she clenched her fists. “They followed me up there,” she said shaking her head. Her temples were pounding following her outburst in the ladies room. “I led them right to my daughter, David. Esther was right, it’s my fault. How could I have been so goddamn stupid? But I … I had no choice. April needed me and Esther said she was sick. I had to go. She’s my daughter. I had …”

  David placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder to quiet her. She looked at him.

  “Sam,” he said. “It’s okay. You did what you had to do.”

  She nodded and looked down at her fists knotted in balls so tight her knuckles were white.

  “Maybe I’d better check out the photos myself, Sam,” he said.

  “No, David,” Sam said and shook her head quickly, firmly. “I have to see them, too. I have to be ready for whatever comes up on that screen. They have my daughter now. I will stop at nothing to find her.”

  David turned his attention to the computer and double clicked on the first JPEG image.

  Twenty-six

  The digital photo showed the backs of Esther and April walking to the bus. David studied it for a moment and then looked at Sam. “That your daughter and her grandmother?” he asked.

  Sam cast a sideways glance toward the screen, recognizing the familiar frame of her daughter’s slender body. She nodded, barely moving her head. “It’s them,” she said, returning her attention to her fists. “Can you open the next one, David?” she asked without taking her eyes off her hands.

  David clicked on the next digital photo. The big yellow school bus took up most of the picture but Sam and David were able to see April with one foot already on a step inside the bus ready to enter. A small, unintelligible sound escaped from Sam’s lips.

  “You okay with this?” he asked.

  “Keep going.”

  “They’re taunting us with three more,” he said as he clicked on the third JPEG image.

  The image was somewhat dark and it took David a few moments of study before he could determine the image he saw on screen. Then his face went smooth as he recognized the person. “It’s Wilson!” David exclaimed a bit too loudly. He quickly dropped his head, looked around the newsroom and lowered his voice. “Sam, it’s Wilson.”

  Sam scooted her chair close to her desk. She studied the photo. Wilson was on the floor, spread eagle. He looked to be asleep, but David and Sam knew differently.

  “Oh, look at him,” Sam said. She brought a hand to her mouth and covered it. “Bastards. What’ve they been doing to him?”

  “Sam, it’s okay,” David said and put his hand lightly on her knee. “Wilson’s tough. He’s not going to give in so easily.”

>   Two more photos to go. David doubled on the image as they stared at the screen in unison. “What the heck is that?” he asked rhetorically, but Sam answered. “It looks like a meat cleaver.” Sam swallowed hard, not wanting to imagine the possibilities.

  David doubled clicked on the final JPEG photo. He deliberately stepped in front of the computer screen to shield Sam from the initial image. She didn’t move to stop him. David studied it for a moment. “It’s your daughter. She’s in the same room with Wilson. He’s still out of it and looks like she’s waiting for him to wake up, and it looks like they wrote something on the photo, too,” David said and squinted as he studied it more intently. He looked at Sam and asked, his frame now completely covering the computer screen, “Are you sure you want to see this?”

  Sam nodded and he stepped aside.

  David looked on as Sam examined the file. The words scrawled across the image of April stared back at Sam, taunting her:

  pretty, pretty girl, maybe we’ll have some fun…

  Then Sam straightened her shoulders. “I’ve seen enough,” she said. “Sons of bitches have them and they took a great deal of delight in letting us know.”

  David looked toward Nick’s office. “I know Nick’s out the rest of the afternoon, but we’ll need to show him these photos first thing in the morning.”

  David waited for Sam to respond. When only silence followed, he looked down at her. She was unavailable, clearly lost in other thoughts somewhere deep inside. Places he was unable to visit. “We’d better wait until we show these photos to Nick before we do anything else. Are you okay with that?” David asked.

  Sam didn’t respond.

  “Sam? You listening?”

  “Yes, I heard you, David, we’re waiting ’til the morning to show Nick,” Sam said and her voice was mechanical, repeating what David had said as though she were a machine.

  The emptiness of her response made David suspicious. He cast a sideways glance at her. “Sam, you’re not going to go and do something stupid are you?”

  She looked at him and her laugh was harsh. “What am I going to do?” she asked. “They could be anywhere, David.”

  David stood and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I know this is unimaginably hard for you.”

  She forced a small smile, and put her hand over his and patted it several times. “I didn’t mean to be ugly with you, David, you’ve been nothing but helpful to me.”

  David glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a story to finish before tonight. City council is holding a special session on that controversial housing development. I’m going, but I should be home ’round nine tonight, Sam, will you call and let me know you’re doing okay?”

  “David, I’ll be fine. Really. I don’t need to bother you at night.”

  David shook his head firmly. He wouldn’t hear of it. He was in the middle of this situation now and he would stay until the end. “No, Sam, I’d feel much better if you’d call. Please.”

  Sam looked at David considering, what he had said. Then for a moment she stared off and focused on the white-faced clock, watching time tick away. Then she nodded, agreeing to wait for Nick’s return in the morning and to call David later tonight. David’s face relaxed into a satisfied smile.

  Sam waited until David was fully absorbed in his story before she picked up the phone. The call to the officer at the Grandview Police Department was picked up promptly on the first ring. “Sergeant King, it’s Sam Church.” Sergeant Bud King was Rey Estrada’s old partner.

  There was a moment of slight hesitation and the phone crackled in Sam’s ear. “Sam, how are you?” he asked.

  After an exchange of salutations and preamble, Sam asked her question. She turned slightly away from her desk and covered the mouthpiece with her freehand.

  “Bud, what was the address to that house, the one the department uncovered after the drug smuggling operation came to light?”

  “You mean the one with the meth lab hidden beneath it?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Boy, that was somethin’ wasn’t it?”

  “Sure was.”

  “Cost my partner’s life and everything,” the sergeant said.

  Sam swallowed the lump in her throat remembering the morning Jonathan had stopped by her office to tell her about Rey.

  “Doing a follow up story?” Sergeant Bud King asked.

  “Not really,” Sam said into the phone, still covering it with her hand. “Just wanted to tie up some loose ends for a few notes in my files.”

  “Sure, Sam,” he said and she could hear the slight hesitation in his voice. “For you and what you did for Rey, I can get you the info you need. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”

  “I know,” Sam said and smiled into the phone. “Thanks, sergeant, I appreciate it.”

  “I’ll call you back in ten,” he said and Sam heard the click in her ear.

  King called back ten minutes later, as promised. Anne was buzzing Sam’s extension. Sam glanced in David’s direction. He was still writing, unaware that she was looking at him. She picked up the line holding. “Sam Church.”

  “It’s King. Here’s your address.”

  Twenty-seven

  “I bet you’re going to grow up to look just like your mother,” Wilson said to April, who now had grown a little restless and was pulling at a piece of thread that had come loose from the hem in her pants.

  “No, sir,” April said, her attention now fully captured by the thread.

  “Why do you say that?” Wilson asked, his voice pleasant.

  April licked her thumb and index finger and was able to grab the thread and pulled. A long piece of thread continued to unravel from her pants. She pulled until she could not pull anymore and then used both hands to break the thread.

  Satisfied, she glanced to Wilson. “’Cause everyone says I look like my Auntie Robin,” April said beaming, a smile that radiated her entire face. Wilson could tell the comparison was something April was clearly proud of. “In fact,” she went on, “I’m gonna be an athlete just like she was when I get bigger.”

  After a moment, Wilson noticed April’s face had fallen from the glow of feeling proud to disdain. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to be like my mom, anyway,” April announced. “She throws like a girl.”

  “And you don’t?” Wilson said, not being able to keep from smiling.

  “No, way,” April was quick to say. “My mom has a wimpy throw. I throw like my Auntie Robin did. She’s the one who taught me. She throws the ball hard and far.”

  Wilson nodded. “I bet she threw the ball very well.”

  April nodded and returned her attention back to the hem in her pants. There was silence a moment and April looked up at Wilson. “It’s cold in here,” she said and began to rub the sides of her arms. Her jeans, tennis shoes and the white turtleneck she wore beneath her fleece long sleeved top would keep her comfortable as long as she were moving around. The clothing wasn’t going to do her much good sitting on the concrete floor as her body continued to absorb the cold that rose up through the thin mattress.

  Wilson patted the floor beside him. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you much comfort, April,” he said. “Because my clothes are pretty damp, but come sit next to me and I’ll see what I can do.”

  April scooted next to Wilson. He tucked her under his arm, remembering what Sam had once told him about how much she had always enjoyed holding her daughter near her. About how tender and fragile her young bones still were.

  “Grandma Church tells me that my mother is bad and that no one likes her,” April said, looking up at Wilson. Their closeness allowed him to see the dark flecks in her eyes and how large her irises were. She would be beautiful, graceful like her aunt someday, he thought. And her mother, too, though she did not realize it yet.

  “Your grandmother should know better than to tell you things like that, April
,” Wilson said, chiding her slightly. “It’s not nice to talk about other people like that. Would you like it if your friends at school said mean things about you?”

  April’s face darkened. She began to search for another piece of thread. “No, but … it’s true. She’s a drunk.”

  The word wounded Wilson. “Did your grandmother tell you that, too?” he asked, trying to keep the emotion from his voice.

  April nodded. “And my dad always said so, too.”

  He began to stroke April’s hair gently. No wonder Sam couldn’t get a break with her daughter. As if her own shortcomings weren’t enough, she had to contend with other people’s ignorance and shortsightedness.

  “Why don’t you ever want to see your mother again, April?” Wilson asked.

  “’Cause she came to see me over the weekend…”

  Wilson interrupted April. “Just this past weekend?”

  “Uh huh,” April said.

  “What was so bad about that?”

  “The first night she came she promised that she was going to take me home and I got so excited ’cause I thought that’s why she had come to see me. I don’t like living with my Grandma Church. I did make a new friend at school and her name is Laurie, and I’d miss her if I left, but I want to come back here and go to my old school, ’cause I still like it better. So when my mom was getting ready to leave, I brought my suitcase in her room to help me pack and she said she was going to take me home someday, but not today.”

  A stab of pain pierced his heart. “Is that why you’re mad at her?”

  April nodded.

  “Look at me,” Wilson said and he gently touched April’s chin and turned her face toward his. “April,” he began gently by saying, “You’re right. Your mother does have some problems, but she really does love you. Very much.”