Roger Hagstrom grinned. “I don’t suppose Shelley Hatcher has anything to do with that.”
“Let’s just say she hasn’t helped any,” Sam replied as he turned to leave.
“You’re one lucky sonofabitch. Take care, buddy.”
“You, too,” Sam said as he went out the door.
He stopped by the Observer and collected all the files and documents pertaining to Marsha Bradley and Sara Hunt’s murder investigations. Before leaving, he ran into the sports writer, Al Clarkson, and briefly told him what he’d just learned at police headquarters. Al’s reaction, as expected, had been that of absolute shock.
The sun was just setting over the western foothills as Sam drove home. It was one of those spectacular late autumn sunsets, the sky bursting with radiant hues of yellow, orange and magenta gradually giving way to a deep shade of cold blue. He reached over and turned on the heater as he felt the chill of the crisp evening air and decided that tonight would be as good a time as any to break in the fireplace. He’d been looking forward to firing it up ever since he’d first laid eyes on it last spring.
He pulled into his driveway and retrieved the mail from his mailbox before continuing on to the house. Once inside, he brewed a pot of coffee and ate a cold chicken sandwich. Afterwards, he went into the den to get a fire started in the fireplace and noticed the tiny light on the answering machine flickering. He played back the message:
“Hi Sam-it’s me. I thought you’d be home from work by now but it looks like you’re not. I just called to thank you for a wonderful weekend-I really had a great time! Hopefully, we can do it again sometime soon. I know you told me you needed some time to think things over and I’m sorry to bother you like this, but I just couldn’t help it. I miss you already! Oops, I shouldn’t have said that, should I have? Oh well, sorry about that. I’ll go now before I make you mad. Feel free to call me if you happen to get the urge, okay? Otherwise, I’ll try calling you later in the week. Love ya, Hon! Bye-bye.”
Sam couldn’t help but smile to himself as he listened to Shelley Hatcher’s message. It hadn’t been twenty-four hours since she’d left to go back to Ashland, KY and already she was pestering him. It was beginning to look like the girl was more hung up on him than he’d ever imagined.
He went back over to the fireplace and finished stuffing in the kindling wood then placed a few medium sized logs on the grating. He struck a match, lit the crumpled newspapers and watched as they caught fire and ignited the kindling. Once the fire was burning steadily, he went over to his desk, sat down and turned on the computer.
Sam sat and stared thoughtfully at the computer screen, recalling the past weekend. Shelley had ended up staying over Saturday and that night proved to be every bit as wild and crazy as the night before had been. The next morning, or rather, afternoon, he had awaken feeling not only severely hung over but surprisingly at ease for a change. Shelley Hatcher and his desire to be with her had somehow prevailed over Ann and everything that went along with his former wife. For the first time since the divorce, he felt content-not so much because of what he’d done with Shelley Hatcher this weekend but more of the fact that he had actually done it in the first place. There was a difference.
In a nutshell, he at last felt free.
Ann had her life; he had his.
Love was no longer a pain, or even an issue. It had become something that had once existed but no longer existed.
After breakfast, he and Shelley had decided to go for a drive in the state forest. They had parked the Jeep and taken a long walk hand in hand-a few kisses now and then but no sex. Fun without sex: something new in his life since the divorce. Then they’d driven back to the house and Sam had pulled Shelley’s car out of the mud, told her what an excellent weekend it had been, then in the same breath told her that he needed some time to think things over. She seemed to understand what he was telling her and kissed him before climbing into her car and heading back to Kentucky.
When Sam had gone to bed later that night, he hadn’t been able to get to sleep. He found that he couldn’t turn his thinker off. He started thinking about Ann and Amy and realized that although he may have fallen out of love with his ex-wife, he still loved the both of them in a way that simply couldn’t be labeled. And he knew that he would always love them in this special way.
Then he had begun thinking of how empty and meaningless his life would be if something bad ever happened to the most important girls in his life, just as he had so many times before. He realized that he would always care for them and that he’d never quit worrying about them. And ever since Marsha Bradley had been murdered, he had acquired an uneasiness that he knew would never go away until Stanley Jenkins was caught and put away.
Then his thoughts had drifted to Shelley Hatcher and how she was like a breath of fresh air amidst all of the malevolence going on. When he was with Shelley, the world suddenly seemed to stop turning. All the bad went away and everything was good again. Ann became a distant memory, the past evaporated and the future was within his grasp.
Then he’d think about the murderer again.
The murderer continued prevailing throughout it all.
Stanley Jenkins had to be stopped.
Sam had finally fallen asleep at around 3:30 in the morning. Then he’d had a nightmare. In the nightmare, he was lying on a beach with Shelley Hatcher. They were alone on the beach, stark naked, making love. Suddenly he’d heard a telephone ring. He’d opened his eyes and reached for the phone lying beside him on the sand. It was the police calling-they told him that Ann and Amy had been found in their home raped and strangled to death. He’d started crying and turned to Shelley to tell her what had happened. She had started laughing hideously…
Sam’s eyes remained focused on the computer screen.
This murderer has got to be stopped…
He opened up MS Word for Mac and began typing: Suspect Sought In Bradley Murder…
CHAPTER 16
On Wednesday morning, Ann Middleton had a smug grin on her face when Karen Walker strode over to her desk.
“What are you grinning about?” she asked Ann.
Ann replied, “That was Sam I was just talking to. He apparently tried calling me last night and got a recording that my telephone number had been changed to an unpublished number. He was madder than hell-he had actually thought I’d changed my number because of him!”
Karen chuckled. “Did you tell him the real reason you did it?”
“It was tempting not to, but of course I told him the truth. Then he got all upset at me because not only had I refrained form letting him know about the unpublished number, which honestly had slipped my mind, but I hadn’t told him about the obscene phone calls either. He’s been really worried about the murder case anyway and now he’s all paranoid that Stanley Jenkins made the obscene calls and is out to get me.”
“You shouldn’t come down on Sam for that, Ann. He’s only looking out for you and Amy, which is understandable.”
Ann sighed. “I’m not criticizing him for that, Karen. I know he means well and I’d be lying if I told you that I don’t appreciate his concern. It’s just sort of fun seeing him all bent out of shape over nothing. That’s a terrible thing to say, I know, but I guess this Shelley Hatcher thing has sort of gone to my head and I’m still having trouble dealing with it.”
“Aren’t you being a little flippant about this Stanley Jenkins character, Ann?” Karen asked. “I mean-you act as though there isn’t even the slightest chance that he might come after you.”
“Well, of course there’s a slim chance, I suppose. But you’ve read the article in the Dispatch-why should I feel any more threatened by him than anyone else? Hell, you’re just as much at risk as I am.”
Karen shook her head. “Not true. The article said that he seems to prefer beautiful women, remember. That definitely puts me out of contention as a potential victim.”
“You’re talking nonsense, now. And I think that Bill will agree with me
on that,” Ann declared to her friend.
“Bullshit!” Karen exclaimed good-naturedly. “Have you told Sam about the prowler, yet?”
“I was going to until I saw how upset he was about the phone calls. Then I decided not to. I mean, why get him uptight over a false alarm, anyway? Ever since I learned from Amy that she had indeed come home to change clothes last Friday I have quit worrying about it. It’s been quite awhile since that incident in the backyard and I’m not even sure it was a prowler I heard that night.”
“Speaking of Amy, does she still seem to be okay with Jerry?” Karen asked.
“Yes, so far. I still can’t believe how well everything went with dinner Sunday night and I was especially proud of my little girl. She was well-mannered all evening and at one point actually modeled the dress she’s wearing to the homecoming dance for Jerry.”
Karen laughed. “So they got along pretty well, it sounds. Do you think she might actually like Jerry?”
“Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far. But she at least seems to be tolerant of him, which is about as much as I can hope for at this stage.”
“Are you seeing him again?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. We’re going to see a movie.”
“Sounds like Jerry is becoming habit-forming.” Karen declared with a sly grin.
“I have to admit it, Karen, I really like being with him. He helps make me forget all of the lousy things that have been happening lately, like Marsha’s death and now Sam’s latest little stunt with that woman. I’m having fun for a change instead of just sitting around brooding over everything.”
“Well, it’s sure good to see you so cheerful. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you so upbeat and together as you’ve been since you met Jerry. I think he’s really good for you, Ann.”
“I do, too,” Ann replied. “I just hope he can continue playing by the rules though. I’m afraid he’s starting to break down a little already.”
Karen Walker’s eyes narrowed. “What did he do?”
“Nothing, really. I think it’s more a matter of what he’d like to do.”
“What do you mean?”
Ann’s eyes looked away for a moment then returned to Karen. “Well, we were at the dinner table and I caught him staring at me… At my boobs, to be more specific. I was wearing a sort of low-cut sweater that evening. That probably doesn’t sound like any big deal but it was the way he was staring that made me feel a little uncomfortable. Then, when he realized that I’d caught him, he quickly looked away and his face got redder than a beet. Thankfully, I don’t think Amy witnessed any of this.”
Karen laughed out loud. “Good Lord, Ann, aren’t you being a little paranoid? He’s only human, after all. I catch men staring at my breasts all the time-they seem to have a natural affinity to them-but I don’t get all worked up about it. And now here’s poor Jerry trying to be a perfect angel for you but he lets his guard down and dares to stare at you in a manner that isn’t quite god-like, so you act as though it’s a federal offense. Give the poor man a break, dear!”
Ann fidgeted with a pencil lying on her desk. “I guess I may be over-reacting a little. It’s just that I want this to work out so much, Karen, and I’m afraid that it won’t because Jerry’s going to start wanting more than a friendship out of it.”
“Could it be possible that you don’t trust yourself, either?” Karen said.
“Karen!”
“I’m serious, Ann. My instincts are telling me that you wouldn’t necessarily cringe at the opportunity of getting intimate with Jerry, but you don’t want to admit it to yourself. Listen, Hon. I’ve been through the very same thing myself. After I got divorced, I had cold feet about sex, too. It’s a natural defense mechanism. You tell yourself that you’ve just gotten over an ugly relationship and that you aren’t going to make the same mistake twice, so you hold out for Mr. Right to come along. Let me tell you something I know from experience-you’re just wasting your time waiting for Mr. Right because he doesn’t exist! And in the process of waiting for this imaginary character, you let golden opportunities slip by-like Jerry Rankin, for instance. He may well be as close as you ever get to Mr. Right, so I wouldn’t let him slip through your fingers too quickly if I were you. Capiche?”
Ann remained silent a moment then said, “Alright, Karen. As usual, there might be some truth to what you’re saying. Why do you have to be so damn psychic all the time? You always seem to know what I’m thinking!”
Karen smiled. “Age, my dear, that’s all it is. There’s wisdom in getting older and that’s about all I can see in it.”
Ann took a sip of her coffee. “Well, I’m still going to ‘hold out,’ as you put it. At least for a while. After all, I just met Jerry-I hardly know the man! There’s nothing wrong with getting to know somebody before you go to bed with them, is there? Or am I just being old fashioned?” she added with a trace of sarcasm.
Karen shook her head. “No, you’re just being cautious, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with that. Especially nowadays with all the crazies out there. The point I’m trying to make is that you should watch that you don’t get overly cautious to the point that you scare Jerry off, that’s all. Give him a little slack, anyway. You’re asking an awful lot of him and you can’t expect him not to slip up on occasion. I’ll be frank, Ann. You are an absolutely gorgeous woman and I’m sure that Jerry is quite aware of that. That, no doubt, makes the temptation to slip up even greater.”
Ann made the same surprised face she always made whenever somebody complimented her looks. “Okay, Karen. I’ll keep that in mind. I might as well tell you now why I’m so nervous about all of this. Jerry wants to take me to his country retreat this weekend and I haven’t given him my answer yet. I have told him, though, that if I do decide to go that I have no intention of spending the night with him. He was quite understanding of that and he says that he just wants to visit the place before the weather starts getting nasty. What do you think I should do?”
“Go ahead and go with him! There’s nothing wrong with that-especially since you’ve already informed him that you aren’t spending the night.”
“I think I will. It sounds simply wonderful. He apparently owns an A-frame house nestled in the woods somewhere in Hocking County. The way Jerry describes it, it’s nothing short of Paradise.”
“This guy must be loaded, is all I can say.”
“He seems to be doing quite well with his real estate business.” Ann said.
“God, how I envy you, Ann! This guy almost sounds too good to be true. Hang on to him, gal!”
“I intend to do just that as long as things keep going as well as they are.”
Karen snatched up one of the travel brochures from Ann’s desk and started to leave. “I’ll chat with you later-I’ve got a client waiting for an itinerary. You go, girl!”
Ann laughed and realized that she was in an exceptional mood all of a sudden. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this happy and she likened the experience to those rare magical moments she used to have when she was a teenager in high school. Like when she would find out that some gorgeous guy she had had her eyes on for weeks was going to actually ask her out on a date, stuff like that.
She realized that for the first time since her breakup with Sam that things were finally beginning to look up a bit. Nothing had really changed, granted, except for her fledgling relationship with Jerry Rankin. And maybe that was why she was suddenly seeing things in a more optimistic light.
Jerry is good for you. That’s what Karen had told her. And she was right. Ann thought about Jerry’s country retreat and decided that not only was she going to accept his offer but that she was actually looking forward to it. It would be nice to get out of town and take a long drive through the country and enjoy the fall foliage. Most likely they would leave early Saturday and return that same evening. Amy would be fine in the meantime-she could either stay at home or go out with her friends. No doubt she would be
tired from the Homecoming Dance on Friday, anyway.
Suddenly it dawned on Ann that she had forgotten to tell Sam about Amy’s dance and wondered now if she should call and inform him. Then she remembered that she’d seen a letter in Amy’s purse addressed to Sam earlier that morning and that Amy no doubt would have mentioned the dance to him in the letter. Ann hadn’t been surprised to see the letter-Amy hadn’t talked to her father in a while and she had been into writing letters lately for some unknown reason-and her only concern now was that Amy didn’t mention Jerry to Sam in the letter. At least not in any sort of negative way. The last thing she needed now was for Sam to somehow turn Amy against Jerry and ruin things before they even had a chance to get off the ground. Then she recalled Shelley Hatcher and a smile came to Ann’s face. Sam was certainly in no position to criticize who she went out with!
Just then, the telephone rang and Ann picked it up.
“This is Ann Middleton, how may I help you?”
CHAPTER 17
Dusk had fallen as Sam pulled up beside the mailbox and retrieved his mail. Thumbing through the four or five pieces, he saw a letter from Amy, tossed the stack onto the passenger seat, and resumed up the long driveway to his home. Once inside, he went into the kitchen and opened up the letter from his daughter, thankful that she had finally gotten around to making contact with him. He hadn’t talked to her in over three weeks for one reason or another and he silently cursed Ann again for not informing him of her recent number change.
The first thing he saw when he unfolded the contents was a picture of Amy wearing a lovely blue formal dress. Sam stared at the photo momentarily, in awe of how beautiful his little girl was and how much older and mature she looked dressed in the formal attire. He then laid the picture aside and began reading:
Dear Dad,
It seems like ages since we last talked so I decided to drop you a line. Mom told me that you’ve been trying to reach me but I never seem to be at home when you call. I’ve just been so busy lately with school and everything-you know how that goes!
The May Day Murders Page 18