“I’ll be out on the deck. Hurry.”
Once situated outside, cigarette in hand and mug in the other, Sam did her best to stop shaking. The past several days and nights her nerves had been wound tight.
After sleeping only four hours upon returning from the crazy adventure with Bradford, Suzy shook her awake, gripping her arm with such force it left bruises.
Suzy pointed to the stain of red on her dress and sheets, holding a finger to her lips so not to wake their mother. Both exited the bed without disturbing Charmaine’s rest and went downstairs.
Resa had left a note on the reception desk saying she called her husband to come get her, so Sam helped Suzy to the Tahoe and sped off to the emergency room.
Neither said a word while waiting, each considering the spontaneous miscarriage was for the best. After being seen by the attending physician, a dilation and curettage performed, and her sister loopy from pain meds, Sam took her home.
To her credit, Suzy pulled off the lie with ease, telling Reed she was suffering from a horrid case of cramps so intense she asked Sam to take her to the hospital for a shot of Demerol.
Sweet, good-natured Reed never gave any indication he detected something wrong with her story. He scooped up his bride from the front seat, carrying her inside their home with slow, easy steps, cooing his love and concern the entire time.
It was a sad yet endearing scene. Sam teared up as she drove away, wishing she had someone in her life who loved her, faults and all. Once home, she picked up her mother and drove her to her house while continuing on with the lie about what happened to Suzy.
There were some things her mother didn’t need to know.
For the next several days, all communication with those she loved was done via texts. She and her mother breathed a sigh of relief when Bradford sent one after dropping Kip off, telling her the man had no recollection of what happened at her house.
Sam’s gaze landed on the fading stain on the wood where she found the dismembered cat, making her shiver.
Except for when she took Suzy to the hospital, she kept the gun on her hip. At night, she compulsively checked the locks at least three times before retiring to her room. She tried to sleep yet only managed short catnaps like Wee Thing. Terrible nightmares plagued her each time she nodded off about Richard showing up. Several times, she woke with a start, heart pounding, clothes and bedding covered in sweat.
The sound of a car door slamming brought her back to the present. On instinct, her hand rested on the butt of the Glock. Rising from the chair, she walked over to the side of the house, peeking around the corner. A rush of air left her lungs when she realized it was Bradford.
Watching him cross the parking lot, she squinted as the bright morning sun caressed his face, studying his mannerisms, searching for any signs of his current mood.
Walking up the steps, Bradford kept his expression neutral while handing Samantha a piece of paper. “I’m Specimen A, you’re B, and Kip is C.”
Sam’s knees wobbled so she walked back over to the table while scanning the paper. Noting the allele match of 98% between C and D, a wave of emotions slammed into her chest. She tried to keep the deluge of tears at bay yet failed. Collapsing onto the chair, she let the paper flutter to the deck as she sobbed into her hands.
“Happy…tears…for us all,” she managed between gasps.
“Your reaction is a bit messier and emotional than mine but yes, happy tears. You get to return your father and grandfather to their rightful mental pedestals. I get to let out a breath I held far too long. It’s a relief I don’t have to explain to my son and daughter what a lowlife jerk I was when younger. Here, I sort of figured this might be your reaction.”
Reaching out, she grabbed the hanky from Bradford’s hand, wiping the wetness away from her face. “I hate to be rude, but are you sure the samples didn’t get mixed up?”
Bradford smiled while scooping up the paper. “I’m positive. If your grandfather or father sired Kip, there would be a match to your sample as well. My guy’s thorough. Promise.”
“I feel so bad for my nana. She thought she was protecting the family from this shameful secret, and it turns out not to be true. I know she loved Pop, but she doted and lived for Big Sam. I wonder if Maria ever told her the truth?”
“An unsolvable mystery you must wait to uncover until on the other side.”
Sam sighed. “True. She was careful. I went through everything in the house, including the contents of the safe. The only thing I found was the envelope I showed you. She didn’t keep any sort of written record, diary, or even a slip of paper.”
“Smart woman.”
“Why do you think Maria listed only S. Chapman as the father? If she was after money, wouldn’t it make more sense to say from the beginning it was Pop’s child? I mean, Big Sam was a young man with no money of his own. Pop’s was the one with a business. Guess option number three was a poor man too?”
“If I had to venture a guess, since Maria used to date Big Sam, she knew how close Caroline was to him. A husband can be divorced—the bond with a child is permanent. Specimen D is wealthy now, but back in the day, he struggled for cash like the rest of us. Maria was milking him for money too. He was thrilled when she was sentenced to prison and didn’t shed one tear when she died.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “What a lowlife, money-hungry bitch.”
“Yep. I’m glad I was a poor man and not married at the time, or Maria probably would’ve tried to get into my pocketbook.”
“What a nightmare. At least it’s over for our families. Have you told my mom yet? About Big Sam…not about Pop. We’re still keeping that between us, right?”
“Right. No. I just picked up the results. Your place was closer. Besides, I wanted to discuss something with you first.”
“What’s that?”
“If you don’t mind, please let me tell Charmaine the love of her life didn’t father another child. I kept my promise and didn’t say a word about our little side venture or what we talked about on Thursday. Did you?”
Sam nodded.
“Good. I owe her the truth about why I’m helping out. My hope is she’ll be so relieved about Big Sam not being the father she’ll forgive me for not telling her about my relationship with Maria sooner.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high, Bradford. Mom’s got a mean streak.”
“I’m aware. For the past two days, I listened with wild-eyed wonderment as she plotted out what she wants to do to Richard.”
Pointing to the chair opposite her, Sam smiled. “Sorry for flipping out. I held my breath too. Do you have a few minutes to spare before you head to Mom’s?”
“Sure.”
“Great. During the last forty-eight-plus hours, I hammered out two plans, depending upon how the results came back.”
“I see. What’s brewing inside that mind of yours?”
Sam grinned. “Based off what you told me after your visit with Kip, the guy’s sort of stuck in the middle between two skilled blackmailers. Though he’s been rather shady since he put the cameras, I don’t think it was his idea.”
Bradford nodded in agreement. “I believe you’re correct. He’s a broken man fond of drink who misses his wife and child, which makes him vulnerable and willing to do Kathy’s bidding if he thinks it will restore the marriage.”
“Agreed. So, here’s the final version we discussed about how to end their little blackmail scheme for good.”
Bradford listened while Samantha laid out her plans. It was brilliant and devious. “Nice. I’m impressed. So, what’s in store for the ex?”
Leaning back in the chair, Sam lit another smoke. “All depends upon his reaction to unleashing part one of my plan on the Hales. None of them have leverage to hold over my family now, so I’m hoping this will put an end to the nightmare.”
Bradford scowled. “Samantha, surely you aren’t so naïve? We talked about this—just because he doesn’t have anything to hold over you doesn’t m
ean Richard will suddenly throw in the towel and stop obsessing over you.”
Patting the butt of the Glock, Sam let a sinister smile cross her lips. “If he tries anything, the slugs in this will stop him.”
“You made peace with crossing that line? You seemed a bit hesitant on Thursday.”
“Yes, though not the only reason I’m no longer worried.”
One eyebrow raised in confusion. “Oh?”
“Sleep has eluded me the last few days, so I used the time to do some research. Guess who I found and have had several phone conversations with?”
“Who?”
“Nicole Hammonds.”
Bradford let out a low whistle. “Whoa, I missed something here. I thought she died, so are you adding psychic to your resume?”
Sam grinned. “She wanted everyone to think so, including Richard.”
“Impressive. How did you find this nugget of gold? Wait—if you used illegal means, perhaps I don’t need to know.”
“I didn’t break any laws. I used the tracing database lawyers use to find someone. It listed her date of death and potential family members. I was rather surprised Richard didn’t use the same tactic.”
“Me too.”
“It took a bit to find her obituary online. When I did and read the accident happened near a lake and her body was never recovered, my instincts told me to keep investigating. Her sister’s contact information, including a home number, was listed in the report I ran, so I called.”
“And she talked to you?”
“Not at first. Once I told her the majority of my connection and interactions with Richard, she opened up. Less than two hours later, Nicole called me. She told me her family faked her death. They even went so far as to bury an empty box in the family plot at a local cemetery and purchase a headstone. Her cousin worked for the local newspaper and even printed an obituary.”
“If they went to those extremes, I’m surprised one of her kinfolk didn’t hunt the bastard down and kill him.”
Sam chuckled. “According to what she shared with me, it was discussed several times. In the end, she convinced the family her way would keep them safe and out of jail. She’s living in a small town in Missouri, about fifty miles away from her sister, working for a friend of the family’s farm—under the table, of course.”
“I can’t believe she told you the truth.”
“Trust me it took a lot of begging and sharing all my personal baggage. I told her sister to feel free to check me out and I assume she did since Nicole returned my call. I think what finally convinced her I was legit was when I told her Richard called me his little b.r.o.k.e.n e.a.g.l.e.”
“Why’d you spell it?”
Sam smiled. “Code phrase I set for you on the watch.”
“Okay, gotcha.”
“Richard said it was his job to mend me back together. He called Nicole that as well. She finally agreed to help should it come to that.”
“Help? How?”
“She’s going to email me a sworn statement about what happened, a copy of the incident report she kept from Ole Miss, and the pictures her roommate took of her injuries. She says they are grainy yet still impactful. According to what she told me, he really did a number on her.”
“Holy hell! Are you serious?”
“I am. Once she realized Richard abused me too, we clicked. I got the impression she’s been waiting for a day of reckoning and I happened to be the one who handed her the opportunity.”
Bradford shook his head. “I’ll be damned. You would make one helluva detective.”
Sam beamed. “Thanks.”
“So, if Richard attempts to run roughshod over you again, you’ll hit him with not only the video of him beating you up, but also the dirty mess with Nicole? Does she realize if the truth breaks about her faked death she’ll be in legal trouble?”
“She does, and yet is willing to risk it. I told her if anything happens to me she should go to the press. They’ll eat him alive after Suzy releases my video. I gave Suzy the key to the safe deposit box in case things don’t go as planned.”
“That they will, if it comes to that. His dirty deeds will go viral. Once you start the ball rolling with the Hales, you need to be prepared for a stealth attack from him as well.”
“I’m aware, which is why Boom stays with me at all times.”
“Boom?” Bradford laughed. “You named your gun?”
Sam nodded.
“When are you planning on dropping the bomb on Kathy and Kip? I believe she’s still living in Memphis.”
“After you leave, I’m calling Kip to request he come over and fix some faulty wiring tomorrow. Once he’s here, we’ll call Kathy on speakerphone and I’ll burst their blackmail bubble all to hell.”
Pointing to the watch he gave her, Bradford said, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Samantha. The watch needs to stay on you 24-7. It’s waterproof so wear it even in the shower. Have you preset the voice commands to start recording and call 9-1-1?”
“I did.”
“Then I guess you’re as prepared as possible.”
“I am, so please don’t fret. I need to text Suzy the news about the results, and you need to tell Mom. Thank you, again, for everything. I’m thrilled both our families are in the clear.”
Nodding, Bradford opened his arms, embracing Samantha. “Yup. I do need to make one other stop before going to see your mother. Will you give me about forty minutes before texting Suzy?”
Returning the hug, Sam replied, “Sure. I forgot you get to drop the news on bachelor number three.”
“It’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to having. He’s not a spring chicken and, uh, well, I don’t want to explain to his wife why he dropped over dead while I was talking to him.”
“Do you mind if I make a copy of the results? I’ll need one when I have the come-to-Jesus meeting with the Hales.”
“Keep this one.” Bradford held the page out to Samantha. “I have several copies. I think I’ll frame mine and have it tucked away in the casket with me. That way, I’ll be able to be eternally grateful I didn’t draw the short stick.”
LOCKING THE DOOR while watching Bradford’s car until it turned onto Hobson Street, Sam felt twenty years younger as she bounded up the stairs.
She couldn’t contain the excitement any longer. Instead of texting Suzy, she sent one to Resa: “In the clear. Not related.”
The return text was full of celebratory emoticons. “Wonderful! Congratulations! Early Christmas present!”
“No doubt,” Sam chuckled. “If you don’t have plans with the hubster, come over later. I have a feeling we’ll all head to Mom’s soon after.”
“Six okay?”
“You bet. See you then!”
“Luv ya girl. So much!”
“Ditto.”
Switching screens, she typed out a text to Kip. “Lights in the conference room are on the fritz. Please stop by tomorrow before noon to fix. Thx.”
The reply from Kip was quick. “OK. Ten?”
“Perfect.”
Deciding it was time to wash the grime out of her hair and pamper herself a little, Sam headed to the bathroom. Dumping a bath pod into the tub, she inhaled the scent of night jasmine coating the air before dashing back downstairs, checking the locks once again.
“Obsess much?” she deadpanned, doing her best impression of Ace Ventura.
Satisfied she was locked in tight, she went back to the bathroom. Wee Thing sat on the edge of the tub, his furry paw slapping at the water.
Removing the gun from the holster, she set it on the footstool within reach from the tub then undressed. The water felt glorious. The sweet aroma of the bath salts helped ease the tension from her tight muscles.
Though ecstatic Kip didn’t share her DNA, Sam was consumed by overwhelming sadness for Nana. She spent over thirty years guarding a false secret.
Thinking about Nana and her mother’s impending death made tears trickle down her already damp cheeks.
“It’s a good thing you’re dead, Maria. If I had found this out when you were alive, I would’ve shot you and buried your corpse underneath my house for all the pain and suffering you caused. Bitch.”
Wee Thing meowed while flinging droplets of water off his paw.
“I know, I know. Not a nice thought but it’s the truth. It’s not like she can hear me anyway. Souls in Hell are too busy screaming in agony. But, I guess I should watch what I say until the cameras are out of the house, right?”
Wee Thing’s response was a head butt followed by a rough tongue across Sam’s cheek.
“What do you think, kitty? Is there really an afterlife? Can they hear me? See me? Are the aware or gone? Are my memories of them all that remains? How can their vibrant lives full of energy, wit, wisdom and love, cease to exist?”
Staring into the kitten’s eyes, ones full of innocence and curiosity, Sam wished she could hear Nana and Big Sam’s voices one more time, assuring her as they always had everything would be okay.
She felt a crying jag approaching so she busied herself by washing her hair. Until the situation with Kip, Kathy, and Richard was over, she didn’t have time to ponder the great mysteries of life.
Once finished, she stood, wrapping an oversized towel around her while the water drained from the tub. While filling her palm with lotion, the phone rang.
Wiping the glob of scented goo across her chest, she snatched up the phone, wondering why Nicole was calling. Though the bathroom was warm, a cold chill raced up her back. “Hello?”
“Hey, Sam. Are you at home?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I know that means you can’t really talk, so listen.”
“Okay.”
“My sister called to share some very odd news.”
Sam’s hairs stood erect. “Really? What’s that?”
“A woman named Kathy Hale called her, saying she used to work with me at the club and wanted to get in touch about my ex, Rick. Shari pressed her, asking how she got the number. The woman said she owned the place now and got the number from my personnel file.”
Fatal Agreements Page 25