Saving Sam

by Lynnette Beers

  “Why do they think it’s fine to play music like this in the lobby of a hospital, a place where people are barely clinging to life, a place where people are dying?”

  “Sam, come on, just keep walking. The guy’s obviously got talent.”

  “What do they think this is? A piano lounge?” Sam scowled at the older gentleman tinkering away at the baby grand. “I mean, at least play an appropriate song.”

  “What’s not appropriate about this song? What do you think they should play, some Blue Oyster Cult? Are you suggesting something like ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’ is a more appropriate song in a level two trauma center? This is a nice song, a happy song. Sam, hospitals aren’t just a place where people die. It’s also a place where people get well, a place where babies are born.”

  Sam stared at the piano player and shook her head. “Don’t you recognize this song?”

  “Isn’t it that folk song from the sixties by the Byrds? Who doesn’t know this? Well, probably teenagers or young adults like that girl you’re dating who probably doesn’t have a clue what good music is.” Annie smirked then grabbed Sam by the elbow and led her toward the elevators.

  Sam glared at Annie then yanked her arm from her grip and stepped back to the piano. She watched the man’s fingers glide over the keys. It wasn’t a song meant to be played on a piano with no vocal accompaniment. The purpose of this tune was the message in the words. Robert taught her that years ago when he practiced this song over and over.

  “Annie, don’t you remember the words to ‘Turn! Turn! Turn!’?” Sam asked and shook her head. “This is fucked up. Why would they have some piano player in the lobby of a place where people are sick or injured or dying?”

  “Of course I remember the words. They’re from Ecclesiastes, chapter three. Sam, music being played in the lobby of a hospital might be comforting for some people.”

  “Why would that be comforting? Tell that guy to get a job playing the piano at Nordstrom. Did you know Robert was born in this hospital? And now he might die here.” She folded her arms and glared at the man while he finished the song then transitioned into another one.

  Annie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She clenched her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Hey, you don’t know that. Robert could still make progress. You just have to have faith.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” Sam blurted out and flailed her arms in the air. “Seriously?”

  “Jeez, Sam, relax, will ya? I’m just trying to think positive thoughts. Robert is getting the best care possible. He could still—”

  “No, I meant the next song he’s playing. ‘Over the Rainbow’ hardly seems like the right piece to be played in a hospital. What’s he gonna play next? Louis Armstrong’s ‘What a Wonderful World’?”

  The piano player swayed back and forth as he made his way through the melody. He closed his eyes and played the notes, moving his fingers up to the higher keys. More people hovered around the baby grand. Once she walked away from the piano, Sam realized this wasn’t the original classic from The Wizard of Oz. She recognized this rendition only after a few notes—the tempo much faster than the original version. All those years watching Name That Tune resulted in Sam being as good as her mother at identifying a song in only a few plunks on the keyboard.

  Sam shook her head and sighed loudly as she headed to the elevators. “Figures he’d play this version. That Hawaiian singer should’ve left well enough alone and not done his remake of Judy Garland’s classic song.”

  “Hey now, don’t go dissing Iz. I happen to like his music, especially this song. But, this does seem like the wrong piece to be played on a piano with no vocals. Iz singing this with his ukulele really is the best. Any time I hear his version, it reminds me of our trip to Kauai.”

  Sam kept walking toward the elevator but didn’t respond to Annie’s last comment. She knew that a few notes plunked on a piano in the lobby of a hospital could hardly do justice to a classic such as this—be it Judy Garland’s original version or Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s popular remake.

  The crowd applauded when the piano player finished the song, and people dispersed toward the corridors of the hospital. Sam paced in the lobby as she waited for the elevator to arrive. She’d only been able to visit Robert for an hour last night after her mom picked her up from the airport, so getting here at eight this morning would give her a full day with him. She wanted to be here when the doctors made their rounds and while the physical therapists worked with him. Since it was Monday, they would likely be here sometime this morning to assess how Robert was doing.

  “Before we go to Robert’s room, I need to fill you in on the latest,” Annie said and stepped to the back of the elevator behind an elderly couple.

  Sam sighed loudly as she stared at the buttons on the side panel and waited for their floor. She attempted to take a deep breath, but the air in the crowded elevator was stagnant. When they got to the seventh floor, she squeezed her way past the people in front of her and stormed over to the wide expanse of windows to the left. She leaned against the glass pane and said, “So, what’s up? Any news on finding Johnny? Or is he still MIA?”

  “You okay? You seem...so edgy.”

  “I’m fine, just tired I guess. So what’s up with the investigation?”

  “I’m afraid we have no leads as far as where he is, but I did speak with the manager at Robert’s work. He said a man in his early fifties had been harassing Robert for a while now, said the guy came by and would hang out in the parking lot or down by the boat dock. The surveillance tapes confirm it’s Jonathan Patterson.”

  “He harassed Robert? For how long?”

  “For a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks? Why didn’t he call the police?”

  “He likely had no idea this was the same guy and probably just thought he was a disgruntled customer. For weeks, Patterson kept going to the boat rental place and would give Robert a hard time, asking him all sorts of questions about where he lived and what your dad did for work. The manager says the guy even threatened him.”

  “He can’t get away with what he did to Robert. You gotta find him.”

  “Babe, we’re working on it. He won’t get away with hurting Robert. The surveillance tapes confirm that Patterson came by pretty often, but the harassment didn’t start until recently...well, a couple weeks prior to the accident.”

  Sam paced from the windows all the way over to the elevators. She slapped her hands on the wall then stormed back to the wide expanse of glass. “He should be killed for what he did to Robert.”

  “In the state of Mississippi, attempted murder will get him several years in prison.”

  “Several years isn’t enough. He’ll likely get out in eight to ten.”

  “Not if I can help it. Early this morning I stopped at the station to read over the autopsy reports. On Friday, I’d only skimmed the basic details, such as cause of death, but this morning I read it more closely. The autopsy reports are pretty interesting.”

  Sam felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She figured it was her mom asking if she’d arrived at the hospital yet.

  “Chuck’s autopsy details are quite extensive. The coroner’s report says Chuck was bludgeoned to death. The notes submitted from the detective indicate they never found anything that could be used as a weapon besides stones along the river, so they couldn’t determine what was used to strike him. From what I can tell in the report, because no one was actually charged with his murder, they stopped searching for a weapon.”

  Bludgeoned to death made it all sound so brutal. A wave of nausea caused Sam to feel dizzy, so she steadied herself against the window. The coffee she drank on the way here soured in her stomach.

  “The skull was cracked wide open in several places. In one area of the skull, there was a concave wound where they say the assailant must’ve delivered the blows. Sam, how many times did...Robert hit Chuck? And do you know what he hit him with?”

  “He hit him a couple times, enough to st
un him, I guess. Robert was...just trying to fight him off.” Sam’s phone vibrated again, so she pulled it out of her pocket and saw a few texts from Kim.

  Made it to LA County.

  Sam knew that Kim and Adrianna would be at the base of the mountain in a few hours and would spend the night in a hotel where they would get one more full night of sleep before making the ascent up the trails in the morning.

  “Sam, the report shows there were at least seven blows to the head. Sounds to me like it was more than self-defense,” Annie said and furrowed her brow. Over the years, Sam was always attracted to Annie’s crow’s feet and the fine lines which had formed in her forehead, but right now, that concentrated look created deep crevices in her brow.

  “I don’t remember much. I was too far away to see clearly. I was...trying as best I could to hide from those men, so I couldn’t see what Robert used when he hit Chuck. I’m guessing it was a rock from the creek.”

  “The photos from the autopsy are pretty telling as far as what happened to Chuck. The autopsy shows it was a large, flat object that hit him. A couple of the blows to his face look to be caused by something angular, not round like a stone. As for Fred, it looks like he was shot right in the heart.”

  “The person who shot him must’ve been a good aim,” Sam said and peered down at the parking lot where cars filled most of the stalls. A steady stream of people merged toward the hospital entrance as the sun cast glaring strobes of morning light onto the walkway.

  “The report shows that Fred had froth in the lungs and airways. They think he wasn’t dead when he fell into or was pushed into the water.”

  “You’re saying he was still alive when he was in the creek? But I remember him falling to the ground after getting shot the second time. That gunshot wound to the chest had to have killed him. There was so much blood.”

  “The report indicates Fred may have still been alive when he was in the water. The cause of death is clearly homicide, but they’re not entirely sure if it was caused by the gunshot wounds or drowning. But froth in the airways usually indicates drowning.”

  “I know what froth in the airways means, Annie. I’ve been a lifeguard for ten years and have seen a few autopsies at the coroner’s office when I did my EMT training. But Fred was shot two times, at least. Maybe even three times. I can’t remember it all, but his body was totally lifeless when Robert—” Sam stopped herself as she envisioned Robert dragging Fred’s motionless body into the creek. Nothing about that man’s body seemed to have any life left in it. Robert couldn’t have contributed to the deaths of two men, could he?

  “I’ve seen enough photos of gunshot wounds to the chest to know that this is probably what killed Fred Patterson. There’s no doubt that this was a homicide, but when it comes to the investigation, the coroner’s report is inconclusive as far as whether the death was caused by the gunshot wounds or drowning. If he was shot and then dragged into the creek still alive, it really doesn’t matter because it’s clear he was murdered. Any way you look at it, someone obviously wanted him dead.”

  “And how is this information supposed to help you find Johnny?”

  “Right now, we’re just trying to piece everything together. It’s helping us understand why Johnny did what he did to Robert. What happened twenty-four years ago is helping us get a better sense of who Jonathan Patterson is and what he’s capable of. I mean, as far as what motivated him to harm Robert a few weeks ago. Even Johnny himself gave us a clue when he told Robert he was there to do to him what he’d done to Chuck.”

  “Who’s us? Who else is investigating the case?” Sam glanced at the medical personnel exiting the elevator and filtering onto the ward; she stepped away from the wide expanse of windows and peeked at her phone one more time to see another text from Kim and a photo of a little kid sent from Travis. In a mere few hours, Sam and Kim would be cut off from all cell contact once the riders reached higher elevation, so she wanted to send a few messages before Kim was out of text range.

  “Well, for now it’s just me, but I’m getting a better sense of how brutal Chuck’s death was as far as what Robert did to him. I can see why Johnny was filled with such rage when he tried to kill Robert by ramming his truck off the bridge.”

  “We should probably get in there to see Robert before the therapists get here,” Sam said and put her phone away. “I’m sure Mama is wondering where I am.”

  “Hold on,” Annie said and clasped her hand on Sam’s arm. “There’s more I need to tell you. Based on the original reports, they initially thought one of the Patterson brothers had shot and killed Fred. They found bullet casings along the river matching a handgun, the same type of gun a clerk identified after he’d been pistol-whipped by one of them.”

  Sam’s body became more tense. Images from that horrible day flooded back to her, but all she wanted to do right now was go see Robert. “Annie, at this point does it really matter who shot Fred? Seems pointless to focus on that right now.”

  “The autopsy reveals that Fred wasn’t shot by a handgun,” Annie said and leaned her back against the window. “The entry and exit wounds are consistent with shots from a thirty-aught-six.”

  “A thirty-out what? What kind of gun is that? Remember, I’m not a DA like Marsha who knows about specific types of weapons and all that. My crime scene knowledge doesn’t go beyond shows like CSI or Dateline.”

  “A thirty-aught-six Springfield is a type of bullet, sometimes called a thirty-oh-six, used in hunting rifles. The aught stands for zero. They leave distinct entry and exit wounds. The investigators found one of the bullets right there next to the Okatoma, so they’re sure this is what killed Fred.”

  “He got killed by a hunting rifle?” Sam asked and shot a glance up to Annie.

  “Yeah, I saw the photos from the autopsy. Clean shots through the chest and massive exit wounds in his back. Definitely consistent with this type of rifle.”

  “I sort of remember Johnny saying that maybe the police were shooting at them from down the river a ways, but I take it this type of rifle isn’t something law enforcement uses?”

  “Definitely not anything used by our law enforcement officers. Do you remember where the shots came from? Did they come from anywhere near your house?”

  “Annie, that was a long time ago. I don’t know, it could’ve been several yards behind me or else somewhere on the other side of the creek. The shots sort of echoed along the water. Why are you asking if the shots came from near our house?”

  “I’m just trying to get an idea of what happened the day Fred and Chuck were killed.”

  “Why would that matter so many years later? Annie, they’re dead. They were very bad men. It seems pointless for you to be investigating this now.”

  “I’m assuming...your dad had a hunting rifle. Didn’t he sometimes go deer hunting?”

  “Yeah, he had a few rifles. One belonged to my grandfather. Most of them were more for show than anything, but my dad and uncle would always go on their big hunting trip once a year. Robert even went with them a couple times, the first time when he was pretty young.”

  “Do you know if your mom still has your dad’s rifles?”

  “We got rid of them after he passed. Why are you asking about this? Are you thinking my dad had something to do with—”

  “Sam, I...don’t know, but I’m pretty sure your dad would’ve handled things in a law-abiding way. Besides, there would’ve been squad cars and officers surrounding the scene. They would have come to rescue you. You would’ve remembered a team of police officers there.”

  “Maybe my dad got home early that afternoon and didn’t bother to call in any other officers? He wouldn’t have shot and killed a man and not reported it as a justified shooting, right?”

  “I can’t see your dad shooting Fred and then not coming to rescue you right away. Besides, any off-duty officer knows to call for back-up. Your dad was a respected member of the police force for at least twenty years when this incident happened. He was a good ma
n. There’s no record of anyone reporting a shooting that day. The investigation started the day the two bodies were found along the river. That was a couple weeks after the murders, at least based on the autopsies and the approximate time of death for both Patterson brothers. This case was never solved, but nothing has been investigated in about twenty years. Did Robert...ever have access to your dad’s guns?”

  “You’re asking if he’s the one who shot and killed Fred? Annie, he was in the creek when the shots were fired. He nearly got shot himself but managed to dive under the water to avoid the bullets flying his way.”

  “I’m sorry...I had to ask. The investigation went cold months after the bodies were found. The notes from the detective indicate they suspected Fred and Jonathan as the ones who’d beaten and killed Chuck. The autopsy report indicates Chuck’s death was brutal, so I’m sure they assumed one or both of the other Patterson brothers had savagely beaten their brother. They even found defense wounds on Fred’s knuckles. They likely figured Fred was the one who hit Chuck.”

  As Sam listened to Annie, the images from twenty-four years ago flooded back to her. She squinted out the window. A couple of maple trees lined the walkway leading to the hospital entrance. A few billowing clouds eclipsed the sun for a moment. Sam stared at the bright orange and red leaves of the trees. Soon, those branches would be bare as winter approached.

  Annie stood closer to the window and continued to describe that September day in 1990, the afternoon Sam had tried as best she could to forget.

  “When dealing with investigating the death of someone like Chuck with the sort of arrest record he had, it’s sometimes low priority to figure out who the killer was. They obviously didn’t make this case a top priority back in 1990 and pretty much stopped the investigation about six months later. Well, or at least put it on hold until now.”

  “What do you mean until now? Have you reopened the case? Are you sure no one else is investigating this case?”

  “As of right now, no one knows I’ve been looking into the deaths of Fred and Chuck. Obviously, no new information is gonna change what happened back then. The world was probably a much better place without those two men in it. They wouldn’t be able to harm anyone else. Besides, each Patterson had a rap sheet a mile long. It would make sense to any detective that one of them would beat up the brother. Chuck had been arrested for rape and a bunch of other violent crimes, but he got released early for some technicality following the conviction for rape.”