Revenge is Sweet (A Samantha Church Mystery) (8 page)

Holidays were never easy for Sam and hadn’t been since she was thirteen years old. One day she would be able to tell her daughter why. The last year had been particularly rough and Sam had been drinking more than usual. She had forgotten not only her daughter’s Christmas play but that April was to spend Christmas Eve with her. She could still hear the anger and the hurt in Jonathan’s voice when he called about the Christmas play.

“She was a Christmas tree you know,” Jonathan had said in the accusatory tone he so often used. “I was watching her and every few minutes, I could tell that she’d take a quick glance out to the audience to see if you had come. Your seat, Sam, was the only one in the place still empty at the end of the play.”

Sam remembered saying nothing, letting Jonathan assault her with words, as though it was the punishment she deserved for failing to show up at her daughter’s play because she was passed out on her living room couch. A wave of embarrassment and regret crashed over her at his words, still stinging after all this time.

“And all the mothers and fathers met for cookies and coffee after the play and all the students were beaming because their parents had come. You know what April wanted to do, Sam? She wanted to go home. She was embarrassed because she knew that all the other parents knew why Samantha Church hadn’t showed up for her daughter’s first Christmas play. How’s a little nine-year-old supposed to cope with that?”

His words played over in Sam’s mind. She did not realize she was crying until a tear fell and had landed and pooled on the top of the cell phone she held in her hand. She
stared at the tear until another one fell and another one and another one.

Sam brushed off the tears and dialed the area code and phone number to a home on an island in the Pacific Northwest. Esther Church answered on the second ring.

“Hello, Esther, it’s me, Sam.”

There was a slight pause and Sam did not realize that she had been holding her breath waiting for April’s grandmother to answer the phone. She had only started talking regularly to Esther Church since April had gone to stay with her. Though Sam was married to Jonathan nearly ten years, she spoke to his mother infrequently and saw her very little. It wasn’t a secret to Sam that Esther Church did not particularly care for her daughter-in-law.

“Hello, Samantha,” Esther said stiffly.

Another awkward silence.

“How are you, Esther?”

“Fine,” Esther returned.

Sam was sorry she had called. “Good to hear,” Sam said and rushed right into her next sentence. “I know April’s probably not home from school yet, but I had a few minutes before going back to work so I thought I’d give you a quick call.”

“I was just on my out to run a few errands before April gets home.”

“This’ll just take a second.”

Sam’s voice trailed off, as she found strength to prepare for the worst. Esther Church had never made anything easy for Sam.

“I was, uh, wondering if you might be willing to put April on a plane and let her come and spend a long weekend with me. My grandmother and Howard really miss her and they want to see her. And, uh, I think April would really like that, too.”

“Don’t
you
miss your daughter, Samantha?”

“Of course, I do, Esther.” Sam paused, working to control her emotions. “It’s hard knowing she’s so far away.”

“You should’ve thought about that before all this happened,” Esther said crisply. “Maybe my son would still be alive.”

Oh God, Sam thought, now comes the lecture. In the background, Sam could hear one of Esther’s dogs barking.

“I’m sorry for what happened to Jonathan,” Sam said and she truly was. It meant that April would grow up without a father. Sam continued, choosing her words carefully. “But what Jonathan was doing was wrong. There wasn’t anything I could’ve done to stop him.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so self-centered and …” Esther Church’s voice trailed off for a moment. Sam was sure what was coming next. Her mother-in-law never wasted an opportunity to point out all of her weaknesses. Like mother, like son.
“… And if you wouldn’t have been so drunk all the time and acted more like a wife to Jonathan and a mother to April, maybe my son wouldn’t have done the things they say he did.”

Still in denial, despite all the evidence,
Sam thought. “Esther, I’m doing everything I can to try and make it up to April. It would really be wonderful if she could come for a long weekend.”

The phone crackled with an extended silence.

“Please,” Sam said finally, knowing that it sounded as though she were pleading, because she was, but she didn’t care.

“I don’t know, Sam,” Esther said in a huffy voice as if Sam’s request had wounded her. “I can’t decide right this minute and besides, how do I know you’ll send her back?”

“Esther,” Sam said unable to stop the laugh that escaped her. “I can’t believe you’d say something like that. I’m not a fool. I want nothing more than to have my daughter, with me, here in Denver, where she belongs. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

“Well, you’ve yet to prove that to me, Samant
ha. Like I said, I’ve got to go; I’ve got things to do before my granddaughter gets home from school. I’ll let you know.”

“When, Esther?”

“Soon.”

Sam heard a loud click in her ear. She sat in the driver’s seat staring vacantly out the window. The trees without their leaves allowed her to see an endless blue sky stretch out before her. The orb of the sun still shone brightly, warming the car, but her mood had soured.

Still holding the phone to her ear as if it had been frozen there, she felt as cold as winter should be and as empty as the sky was vast.

By the time Sam returned to the office, her spirits felt lighter, helped by a good cry in the car warmed by the sun. She walked to her desk, wanting to believe that there was a chance, however small, that Esther would let April come home soon for a long weekend.

Sam did not allow herself to get too excited. She did not want to get her hopes up and have them dashed if Esther said no. She wanted to call Nona and Howard and tell them that April might be coming, but decided to wait until she knew for certain. She could never second guess where Esther Church was concerned.

Sam allowed herself to imagine driving to Denver International Airport, giddy with the excitement of seeing her daughter. It was only a month since April had gone to stay (Sam refused to use the word ‘live’) with her Grandmother, but it was the first that Sam had been separated from her daughter for so long. Sam wanted to imagine April looking for her in the terminal, spotting her from a distance and breaking into a run to fall into her arms. That April would be grinning from ear to ear as Sam wrapped her arms around her. She imagined feeling April’s tender young bones in her arms and how she would bury her face in her daughter’s hair and simply soak up the smell of her.

Sam was smiling with hopeful thoughts when she saw her e-mail icon flashing in the upper right on her computer screen. She removed her coat and put her purse in the drawer. She could not help thinking—even hoping—that it would be another message from Wilson’s kidnappers. Fear tickled the back of her throat.

She held her breath and doubled clicked on the icon.

There it was. Waiting for her, another e-mail message. The subject line contained a single word in bright blue letters, staring at her, taunting her. She swallowed, and mumbled “oh God,” under her breath.

Dead

She stared at the word and tried not to think of the implications. Of what it could mean for Wilson.

Or her.

Sam glanced around the newsroom hoping no one was watching. The room was empty, save for the photographer. He paid her no attention, fully bent over his laptop, examining digital images from his
latest photo shoot. She double-clicked on the message.

Dead

The first line said again. She closed her eyes, not wanting to read anymore, but forced herself to continue. The next and the only other text in the e-mail followed.

it’s only a matter of time …

Sam felt her heart jump start in her chest. Her fearful thoughts had little time to develop. Anne was buzzing her from the reception desk.

“Sam? You there?”

Sam snatched up the receiver, still keeping her eyes on the e-mail. “Yes, Anne. What’s up?”

“There are a couple of police officers up here to see you.”

“Me?” Her breath stopped in her throat and she looked toward Nick’s office.

“That bastard better not have said anything,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Sam? You comin’ up?”

“Sure,” Sam said into the phone, “I’ll be right there.”

Sam gingerly cradled the phone, but stayed at her desk and began to fiddle nervously with a ballpoint pen she held in her hand.

Thinking.

Nick couldn’t be that stupid ... surely he wouldn’t have called the police yet, not after our conversation … maybe this was about something else. Maybe these are the same guys who came while I was in the hospital…

Sam minimized the e-mail, rose and began to walk slowly toward the stairs, stalling deliberately to give herself more time to think. She passed Nick’s office and glanced in. He was at his desk and she stormed in without an invitation, closing the door behind her. Nick had just taken a big bite from his sandwich. He looked at Sam as if to say ‘what are you doing here?’

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sam said, trying to keep the anger from her voice.

“What?” Nick said through a mouth full of
food.

“There are two Grandview police officers upstairs waiting to talk to me,” Sam said, jerking her thumb toward the reception area. “Anne just buzzed me and asked me to come up.”

Nick looked at her and then began chewing. He shook his head slowly, studying her, wondering why he cared about what made this woman tick.

“You’re crazier than I thought,” Nick said and set his sandwich on a wrapper with a Subway logo on it.

He picked up his soda and took a quick drink. Sam watched the color of the straw as it filled with a dark liquid. He set the cup down and finished chewing the rest of the food in his mouth and swallowed.

“What’d you tell them?” she asked.

“Sam, for Christ’s sake, I didn’t tell
them
anything. I haven’t made a single call to anyone. Don’t go falling apart on me now. I don’t know why they’re here, but I know you’re not working on any kind of a story, so it can’t be because of something like that.”

Sam grunted and folded her arms tightly across her chest. He was being sarcastic now and she hated him when he acted like that. Sam was beginning to feel desperate.
She turned and looked out a small window that paralleled his chair. The view gave way to a large group of cottonwood trees that were bare now except for a few stubborn leaves that had managed to hang on. The leaves dangled from the empty branches, moving slightly in the afternoon breeze. The sky beyond, covered in a thin flat layer of white clouds, was pale blue.

“Sam, I’m sure it has nothing to do with Wilson,” Nick said.

The softness in Nick’s voice surprised her and it brought her eyes back to his. He waited a moment, as if sensing her vulnerability.

“Sam, look, I am sure it’s nothing,” he said again. “Whatever it is, I haven’t said anything to anyone. I don’t like it one bit, and I don’t know how much longer we can sit patiently here without doing something, because
we’ll have to do something soon…”

Nick’s voice trailed off as he shifted his attention to the calendar on his wall and studied it a moment. Sam looked with him. Wilson was due home on Saturday. It was Tuesday.

“I know,” Sam said, finishing the rest of his thoughts, “I know, Wilson’s supposed to be flying home on Saturday. It doesn’t give us much time.”

“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 diss
olved 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 conscious, a clean slate on his soul.
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.”