“Awesome...”
Right before she opened the comment section, Samantha noticed a new message notification flash across the bottom of the screen. She clicked on it.
QUIT WHILE YOU’RE AHEAD, UNLESS YOU WANNA BE NEXT. CONSIDER THIS YOUR LAST WARNING.
Samantha abruptly pushed away from the desk. Her eyes blurred with tears as she reread the message over and over again.
Think of Jacob, she said to herself as her body began to shake. Think of Jacob, Ava and rest of the Jennings family. Think of the men who went missing from Westman’s. And keep going.
That was all Samantha needed to remind herself of why she was doing this. She slid her chair closer to the desk and tapped the New Post button, then proceeded to update her readers on the latest developments involving Jacob’s investigation, including the most recent threats made against her.
Chapter Seven
Samantha jumped when she heard a knock at the door.
She’d been tucked away in Hannah’s office for hours. After facing the horror of having a gun pointed at her, then receiving the threatening message on her blog, Samantha had been overcome by the need to take action. She’d turned to Someone Knows Something for solace and before long had uploaded two new posts and filmed a video answering readers’ questions about Jacob’s case.
“Coming!” she called out, opening the door slowly and peeking through the crack. Hannah was standing on the other side, her eyebrows furrowed and hands folded tightly in front of her.
“Hey,” Hannah said softly, “I just wanted to check on you. Everything going okay back here?”
“As okay as it can be, I guess.” Samantha shrugged. “I’m kind of struggling to hold it together emotionally, quite honestly. But the good news is I’ve gotten so much done. I don’t know, Hannah. I may have to start working out of your office every day. How much would you charge me for rent?”
“Girl, please. You don’t wanna be stuck back here in this cramped little space. Plus, your home office is gorgeous. I’d never leave it if I were you.”
Samantha walked back over to the desk and closed and slid her laptop inside her tote bag. “Thanks, but that would mean missing out on all your good coffee and edibles. Plus, working out of my home office can sometimes get lonely. There’s not enough human interaction. I love being here at the shop, socializing with you and the patrons. Except...”
“I know. Except for days like this.”
Hannah glanced down at her watch, then looked back up at Samantha wearily. “Listen, hon, it’s a little after six, and I’ve already closed up the shop. I need to get home and start dinner for my husband. For some strange reason, he forgets how to use the stove when it’s time to prepare something besides hot dogs and instant macaroni and cheese.”
“It is already after six?” Samantha asked, shocked at how quickly time had passed. She slung her bag over her shoulder and followed Hannah out of the office.
“It is. Time flies when you’re working on a passion project. Oh, and just to let you know, that patrol car Detective Harris said he would send out never showed up.” Hannah pursed her lips and tilted her head, peering at Samantha over the top of her rimless eyeglasses. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That Gattenburg’s entire police department is covering for Collin at the directive of Chief Daddy Wentworth?”
“You got it,” Hannah said before hesitating, then grabbing Samantha’s arm. “Hey, why don’t you come over to my house for dinner?”
“I couldn’t. I’ve imposed on you enough for one day. Plus, I’ve got a vast array of delightful frozen dinners in my freezer just waiting to be eaten.”
“In no way would your presence be an imposition. Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“Okay.” Hannah sighed apprehensively as she held open the door.
When Samantha stepped outside, a heavy feeling of dread crept through her body.
Dusk had settled over the block. She glanced down the street warily, imagining that white van zooming toward her out of nowhere.
Pull it together, she told herself, tightening the belt on her coat.
Samantha turned around to say goodbye to Hannah, who was still standing in the doorway. Her tense expression was creased with worry.
“I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of you going home alone,” Hannah told her. “Not after what happened this morning.”
“Come on,” Samantha replied, her tone more confident than her feelings. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She grabbed Hannah’s hand and pulled her out of the doorway, then took the key and locked the door herself.
“Well, I would probably feel a whole lot better if I knew Detective Harris was around. Have you heard from him lately? I was hoping he’d be back in Gattenburg by now.”
“I actually sent him a text about an hour ago, but I haven’t heard back just yet—”
Samantha was interrupted by the buzzing of her cell phone. A message notification from Gregory popped up on the screen.
“Seems I just needed to mention him to have him reply. This is him texting now.”
“Oh, good,” Hannah sighed, pressing her hands against her cheeks. “What’d he say?”
Samantha swiped her security code across the screen and opened the message.
“‘Hey, Sam,’” she read aloud, “‘sorry for the late response. I just got out of the training. They tacked on an impromptu use of force segment at the very end. I should be back in Gattenburg in about an hour or so. Do you want me to meet you at the coffee shop?’”
“Tell him yes!” Hannah exclaimed. She grabbed the key out of Samantha’s hand and unlocked the door. “Let Detective Harris know that he can absolutely meet you here. I’ll call my husband and tell him that he needs to find a snack to munch on until I get home—”
“You will do no such thing,” Samantha interrupted. “You’ve been here since five o’clock this morning. I refuse to make you stay any longer.”
Hannah opened the door. “Do not concern yourself with me. I’m thinking about you and that van incident. Now come on. Let’s go inside and wait until Detective Harris gets here.”
“I’m not doing this with you, Hannah. That incident happened hours ago. I will be fine. Now go home and enjoy dinner with your husband. I’ll just have Detective Harris meet me at my house.”
“Are you sure, Samantha?”
“Yes. I’m positive.”
Hannah shook her head and relocked the door. As the pair headed toward the curb, Samantha grabbed her hand.
“I appreciate you. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
Samantha climbed inside her car and composed a text message to Gregory.
The coffee shop is closed, so I’m heading home. Can you meet me there instead? Thanks again for this...
She sent the message, then started her engine and glanced uneasily in the rearview mirror.
Dusk had quickly turned to darkness. The road was empty, and the block appeared bleak.
She clenched her jaw and waited until Hannah was safely inside her car before pulling off. She didn’t feel nearly as self-assured as she had at the coffee shop. Now that she was alone and on her way home, pangs of vulnerability throbbed in the pit of her stomach.
Samantha stopped at a red light. Her eyes shifted cautiously around the intersection. Visions of that van speeding out of nowhere and crashing into her came to mind.
Stop terrifying yourself. You are fine.
But as her knees quivered uncontrollably, Samantha knew that she was far from fine. She gripped the steering wheel and let up on the brake, ready to punch the accelerator as soon as the light turned green. The second it did, she sped through the intersection.
Stay calm. You’re good. Just breathe.
Samantha pulled a deep breath in through her
nose and blew it out of her mouth. She contemplated calling Gregory or Ava, just to help calm her nerves. But as she got closer to her house, Samantha decided against it. The last thing she wanted was to appear as though she was starting to unravel.
When she turned down her block, Samantha let up on the accelerator and surveyed the street. There were no unfamiliar cars parked along the curb. No strange vehicles were lurking near her house.
“Good,” she whispered, sitting up straighter in her seat and squaring her shoulders.
She loosened her vise grip on the steering wheel while maneuvering her car into the driveway.
Just when she finally felt her rigid muscles relax, Samantha noticed a huge dent in the middle of the garage door. Splatters of red spray paint were splayed across the top.
“What the...”
She slammed on the brakes and threw the car into Park before jumping out. Her feet felt like cement blocks as she walked in slow motion toward the garage.
Samantha squinted her eyes, struggling to make out the message that had been scrawled across the stark white door.
STOP WHILE YOU’RE AHEAD BITCH!
“Oh no,” she moaned, fighting to steady herself as she stumbled backward.
Fear burned her chest. She peered down the street. No one was in sight.
Bushes rustled against the side of her house. She spun around.
“Hey!” she called out. “Who’s there?”
The only response she got was the sound of shoe soles thumping rapidly against the concrete. She froze, listening as the footsteps scurried away from her.
Anger overpowered fear as Samantha darted toward the pathway leading to her backyard. She flipped on her phone’s flashlight and caught a glimpse of a husky figure dressed in all black. He hopped the fence and landed in the alleyway behind her house. She ran after him, willing her boots to carry her faster so that she could get a good look at the perpetrator. She wouldn’t let him get away this time.
Samantha sprinted through the backyard and slammed into the gate, opening it. She thrust her body forward, watching as the man ran down the alleyway. He dived inside the back seat of a dark sedan waiting at the end of the passage. Before he could close the door, the car peeled off, its screeching tires leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
“You mother—”
Samantha turned and raced back toward the front of the house. She jumped inside her car, her trembling hands fumbling while trying to slide the key in the ignition.
“Come on, come on!” she shouted before finally shoving it inside.
She turned the engine on, put the car in Reverse and floored the accelerator. The car flew out of the driveway. Samantha’s head almost slammed against the window when she hit the curb. She ignored the jolt and sped down the street.
“Where did you go? Where did you go?”
Her fury pushed her forward as she swerved into the alley behind her house. Empty. When she reached the end of it, Samantha slammed on the brakes. Her head swiveled frantically from right to left. Nothing. No cars on the street.
“Dammit!” she yelled, slamming her hands against the steering wheel.
Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks. The seething rage she’d felt after seeing her vandalized garage door suddenly dissolved, replaced by terror.
Samantha looked around the dark, deserted block, realizing just how vulnerable she was in that moment. She nixed the idea of trying to find the vandals and quickly sped off.
Her heart pounded now with fear, not anger. Samantha pressed the talk button on her touch screen and used the voice command to dial Hannah’s number. When the call went straight to voice mail, a lump of anxiety formed in her throat.
“Hannah,” she choked, “it’s Sam. I’m on my way to your house. Someone crashed into my garage door and wrote a hideous message on it. I’ll be there soon.”
She disconnected the call. “Dial Detective Harris.” When his phone went straight to voice mail, too, her chest constricted as if she were in the throes of a full-blown panic attack.
“Gregory, it’s Samantha. My home was vandalized again. This time it was the garage. I’m on my way to Hannah’s house now. Meet me there instead of my place. I’ll text you the address. Please call me as soon as you get this.”
Samantha hung up and sped off into the night, anxious to get to safety as soon as possible.
Chapter Eight
“This is not how our home-cooked dinner was supposed to go down,” Samantha said to Gregory as she propped her legs up on the tan leather couch in his spacious living room. “I was planning on doing the cooking, and you should have been my guest. Not the other way around.”
“Yeah, well, plans change, right?”
Gregory stood at the stove and flipped over two pieces of salmon, then turned around and looked out at Samantha. Moonlight drifted through his bay windows, shining silver beams of light on her. Despite appearing a bit shaken, she still somehow managed to look beautiful.
“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” she asked, glancing around his modern two-bedroom town house.
“I am absolutely positive you can’t help with anything.” He grabbed a container of romaine lettuce out of the refrigerator and tossed it into a strainer. “But thank you for offering.”
Gregory couldn’t seem to shake the guilt he’d been harboring ever since Samantha told him about the damage that was done to her garage. He regretted not being there for her, even if the situation was out of his control.
“Hey, by the way,” she said, pulling a gray afghan off the back of the couch and wrapping it around her shoulders, “how did you get to Hannah’s house so fast? After I texted you her address, it seemed like you were there within twenty minutes or so.”
“I may or may not have done a hundred-plus miles per hour after I heard your voice mail message.”
“Aww, really? You make me feel so special.”
“That’s because you are special.”
Gregory’s heart thumped at the sight of Samantha’s bashful smile.
“You’re also very tough,” he continued. “Considering everything you’ve been through since you started covering Jacob’s case, you’re holding up really well.”
Samantha climbed off the couch and approached the kitchen counter. “Why, thank you. But I have no other choice. I’m on a mission.”
Gregory felt his mouth go dry when she slid onto a stool and crossed her long, slender legs. He turned away and gripped the edge of the sink while running water over the lettuce.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked. “I’ve got pinot noir and chardonnay.”
“A glass of pinot noir would be great.”
He poured two glasses and handed one to Samantha. He took a huge gulp of his before clearing his throat.
“So I was thinking, you probably shouldn’t stay at your house again until I can get a patrolman out there to keep an eye on it. And you.”
“Please,” Samantha retorted. “The patrol car you called to watch over Hannah’s Coffee Shop today never even bothered to show up.”
“Wait, it didn’t?”
“Nope. So what would make you think a cop would show up for me? I’m public enemy number one down at the police station.”
Gregory walked back over to the stove and stirred the mushroom rice pilaf, then took two plates out of the cabinet. “Actually, you’re far from that.”
“Oh? And what would make you think that after the way I’ve been treated?”
“Well, for starters, when I filed complaints against Officers Baxter and Miller over the way they mishandled the vandalism incident at your house, Chief Wentworth promised to personally look into it. He also wrote up both of them.”
Samantha sat up so abruptly that she almost fell off the bar stool. “Hold on. Did the mayor of Gattenburg hire
a new Chief Wentworth? Because you can’t possibly be referring to Collin’s father, Walter Wentworth.”
“As a matter of fact, I am. Chief Walter Wentworth is coming through for you.”
“Wow. I am speechless.”
“And of course we’ll be filing another report over the damage that was done to your garage. I’ll stop by your place in the morning and take pictures.”
“I need to find a stronger way to say thank you. Because at this point those two little words just aren’t enough.”
Samantha’s deep gratitude caused a burning sensation to shoot up the back of his neck. “Those two little words are plenty. Because I know you truly mean it. And you’re welcome,” he uttered, his low tone barely audible. “Like I always tell you, I’m happy to help in whatever way I can.”
Gregory dried and tossed the lettuce into a salad bowl and added sliced cucumbers, green bell peppers and cherry tomatoes. He drizzled Italian dressing over it, then prepared their plates. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes, we shall.” Samantha grabbed their glasses of wine and followed him into the dining room. “Mmm, this looks delicious. The pressure is officially on once I’m able to have you over for dinner.”
“Come on, now. This isn’t a competition. It’s a win for me any time I get to sit down and share a meal with you. You could serve up peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, frozen pizza... Whatever you’d prepare, I would be happy with it.”
“Humble and modest? Those are two qualities I never thought I’d find in a detective.” Samantha laughed.
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m not like all the rest.”
The pair fell silent as they began eating. After several moments of sneaking quick glances at each other, Samantha spoke up.
“Everything tastes just as good as it looks.”
“Thank you. I owe it all to the teachings of Grandma Harris.”
Gregory paused, pushing his rice around the plate with his fork before continuing.
Cold Case True Crime Page 8
