The Friday Edition (A Samantha Church Mystery)

by Ferrendelli, Betta

  Ruth waited a moment before continuing. She wanted Sam to completely absorb her words.

  “When a person begins to realize they have a problem with alcohol then they can begin to address it. Until then, all the conversations in the world won’t change a thing.”

  The two women sat in silence for a long time, their backs resting comfortably against their chairs. It wasn’t until a car muffler backfired on the street below that they stirred. Sam became aware of the constant rush of traffic outside the window.

  “You said you wanted to talk after the meeting,” Ruth said. “I’m sure this wasn’t what you had in mind.”

  Sam shook her head. “Everybody’s been trying to brow beat me into believing that Robin’s death was a suicide.”

  “What do you think happened?” Ruth asked.

  “She was murdered,” Sam said quickly, with an air of authority in her voice.

  Sam looked at Ruth, but her face was empty of emotion.

  “I came because I thought maybe you could help,” Sam said.

  “If I can, honey, you know I will. I’d do anything for that girl.”

  “Did Robin say anything to you lately that would make you think she was in trouble? I know she was here at least a few times a week. The last day we were together, we waited until the afternoon to go Christmas shopping because she said she wanted to make a noon meeting.”

  “What day was that?” Ruth asked.

  “The twenty-third.”

  “Robin wasn’t here that day,” Ruth said quickly.

  “What?” Sam couldn’t help showing her surprise. “Robin said she was coming. She called from her cell phone after the meeting to say she was on her way.”

  “Robin didn’t make the meeting, Sam. She may have called, but not from here.”

  “Are you sure?” Sam asked and felt a surge of anxiety begin to build within her.

  “Of course I am.” Ruth paused briefly. “In fact, I can’t recall the last time Robin’s been to a noon meeting. I’d say it’s been about two months, maybe more.”

  “Two ... two months?” Sam said, her voice perplexed. “Didn’t that send up a red flag that maybe something was wrong with her?”

  “I’m not her mother, Samantha. She didn’t need to check in. Besides, that’s not so unusual. I thought she might be busy with work. She’s missed meetings before.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Sam asked, her anxiety shifting to anger.

  “You’re not her mother either, Samantha.”

  Sam shook her head in disbelief. The jigsaw puzzle was becoming more difficult each time she tried to place a piece.

  “You know what really troubles me, Sam?”

  Sam looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “Robin told me in October that she had gone to a bar for the first time in years.”

  “A bar!?” Sam’s blue eyes darkened and widened at Ruth’s remark.

  “Tim’s Place,” Ruth said.

  “Tim’s Place?” Sam echoed.

  Ruth nodded.

  “What the hell was she doing there?” Sam asked.

  “Meeting a client maybe. I don’t know.”

  “A client?” Sam said. The nagging thought returned that Robin somehow might be involved in an illegal drug smuggling operation.

  “I didn’t think much about it,” Ruth said. “It doesn’t mean much to me, since I go into one almost every day. Robin was a responsible woman, Samantha. She didn’t show for meetings on occasion, but I didn’t think much about it, our people come and go all the time. But if you’re having suspicions about her death, maybe those were some kind of signals. I’m sorry, now I wish I would’ve paid more attention.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Ruth,” Sam said, making a conscious effort to push her anger down. “You’re right. I can’t expect you to constantly be watching out for Robin any more than I can. Where is this Tim’s Place, anyway?”

  “Robin never said. But if it’s the place I think, then it’s off Forty-fourth Avenue, between Sheridan and Wadsworth.”

  Sam wrote down “Tim’s Place” in her reporter’s notebook and circled it.

  Ruth glanced at her watch. “Come on, I’ll walk you outside,” she said, patting Sam on the thigh. “I need a cigarette.”

  They stepped out into a light flurry of snow. Ruth took a deep drag on her cigarette and watched Sam clear snow from the windshield. Sam waved at Ruth as she left the parking lot.

  Ruth finished her cigarette and crushed the butt in the snow with her foot. She went inside and hesitated in the hallway for a moment before heading for the telephone in the kitchen. She had been given the number and was instructed to call should Sam come asking about Robin. She did what was expected of her.

  Ruth did not want to do it. But they had offered her a great deal of money. She thought her convictions, her sense of moral integrity were stronger than that. Still, it surprised her that she had it in her to accept the cash so easily, and to betray someone that she had loved and cared for so long, the way she had Robin.

  It was more money than she could ever acquire in her lifetime. She couldn’t resist. The temptation was too great. She wanted a few nice things. Maybe a new car and new furniture in the living room. She needed clothes and it would be nice to get her hair done more often. Yes, she needed the money. It was the only reason she had agreed.

  Ruth dialed the number. The caller answered.

  “May I speak to Captain, please.”

  ****

  On the way back to the office, Sam kept thinking of Tim’s Place. She had never heard of the bar, but then she didn’t frequent any enough to know one from the other. Bars weren’t for her. She drank at home. Alone. Most of the time she kept the curtains closed. She felt more comfortable that way.

  Before Sam knew it, it was five-thirty. She left the office and stepped out into a light snowfall to go home. She drove out of her way on Wadsworth to 20th Avenue. She turned left on Glen Garry Drive and stopped just before the road bent into the Y.

  From there, she could tell if Jonathan and April were home. She had called again last night, but no one was home, or Jonathan saw that it was her calling and didn’t answer.

  There was just enough light left and Sam saw that Jonathan’s Caprice wasn’t in the driveway. The house was quiet and all the windows were dark. Sam wondered where they were and, for a brief moment, longed to be with them.

  She put her hands together on the steering wheel and rested her forehead against them. She closed her eyes and tried desperately not to let her mind wander. She felt absolutely empty. Everything within her seemed to be suspended. Despite the warm car, she was so cold, she felt numb.

  Morrison greeted her as she opened her apartment door. Happiness consumed her as she scooped him into her arms. The cat purred and she buried her face in Morrison’s furry stomach. After she fed the cat, she checked her answering machine. The message light blinked once.

  Before she listened to the message, she put on Robin’s old brown sweater and felt warmer instantly. She thought of the message from Robin on her machine Christmas Eve.

  “Sammie? Are you there? It’s me. Pick up the phone.”

  It was the last time Sam heard her sister’s voice.

  The caller was Judie Rossetti. She was on a cruise, but took the time to call, wanting nothing but to say hello.

  “Hello, Sam, are you there?”

  There was a pause as if Judie waited for her to pick up, just as Robin had done on Christmas Eve.

  “The cruise is great. The weather’s heavenly and I think I’ve gained five pounds,” Judie went on and Sam could hear the lift in her voice. “Talk to you when I get back.”

  When she heard the soothing richness of Judie’s voice coming from the answering machine, something inside her broke. She began to cry. She sat on the bed and felt Morrison wrap himself around her legs. She struggled to stop the tears from coming, but it was useless. She cried so hard that her shoulders shook.

  Music from a Van
Morrison CD reached into the bedroom. Sam was indifferent to an artist Robin had loved. The afternoon she went to Robin’s condo she took all the Van Morrison CDs Robin owned and began to listen to them. It surprised her how much the music had grown on her. A Sense of Wonder had become her favorite. She lay on the bed. It felt good to rest. She closed her eyes to let the words travel over her.

  Fifteen

  The bottle of Seagram’s on Sam’s kitchen table was nearly empty.

  She had bought it on the way home from work that afternoon and drank a glass the moment she walked in the door. She was about to finish her second glass as she opened a can of cat food. She decided she liked having Morrison around. Her allergies weren’t bothering her and the cat seemed genuinely happy to see her whenever she came home. Morrison was eating when she received a text message. At first glance, the number didn’t register. Then it came to her.

  “Well, well. What does R-E-Y want?” she asked and dialed his number: 555-1618.

  He answered before it finished ringing. “Rey Estrada,” he said a collected tone.

  “It’s Sam Church.”

  “That was fast.”

  She recognized his slightly accented voice and the smile that seemed to go with it. She wondered how often he and Robin had exchanged such conversations.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked, struggling to keep her emotions calm.

  Rey paused slightly before he said, “It’s what I can do for you.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t willing to help,” she returned.

  “That was last week. I’ve had time to think.”

  There was silence and she could hear Rey breathing into the receiver.

  “I can’t get Robin off my mind,” he said.

  “Makes two of us,” Sam said. “I didn’t quite get your last name.”

  Rey said it again.

  “Were you two working together?” Sam asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How long?”

  “About seven, eight months.”

  “Eight months,” Sam said and her heart sank, wondering how long Robin had kept this from her.

  “Does that surprise you?” Rey asked.

  “I had no idea,” she said.

  “Robin was onto something, but I don’t want to say more over the phone.”

  “I’ll meet you,” Sam said. “You name the place and I’ll be there.”

  “Ever been on a ride along with a police officer?” Rey asked.

  “You’re a police officer?”

  “Yes.”

  She decided to make a guess. “A Grandview police officer?”

  “Yes,” Rey said.

  Sam took a deep breath, feeling a small sense of triumph. What she had started to speculate was beginning slowly to fall into place.

  “I’ve never been on a ride along,” she said.

  “They can be a real eye-opener.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “What about day after tomorrow?”

  “Friday?” Sam said moving into her bedroom.

  She put her drink down on the desk to scan her date book. “Perfect,” she said.

  “I’m working graveyard. There’s some things I think you’ll want to see.”

  Sam could not contain only her excitement, but also a growing sense of fear. She found it hard to swallow before she could answer.

  “What time should I be there and where?”

  “You’ll need to sign a release form before you can ride with me. Call Sergeant Albert in the morning. Tell him you’re a reporter and you’ll be doing a ride along.”

  “How will I be guaranteed to ride with you?”

  “It won’t be a problem.” Rey said.

  “I’ll call Sergeant Albert in the morning.”

  “Good, I’ll see you about eleven. You won’t be able to attend our briefing, but wait in the lobby and I’ll come get you. And Sam?”

  “Yes?”

  “Dress warm.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” she said.

  “See you Friday.”

  Rey was about to hang up when she quickly spoke.

  “Rey, what changed your mind?”

  There was a silence as Rey sifted through thoughts.

  “Let’s talk Friday,” he said and hung up without giving her another chance to speak.

  Sam stared at the silent phone for a moment before she hit the talk button. She picked up her drink and went to the kitchen. She thought of meeting Rey Estrada as she poured more whisky into her glass. His change of heart was odd. Though she felt some relief that he was a Grandview police officer, and certain that she wouldn’t be walking into a trap come Friday, she couldn’t help questioning his motives. And she was grateful for the help.

  Sam was seized briefly by fear that he might be the killer. Then she remembered what Ruth had said.

  Trust that still, small voice.

  Sam started to take a drink, but stopped and pursed her lips the moment the liquor touched them. The smell made her stomach turn and she pulled the glass away and stared at the liquid swimming in the bottom of the glass. The acid in the pit of her stomach was bubbling.

  How can I help Robin like this?

  Sam walked to the kitchen sink. She poured the rest of the whisky in her glass and in the bottle down the drain.

  Sixteen

  Sam arrived at the Grandview Police Department before eleven p.m. on Friday and waited in the lobby.

  It was deserted and cast in a semi-darkness that she found soothing. She allowed the quiet to surround her until a door opening on the other side of the lobby broke the stillness. She watched as police officers filed from the room.

  An officer carrying a clipboard approached her, whom she knew wasn’t Rey. He was short, stocky and looked to be about fifty. From the sound of Rey’s voice, Sam had guessed him to be much younger.

  “Samantha Church?” the officer said matter-of-factly looking briefly from the clipboard to Sam.

  She nodded. “It’s Sam.”

  “I’m Sergeant Albert. We spoke briefly yesterday.”

  “Yes,” Sam said again.

  The sergeant nodded without looking at her, keeping his eyes fixed on the clipboard.

  “You’ll be riding with Rey Estrada. He’ll be along shortly,” Sergeant Albert said. “You’ll need to wait here.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said and settled in the chair and watched the sergeant disappear behind another door.

  She carried with her a new reporter’s notebook and a few pens. She seldom went to any interview without extra pens. She had her winter jacket, hat and gloves.

  Moments later the door opened again and four officers filed out. Outside the door, they huddled together in a tight-knit group and held hands. Their heads were bowed. Sam could tell they were talking, but couldn’t hear them. The group separated and three of the officers headed for the main doors and the fourth turned in Sam’s direction.

  As he neared, Sam immediately felt an impression of calm that radiated from the core. He was smiling at her, polite and courteous. Sam guessed him to be six feet, maybe more. He was muscular, but in the right proportions. He wore a long-sleeved uniform that was unbuttoned at the collar. Along with the white T-shirt showing through the opened collar, a crucifix dangled from a gold chain.

  He carried a heavy dark-blue jacket under one arm, a briefcase in one hand and his officer’s hat in the other. He looked to be about twenty-five.

  When he reached her, she got to her feet.

  “You must be Sam?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Glad to meet you, I’m Officer Estrada.” His dark eyes beamed with a velvety softness that pacified her.

  “Good to meet you, officer.”

  “Call me Rey,” he said and put his briefcase on the floor to extend his hand in her direction. His face was fresh and clean shaven, his dark hair cut close to his head. She was surprised at the naturalness he had about meeting her.

  “Ready?” he asked as they sh
ook hands.

  Sam nodded and he pointed toward the lobby doors. When Rey Estrada picked up his briefcase, Sam saw the thick band of gold around his left ring finger.

  The night was clear and cold and the half moon peered down on them as they left the building and crossed the parking lot.

  Rey’s patrol car was running when they reached it. The vehicle was white with blue lettering and the words Grandview Police Department were written in bold blue letters across the car doors. Stenciled in lighter blue letters below were the words, to serve and protect.

  The warm interior made the car inviting, despite the shotgun strapped securely in a holster between the driver’s and passenger’s seat, and the mesh screen that separated the front and back seats. The parking lights were on and the interior panel glowed green. The police radio crackled low with a female dispatcher’s collected but direct voice dispatching a unit to an address where a domestic dispute was in progress.

  “Is that you?” Sam said when Rey got in the car.

  “Nah,” he said and buckled his seat belt. “Different district.”

  Rey keyed the handset to his radio to notify the dispatcher they were leaving.

  “Ten-four,” the dispatcher replied.

  Rey turned to Sam. “Buckle up,” he said.

  “Have you been a police officer long?” she asked, buckling her belt as instructed.

  He glanced briefly at her before returning his attention to the road, but it was long enough for her to notice a glint in his eye.

  “Going on three years,” he said. “Some days I still feel like a rookie. Other times I feel like I’ve done this forever.”

  “How does Grandview compare with other police departments in the metro area?”

  “Golden and Grandview are about the same size population-wise, about twenty-five thousand residents, give or take. The police departments are similar. We have about 46 employees. That’s a combination of officers and civilians. We have a police chief and a couple of commanders.”

  Rey went on. “There are four detectives and patrol officers who make up the rest of the department.”