She felt another hard blow to her midsection. She whimpered and curled inward, holding her stomach. Her assailant moved away. A thick silence slipped through the garage. The pain and the cold were too much. She closed her eyes.
“Please, no … no more,” Sam breathed and coughed. It made her ribcage expand, blinding her with more pain.
“If we have to come again, it won’t be for you, bitch, but for your daughter.”
“No,” she pleaded.
Her attacker rose from the ground. Her eyes were glazed, but she saw him standing over her. There was something over his face making it impossible for her to identify him.
Sam heard the sound of her assailant’s footsteps retreating into the distance. She didn’t have the strength to lift her head to see which direction he headed. She heard a car door open and slam shut. She began to lose consciousness just as she heard the squeak of car tires roll against the slippery surface of the garage.
Before her attacker left, he had dropped something in front of her. Sam felt it hit her lightly on the cheek before it fell to the ground. She tried to reach for it, but didn’t have the strength. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment then closed.
On the ground before her was a business card. On it was a police shield.
Thirty-five
The car slowly entered the underground garage.
It was dusk and he knew by now that any vehicles except the one he had come to find would be gone. He came to find her. If she were still here, he would take her somewhere to get help. He saw Sam’s Mustang and knew she could not be far from it. He slowed his car to a crawl as he neared the Mustang. He parked next to hers and got out of his car scanning the garage. It was empty and cold. Amber garage lights glowed in the distance.
He walked toward the elevator, his shoes tapping lightly against the smooth garage surface. He kept his hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets, his shoulders turned inward.
He stopped when he saw Sam. She was still lying on the ground near the elevator. They had been following her for days, waiting for the right moment. He knew the beating had happened around one. It was almost 4:30 p.m.
He had not witnessed the attack, nor could he bring himself to participate. What he had done to Robin had been more than enough. It had haunted him since. He reached her and bent down beside her. She was on her side, her right arm stretched out above her head, her head resting on her arm. Her left arm was lying lifelessly across her stomach.
He brushed her hair from her forehead. He noticed her lip was red and puffy, but not split and there was no other bruising about her face or shoulders. He knew the remainder of her injuries and bruises would be hidden on her torso.
He saw the business card face down in front of her. He knew what it said and left it where it lay. He found her purse and fumbled through it to find her keys. He collected the business card and dropped it in her purse, knowing she would find it.
He walked to the Mustang and unlocked the passenger door. He returned to her and slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her easily from the ground. Her body felt cold, indicative of the place she had been lying the last few hours.
She did not stir. He managed to get her inside the Mustang, started the car and drove away. As he passed beneath the amber garage lights, the reflection highlighted her swollen lip.
There was only one place he knew he could bring her for help. He couldn’t take her to a hospital emergency room. They would ask questions, and he could stand the chance of being recognized. He arrived at Grandview High School, where the special needs basketball team would be practicing. There were only a few cars in the parking lot when he entered. He saw Todd Matthews’ Toyota Tacoma pickup parked near the main doors.
It was dark now and he worried less about being seen. He checked his watch. The team would be practicing at least another hour. He had time, but did not want to take advantage of it. He slowed the Mustang to a stop next to the truck. Sam was still slumped in the passenger seat. She had not stirred once during the ride.
He left the keys in the ignition and got out of the car. The sun was gone and the air had turned cold. He turned his jacket against the wind.
Streetlights illuminated the area. He walked quickly to the end of the long parking lot and disappeared into the murky light.
He left no trace behind, not even his shadow.
Thirty-six
It was 5:30 p.m. when the team finished basketball practice.
Todd and Brady left the school fifteen minutes later after cleaning the gym. The night air was cold against their skin and Todd pulled the zipper on his sweat jacket up under his neck. Brady watched Todd and went to do the same, but realized his hooded sweat top was a pullover.
“Pull your hood up, bud,” Todd said.
They headed toward the truck, gym bags in hand when Todd looked in the direction of his vehicle and stopped. He squinted at the red Mustang parked next to it.
“That’s Sam’s car,” Brady said quickly. ”We rode in it Saturday when we went to the airport. It’s a cool car.”
“It sure is,” Todd said, but his voice was preoccupied. “But what the heck is she doing out here? It’s freezing.”
“She should’ve come in and watched,” Brady said.
“She’s sitting in the passenger side,” Todd said as he got closer. “And she’s slumped over.”
Todd dropped his gym bag and sprinted toward the car. Brady followed, dropping his bag and running as fast as his pear-shaped body would allow. Todd already had the door open and was kneeling next to Sam when Brady reached the Mustang.
“Is she asleep?” Brady asked.
“No,” Todd replied not looking over his shoulder. “Something happened, but I don’t know what.”
Brady stood behind Todd and watched as he tried to wake Sam by tapping her gently, but firmly on her cheek. She did not respond.
“Sam,” Todd called. “Come on, Sam, wake up.”
He tapped her cheek again, but there was no response.
“Sam? Can you hear me?”
Todd studied Sam’s face. “She’s hurt her lip doing something.”
Todd tapped Sam’s cheek harder. She stirred and moaned lightly. Her hands had been lying lifelessly on her lap until now, but when she moved her right arm against Todd’s touch, she grimaced and her moan became a cry of pain.
Her outburst startled Todd and Brady took several steps back. Todd tapped her cheek again. She opened her eyes and blinked slowly. She couldn’t manage the effort to keep them open. Todd tapped her cheek again.
“Sam, wake up,” he said.
She opened her eyes and looked at Todd, uncertain.
“Sam, it’s Todd. You’re all right.”
“No!” she cried out and tried to push Todd away so she could escape. But the pain stopped her and she fell back against the car seat. “Please, no more,” she whimpered.
Todd frowned. “Sam, it’s Todd. You’re safe now. It’s all right. What happened?”
Sam looked at Todd with recognition. She looked at Brady and then scanned the perimeter of the parking lot, realizing she was a passenger in her own car.
“How’d I get here?” she asked, looking at Todd.
Her blue eyes were round and wide with wonder and fear. Todd thought she looked like a frightened child. He patted her gently on the shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Todd answered. “Did you know we were here at the high school practicing tonight?”
Sam looked at the building.
“That’s Grandview?”
Todd nodded when Sam directed her attention to him.
“Were you practicing tonight?”
Again Todd nodded.
“No, uh, I guess I didn’t know that, did I?” she asked.
When Todd opened the car door he had checked for an odor of alcohol, but didn’t tell Brady about his speculation she might have been drinking. The interior, however, smelled only faintly of Sam’s perfume.
“Sam, do you know how you got her
e?” Todd asked.
She looked at him sheepishly, confused.
“No,” she said meekly. “I don’t know.”
Sam blinked her eyes slowly. Her brain felt fuzzy and she was becoming increasingly aware of a dull ache in her lower back and midsection. She winced.
“What’s the matter?” Todd asked and put his hand on her shoulder.
“My back, everything hurts,” she said.
“Sam, try and remember what happened,” Todd said.
She shivered.
“It’s so cold,” she said.
“Let’s get in my truck,” Todd said and turned his attention to Brady. “Bud, give me a hand getting her out of the car.”
“Sure,” Brady said.
Todd gently pulled Sam’s arm and she cried out in pain. Brady jumped back again.
“What is it?” Todd asked, taking his hand away quickly.
“My arm. I … uh … hurt my arm.”
Todd and Brady managed to slowly move Sam into his truck. She was sandwiched between then when they drove from the parking lot. The move exhausted her so she closed her eyes and rested her head against the back window. Suddenly she opened her eyes wide and stared at Todd as if the events of that afternoon had returned from the shadows.
“I was going to Robin’s office to get her stuff,” she announced in a weary voice.
“On a Sunday?” Todd asked. He turned on to Wadsworth to take Sam home.
“I wanted to go alone, Todd. I didn’t want anyone else to be around. I just didn’t feel like talking to anyone. But I … uh … didn’t make it to her office.”
Todd glanced at her briefly. “What do you mean? What happened?”
Sam remembered her attacker’s warning not to say anything about the beating.
“I didn’t make it,” she said. “I had parked in the underground garage and was waiting for the elevator and I … I remember it didn’t come.”
The pain increased and she swallowed hard to continue.
“I remember I heard another car pull into the garage. And then I remember going to press the elevator button again when someone grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back.”
“What’s going on?” Todd asked.
She was afraid of what they might do to her daughter, but before she could stop herself, she heard herself say, “They’re after me now.”
Sam thought of the text messages she had been receiving. “I’ve been threatened.”
Todd shook his head in disgust. “I should’ve been more insistent that Robin talk to me. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening.”
Sam shook her head. “You could’ve insisted all you wanted, she wouldn’t have told you. She knew what was a stake and she didn’t want to put you, me, anyone she loved in jeopardy.”
Sam looked from Brady who had his head down, staring at his palms to Todd. He was concentrating on the drive, but his eyes were narrow, tiny slits. She knew he was angry, angry with Robin for not telling him, angry for not asking for his help.
Sam went on. “She loved you and didn’t want to see you hurt. Don’t you see that? Do you know how long this has been going on? Months, Todd, months. Probably longer for all I know and I only found about it after her death. And now they’re coming after me and they won’t stop until they get to April.”
They turned onto Sixth Avenue as Sam told them what happened in the garage.
“We’re going to Lutheran,” Todd said and pulled into a convenience store parking lot to turn the truck around.
“No!” she said. “Take me home. I can’t go to the hospital.”
“You might have broken ribs. You could be bleeding internally, Sam. We’re going to the ER.”
“Take me home, please, Todd. Don’t you see? I can’t report this. They threatened me not to saying anything about the beating and to stop the investigation or else they’ll do something to April. I can’t have that happen. My daughter, they said they would harm her …”
Her voice trailed off and she buried her face in her hands. Tears rushed forward. “She’s all I have left. I can’t let anything happen to her. I … I just can’t. If they hurt her, I’ll die, too.”
Brady rested his stubby hand on her back and rubbed gently as she cried. He looked at Todd. The look of pain and anguish was mirrored in their eyes. They stayed in the lot until Sam finished crying and collected herself. When she sat up, she saw herself in the rearview mirror. Her red and swollen eyes matched her puffy lip.
“Take me home, Todd, please. It’s just some bruising. I’ll get over it.”
Reluctantly Todd drove from the parking lot and headed to Sam’s apartment. Sam sighed deeply and closed her eyes. When she laid her head on Brady’s shoulder he straightened up as tall as he could. She was asleep within minutes. One glance at Brady told Todd that he was glad to feel useful.
“You’re doing a good job, Bud,” Todd said.
And when Brady looked at him, Todd grinned and winked.
“Really?” Brady said, sounding surprised.
They drove in silence, and Brady’s face radiated with satisfaction. When Todd parked in front of Sam’s building, he rested his hand gently on her thigh.
“Sam, we’re here. It’s time to wake up.”
Sam opened her eyes with great effort, but kept her head on Brady’s shoulder. Todd knew she was in pain and it bothered him she refused medical attention. He asked again to take her to the hospital, but she refused.
“At least let us help you upstairs,” Todd said.
Sam agreed. Brady and Todd supported her like bookends as they climbed the two flights of stairs.
“I just want to lie on the couch,” she said.
Todd and Brady helped Sam to the sofa.
“Call if you need anything,” Todd said.
“I will,” she said flatly and without emotion.
Brady followed Todd to the door, but stopped before going outside.
“Let’s go, Bud,” he said.
“My dad has a bank account,” Brady said looking from Sam to Todd.
When they offered no reaction to his comment Brady turned and followed Todd.
Moments after they were gone, her telephone rang. Sam struggled to her feet to answer it.
“Hello,” she said weariness evident in her voice.
“Sam? Is that you?”
“It’s me, Judie, how are you?”
“I’m doing well, but you sound awful. Is everything all right?”
There was a moment of silence as Sam grimaced as she struggled to settle in the couch. The pain in her body was all encompassing.
“It hasn’t been one of my better days,” she said and clenched her teeth over the pain. “What’s up?”
“Can you stop by my office in the morning before you go to work?”
“Sure, why?”
“Well, I’ve been going over Robin’s autopsy report,” Judie said.
“What do you mean?” Sam said, forgetting her pain.
“I mean something has bothered me about it from the moment I laid eyes on it,” Judie said. “And I think I finally figured it out.”
“I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
Thirty-seven
Sam was stiff with pain the next morning, but she arrived at the coroner’s office promptly at seven.
Judie Rossetti was at her desk when she knocked.
“Morning, Judie.”
“Good morning,” she said and motioned to the empty chair in front of her desk.
Sam sat down with effort, grimacing with a pain that Judie could not help noticing.
“What happened?” Judie asked. “You look like hell.”
“I feel like it, too,” Sam said, not bothering to hide her discomfort.
“What happened to your lip?”
Sam touched the area lightly with the tip of her finger. “You should see the rest of me. I’m going to turn all kinds of wonderful colors.”
“What happened?”
“First, how was the cruise
?”
Judie’s face softened. “Beautiful,” she said. “We relaxed and had a wonderful time and, of course, we ate more than we should have.”
But her face clouded over again as she briefly scanned the report in front of her. “But the moment we got home yesterday afternoon, I came right down here to check Robin’s autopsy. There was a bruise on the side of Robin’s head. I thought about it the entire time I was gone.”
“A bruise?” Sam said leaning forward.
“It was something I just saw in passing. I came in yesterday because I wanted to see if they had made a note of it during the autopsy, but it wasn’t there.”
“What did you see?” Sam asked, feeling uneasy.
“It was a bruise consistent with someone holding something hard against her temple.”
Sam swallowed hard. “Like what?”
Their eyes locked. “Like a gun,” Judie said.
Sam grunted as she leaned gingerly back against her chair and closed her eyes. Silence hung in the room before Sam told Judie about the beating in the garage.
“You should go to the hospital, Sam.”
“Judie, you know I can’t.”
Judie studied her friend a moment and shook her head. “At least let one of the doctors here take a look at you. Before you leave this morning, all right?
“As long as they don’t ask too many questions, Judie. I can’t risk anything at this point.”
A tear rolled down Sam’s face and she wiped it away with her index finger. “I can’t tell you how this makes me feel whenever I think of the situation Robin had gotten herself in. It was so desperate and she didn’t share it with anyone.”
Judie stared at her numbly. “Now, April? What’re you going to do?”
Sam shrugged her shoulders and winced slightly. “I wish I knew. I can handle anything, but the thought of them hurting April is too much for me. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her too.”
They looked at the document opened before them.
“Is that Robin’s autopsy report?” Sam asked.
Judie nodded and looked at Sam hard.
“Why didn’t you say something the first night you called and gave me the report?” Sam asked.
“I wasn’t ready then,” Judie said. “I needed to confirm my suspicions before I felt at liberty to say anything. Because that’s all it was initially, Sam, just a suspicion.”
The Friday Edition (A Samantha Church Mystery) Page 20
