by Cindy Bell
“I'm not sure. But I just feel like we need to try.” Samantha frowned. She fidgeted with the napkin that had been under her cup.
“I think you feel a little guilty,” Eddy suggested. He looked at her with a hesitant smile. “It's not your fault, Samantha. You know that, don't you?”
“Why would she feel guilty?” Walt asked. He looked very confused as he carefully washed the tea cups.
“Because, she didn't hear or see anything. Samantha, I'm sure the murder took place before you ever even woke up this morning. How could you know?” He met her eyes directly. “There was nothing that you could have done.”
Samantha nodded a little, but she didn't really agree. If she had slept with her window open she might have heard screams or an argument. If she had gotten up to use the bathroom, she might have noticed someone running past her window. Instead, she had been oblivious to the fact that someone was being murdered just outside. It seemed impossible to her that she had gone about her morning, making tea, walking down to the water, without ever sensing that something wasn't right.
“There was nothing you could have done,” Walt repeated Eddy's words. “What happened wasn't good, but you know, it seems like Vince made his own bed.”
“What does that mean?” Samantha asked. She looked at Walt intently.
“I mean, he was probably involved in drug dealing. That's not exactly good for your health.” Walt sat back down at the table.
“Walt, I didn't expect you to be like that.” Samantha frowned with distaste.
“Like what? Statistically speaking those that engage in criminal behavior run a much higher chance of meeting an untimely death. It's just math.” He looked up at Samantha with a puzzled expression. “Did I say something upsetting?”
“I think that Samantha just means that Vince is not a statistic, he's someone we all knew,” Eddy explained.
“Samantha, I didn't mean to offend you.” Walt looked at her with concern.
“You didn't, Walt, it's okay. I think this entire experience is catching up with me.” She stood up from the table. “I'm going to head home. It's been a long morning for me,” Samantha muttered. She was still annoyed with Walt. He was brilliant, but sometimes his intelligence seemed to limit his empathy. Eddy watched as she walked out of the villa. Samantha's shoulders were slumped with the weight of the burden that she was carrying.
As Samantha walked towards her villa, she noticed some commotion near the office. There was a police car, as well as two officers talking to the gardener. Samantha stared as the two officers stepped closer to the gardener. Simon was a gentle giant, well over six foot and with a forehead as broad as a billboard. He didn't talk much, but he worked hard at keeping the grounds tended. She couldn't imagine what business the officers would have with him.
“If you're going to stare, you might as well get closer.” Eddy stepped up from just behind her.
“Eddy, what have I told you about sneaking up on me?” Samantha shot him an annoyed look.
“It's not my fault that your observational skills have become rusty over the years.” Eddy smirked.
“Oh trust me, there's nothing rusty about my observational skills. But I've become accustomed to people not popping up out of nowhere.” She looked back at the officers in time to see them handcuffing Simon. “What are they doing?”
“Looks like they have a suspect in mind,” Eddy's voice grew grim. He didn't look any more convinced than Samantha was. “Maybe, we should find out before they drive off.”
“That's ridiculous!” Samantha frowned as she watched the officers restrain Simon. “Simon would never hurt anyone. You're right, let's go see what's going on.”
Samantha and Eddy walked towards the police officers. Simon was barely holding back tears. “But I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything,” he kept repeating. Samantha could hear the tears in his voice. Her heart ached for him as she knew that he had to be terrified. “I don't know how it got in there, honestly I don't.”
“We'll figure that out when we get downtown,” the officer said sternly. He steered Simon towards the police car. The problem was he was quite large and his hands were cuffed so it was difficult to get him into the backseat of the patrol car.
“What's the meaning of this?” Samantha demanded. She walked right up to the officers.
“Samantha,” Eddy chastised. But it was too late. The officers had just managed to get Simon into the backseat. They both turned to face Samantha with irritated expressions.
“Is there a problem?” the taller officer asked.
“Why are you taking this man into custody?” Samantha demanded. Her tone was verging on disrespectful.
“He's in custody because he's suspected of murder.” The officer looked between Eddy and Samantha. His demeanor shifted from annoyed to stern. “Is there something that you know, that we don't?”
“Just that Simon is not a killer,” Samantha said with clear confidence. She had a tendency to be very protective. She had seen a lot of injustice during her time as a crime journalist. Just because a person was convicted of a crime, that didn't always mean that they were guilty of that crime. She didn't want to see Simon go through that, too. Although, she didn't like to cross the police, she would if she thought someone was being wrongfully accused.
“Oh? How do you know that?” The officer took a step closer to Samantha.
“I just do. He's a good man. He keeps to himself.” Samantha straightened her shoulders and planted her feet firmly. She was determined not to be intimidated.
“So, he puts on a good show and remains isolated?” The officer shook his head. “Classic psychopathic behavior.”
“Someone's been watching too many crime shows,” Eddy muttered under his breath. He could feel the tension building between the officer and Samantha. He knew that it was only a matter of time before she blew and that could lead to her being in handcuffs. “Look, what possible proof could you have that Simon is the killer?”
“Although, you are not someone I have to prove anything to, if you must know, we found the murder weapon in his toolbox.” The officer gestured to an open metal toolbox on the ground beside him. “Now, do you have anything else that you would like to add?”
Samantha watched as the other officer bagged the bloody screwdriver for evidence. Her stomach flipped anxiously. If it was true that Simon had the murder weapon, the case against him would be a slam dunk. She wondered if it was possible that she could have been so off base about him.
“So, he was just walking around with the murder weapon in his toolbox?” Eddy said with disbelief. “That doesn't make much sense to me.”
“Murder doesn't make much sense to me.” The officer narrowed his eyes. “So, I don't expect killers to make sense either.”
“Good point,” Eddy agreed. He glanced over at Samantha. She was still staring at the bagged murder weapon.
“Here is my card.” The officer handed over a business card to each of them. “If either of you think of anything that you feel has something to do with this case, please feel free to call.”
Samantha clutched the card tightly. She nodded as the officer walked over to the car.
“Strange case,” Eddy's quiet words trailed after the car as it drove out of Sage Gardens.
“I just find it very hard to believe, Eddy. Of all the people I have met since I have moved to Sage Gardens, Simon would be one of the last that I would consider dangerous.”
“I have to say he's never struck me as someone to watch out for, even with his size. He's always been friendly enough to me,” Eddy retorted with a puzzled frown. “But with the murder weapon in his toolbox, it's hard to question the arrest.”
“Why would he hide it in his toolbox?” Samantha questioned. “Wouldn’t he just get rid of it?”
“Maybe he panicked,” Eddy said. “Didn’t think it through.”
“I guess it’s possible,” Samantha said but she wasn’t convinced.
“Let me walk you back to your villa.�
�� Eddy smiled sympathetically at her. “I want to make sure you get some rest.”
“How could I rest knowing that Simon has been arrested for something that he didn't do?” She shook her head. “No, I won't be resting. Not until Simon is out of jail.”
“I think you're taking this far too seriously, Samantha. It's not as if they're going to hang him by his toes and torture him. They'll question him. With the murder weapon in his possession they might book him, but if he’s innocent they’ll uncover the truth. Simon will be fine.” Eddy began to lead her back towards her villa.
“Will he, Eddy?” Samantha asked. “Have you ever thought about how traumatic it is for a person to be wrongly accused and held against their will?”
“It's not exactly the same thing as being taken hostage,” Eddy pointed out in a grim tone. They paused outside Samantha's villa.
“Isn't it? I think it's exactly like it. If two armed men walked up to me, tied my hands and threw me in the backseat of their car, wouldn't that be an abduction?” She met his eyes with growing irritation. “How can you not see that?”
“I don't see that because the two men that have taken Simon into custody are not criminals, they are well trained officers of the law. They are sanctioned by the government of this country to be able to make decisions in order to keep the citizens of this country safe. Really, Samantha, sometimes I wonder if you're hoping for complete anarchy.” He frowned and met her eyes with his own flashing gaze. “Get some rest.”
With that he spun on his heel and stomped away. Samantha stared after him, just as flustered. Whenever she and Eddy discussed politics or police it did not go well. Samantha bit her tongue to keep from saying a few more words about what she thought of his opinion. She knew better. Once Eddy was done with a conversation he was done.
Chapter 4
Once inside her villa Samantha hoped to be able to relax. But she felt uneasy. The tea cup she had left behind when the police arrived was still waiting for her. She picked it up and dumped the contents into the sink. She had planned to drive into town for some groceries. She was going to stop off in a little thrift shop to look for something to brighten up the hallway. It was hard to simply continue with her day after such a jarring experience. She knew she couldn't go shopping, her mind was filled with blood and drugs. She wasn't sure if she would be able to rest. All she could think about was Simon and how scared he probably was.
Samantha was not someone that assumed everyone was innocent. In fact more than once she had proven someone was guilty of something. She often felt a bit of frustration towards the people around a perpetrator who acted as if he or she was innocent even though the evidence obviously indicated otherwise. However, when it came to Simon there was no question in her mind. She didn't think he had anything to do with the murder. The only problem was the pesky issue of the murder weapon being found in Simon's toolbox. It struck Samantha as a little strange that he even had a screwdriver, but she assumed some of the tools he used, such as the leaf blower, might require it for repair, or for when he hung up flower pots for the residents. So, had someone taken it out of his toolbox? Why would someone go to the trouble of breaking into the garden shed just to get a screwdriver?
Nothing about the murder made sense, right down to the body being found in the tall grass. Why had the murderer left his body in such an easy place to find? It might have taken longer if the police weren't looking for the drugs, but it still wasn't a place to leave a dead body. It led her to think that the crime might have been one of passion. Perhaps the murderer hadn't planned anything and had instead just become enraged. Maybe in a panic the murderer had simply abandoned Vince's body. If that were the case then hopefully it wouldn't take long to figure out who had actually committed the crime.
Samantha shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts and began preparing a late lunch. She needed a chance to clear her mind, and sleep wasn't going to do that. On a whim she decided to call her friend, Jo. She could fill her in on the crime that had taken place, and have a sounding board for her frustrations with Eddy. When she called Jo, she almost didn't expect her to answer. Although Samantha considered Jo a friend, the jury was still out on Jo's opinion about her. Jo was a hard woman to get to know, and a harder woman to befriend. To Samantha's surprise, she did answer.
“Hi Sam. I was wondering when you would get around to calling me.”
“What do you mean?” Samantha asked.
“I heard about the murder. I knew you'd be calling to fill me in sooner or later.” She laughed a little. Samantha was relieved to hear that she was in a fairly good mood.
“I was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch.” Samantha gripped the phone tensely. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake by having Jo over. Although Samantha had a lot of respect for the woman, her friends, Walt and Eddy, didn't always share the same opinion. They were more interested in Jo's past than the present.
“I'd love to. I'll bring some wine!” Jo hung up before Samantha could argue about the wine. The truth was Samantha could really use a glass. She put together a salad to go along with some chicken for lunch. Within a few minutes Jo knocked on the door.
“Come on in!” Samantha called. She carried the food from the kitchen to the dining room table. Jo opened the door and stepped inside. Samantha was always a little dazzled by the sight of Jo. While Samantha had more of a simple beauty, Jo's looks were quite exotic. Between her olive skin and her thick, black hair she looked as if she could have walked right off a runway, even though she was in her sixties just like Samantha was. While Samantha's copper-red hair had a smattering of gray in it, Jo's was pure black. While Samantha's bright green eyes were crinkled by smile lines, Jo's face still had a youthful tautness to it. The woman was in immaculate shape as well. Despite her younger looks, it only took one look into her dark, haunted eyes to make her seem much older.
“Hi Sam.” Jo placed the wine on the table and smiled at Samantha. “So, are you ready to give me the details? Did you solve the crime yet?”
“Not even close,” Samantha said shaking her head. She walked back into the kitchen to get two wine glasses. When she returned, Jo had already opened the wine. She poured glasses for both of them. “The only thing I know for sure is that the police have arrested the wrong man.”
“Oh really?” Jo raised an eyebrow. “Are you championing the underdog, yet again?”
Samantha took a sip of her wine. “I guess you could say that. But I know I'm right. They arrested the gardener, Simon.”
“He seems harmless.” Jo frowned and sipped her own wine. “Why did they arrest him?”
“He had the murder weapon.” Samantha cringed.
“Well, that's a pretty good reason. But it certainly doesn't make him guilty. How did you find out why they arrested him?” Jo eyed her curiously.
“It's a very long story.” Samantha sighed and closed her eyes a moment. “Have some lunch.”
Jo began eating her salad. She was still watching Samantha when Samantha opened her eyes again.
“So?” Jo prompted.
“So, I found this backpack filled with drugs…” Samantha began.
“Wait, what?” Jo set down her fork. “What kind of drugs?”
“Cocaine, I think. I don't know for sure because before I could turn it over to the police it disappeared. When I left it outside because the bag was wet someone took it.” Samantha took a bite of her salad.
“Samantha, this isn't good. You shouldn't be involved in any of this.” Jo frowned. Her voice was heavy with concern. “Does anyone else know that it was you that found the backpack?”
“Only the police and Walt. I suppose it might have gotten around Sage Gardens, but I'm not sure. I think the news of the murder probably swept away any rumors about a backpack. Oh, and Eddy, of course,” she added as an afterthought.
“Of course.” Jo's eyes narrowed a bit. “Well, I think you should be very careful about who you tell, Samantha. You really should stay out of this. Understand?
” She met Samantha's eyes across their glasses of wine.
“Yes, I do. But why?” Samantha frowned.
“Trust me, Samantha, getting involved would be the worst thing that you could do now.” She took the last bite of her salad. “Be glad that someone took the backpack.”
“But, what about Simon?” Samantha asked. “Am I supposed to just let him rot in jail?”
“He wouldn't be the first, and he won't be the last, besides I’m sure the police will discover the truth.” Jo finished her wine. “This is not a crusade you should make your own, Samantha. It’s too dangerous when drugs are involved. Don't say I didn't warn you. Thanks for lunch.”
She stood up from the table. Samantha looked up at her with a mixture of confusion and a hint of anger. She had expected Jo of all people to understand. Jail was a horrible place for an innocent person. But then Jo hadn't exactly been innocent. She had been an infamous cat burglar that had given the police the run around for many years. Maybe that was why she didn't feel sympathy for Simon.
“You're welcome,” Samantha finally spoke very quietly. She didn't stand up from the table. She didn't show Jo to the door. She felt as if all of the wind had faded from her sails.
“Remember what I said, Sam,” Jo said. She stepped out the door and closed it behind her.
Alone once more Samantha wondered if her friends were right. Should she stay out of it? Her stubborn nature told her not to. But her stubborn nature had gotten her into plenty of messes before. Samantha finished her lunch and then sprawled out on the couch. She decided to take Eddy's advice and at least try to rest a little. She yawned as she stretched out. When she closed her eyes she saw an image of the backpack floating in the water.
Chapter 5
