Saints & Strangers (A Sam Warren Mystery)

by Richelle Elberg

  He handed me the check and said into the mike, “Let’s all show Sam our appreciation.” He backed away and clapped his hands together; the noise grew loud as the crowd joined in. Jeeeesus. My cheeks flushed; no question they were now the same color as my dress. I waved and stepped quickly back. Turk patted my shoulder and Dennis mussed my hair.

  “Hey!” I said and tried to smooth it down. But the crowd kept applauding and I just couldn’t wipe the grin off my face.

  The Chief and the other officers took questions from the press for about twenty minutes. Finally, the reporters cleared out, rushing off to file their stories and chase the next ambulance.

  A number of citizens came up to me and shook my hand and thanked me. It was surreal. Alan Perkins came over to me and said, “Thank you for helping to find the man that killed my wife.” We both teared up. I knew only too well what Anna Fuller had suffered. Her widower didn’t need to know the details.

  Finally, the crowd thinned out and I noticed Liz and Charles Smit standing off to the side. Shit.

  They approached and Charles stuck out his hand. “May I?”

  I shook his hand, unsure of what to say.

  “I want you to know, Liz and I understand why you may have had some…suspicions… about me and my congregants. Sharon.” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then Smit frowned. “I always knew Aaron was enthusiastic about the ministry, but I never dreamed…” He raised his eyes. “You must understand that I would never condone such…Our doctrine is…conservative, but…” For the first time in his life, Charles Smit couldn’t quite find the right words.

  I nodded. “It’s all right. I understand.” I would never understand Smit’s doctrine, but I did believe that his horror over Aaron Stevens’ actions was genuine.

  Liz extended her hand. “I am sincerely so grateful. To think I was working side-by-side with that man for all this time. Oh, it’s horrifying.” She shook my hand firmly. “Thank you.”

  I looked her in the eye. “You’re very welcome.”

  She nodded and clutched Charles’ arm and they walked away. Liz Smit wasn’t so bad after all, I decided, but her husband was still creepy.

  I turned around, scanning the parking area for Dennis and Turk. I found them over by the doors, mingling with about a dozen people, including Judge Barbie. I laughed. She got points for persistence if nothing else.

  I yelled to Dennis and waved my goodbyes. I was ready to go home and change out of my ridiculous shoes. And then Pepper and I would take a ride to the bank. Hot dog!

  Chapter 45

  The sun had just set; a few wisps of pink and mauve remained on the horizon, but soon it would be black outside my windows. I was eating a bowl of Trix next to the fire. Another Duralog fire. Pepper was curled up on my lap and, had it been just three weeks earlier, I would have been perfectly content. But now things were different.

  I hadn’t heard any more from Milo, but Grady had come by earlier to check on me and to tell me that Milo was expected back the next day. Grady was still angry, but he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell me much.

  “Kid fucked up, Sam. That’s all I know right now,” he said bitterly. “Thank God Laura was already on the mend; this might have done her in.”

  We talked for a few minutes, but it was awkward and he didn’t stay long.

  “Tell Laura I’ll come for a visit in a day or two,” I called after him. He threw his arm in the air in response without a backward glance as he walked down my driveway to his truck.

  Taylor Ave was blissfully free of both reporters and cops. It was really over, at least as far as I was concerned. Dennis and Turk would be busy with the evidence, probably for weeks, but I didn’t need to even think about Aaron Stevens any more. I tried not to, but that left my mind free to think way too much about Milo Cooke. I raised my bowl to my lips, drank the sweet remains of the milk and set the empty bowl down on the floor. I stared into the flames, stroking Pepper.

  I must have fallen asleep. When I heard the knock at my door, I opened my eyes and blinked in the dark room. My Duralog was half gone. Mrs. Trimble? She doesn’t usually knock. I turned on the lights, went to the front door and squinted through the peephole. Meredith Bradley was on my front stoop. Shit.

  I rushed back to the living room and grabbed my phone. I sent Dennis a text; I really hoped he wasn’t celebrating somewhere with Barbie. Or Eileen. For good measure, I copied Turk and the Chief. I padded silently back to the door and stood behind it.

  Bradley knocked again.

  I peered out. She was wearing a heavy winter coat with the hood up. Her nose and eyes were red. Her hands were in her pockets.

  I opened the door an inch with my foot wedged against the bottom.

  “Hello,” she said. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

  “The police have been trying to find you,” I said.

  “I know.”

  I waited, but she said nothing more.

  “Why do you want to talk to me?”

  She shivered.

  I wanted to keep her there, but what was under that coat? In her pockets? She was a small woman, but…

  “Just a minute,” I said and closed the door. I ran to my desk, pulled out my nine and checked the cartridge.

  I went back to the door. She was still huddled there. I opened it a few inches again. “Before I let you in, you need to know that I’m armed. If you’re here on some kind of revenge mission…”

  She gave me a sad smile. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  About three minutes had gone by. How soon would backup arrive? “Take off your coat and lay it on the ground.”

  She did as I asked.

  “Raise your arms and turn slowly around.”

  She was wearing a brown turtleneck with jeans and loafers. The sweater wasn’t snug, but I didn’t see any bulges.

  Sighing, I opened the door, my nine at my side.

  She walked past me into the living room.

  “Have a seat,” I said, waving my nine toward the couch. I sat down in my chair, the gun resting on my lap and my finger on the trigger.

  “This is nice,” she said, gazing around. For crying out loud, was I supposed to offer tea now?

  “What do you want, Meredith?”

  Staring at the fire, she asked, “Is Zeke all right?”

  “I…uh…I mean, Social Services is involved. I’m sure they’re taking proper care of him, but…he’s probably pretty scared.”

  She nodded and looked back at me. “I’ve never left him before. Ever.”

  I stared back at her. Her short greying hair was limp and her face was wan.

  “So, why did you? Leave him.”

  “I saw the police at Aaron’s house. After I got home Saturday night. I was so happy, you know?”

  I waited.

  “I put on high heels and a new nightie under my long coat and drove over to his house.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” She wiped her face.

  Where was this going? Five or six minutes had now passed; a patrol car couldn’t be too far away. I hoped.

  “He was using you, Meredith. You and Zeke.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “Maybe I always knew. But for five whole months he made me feel like…” She shook her head. “Ever since he was born, all I’ve ever done is take care of Zeke. Find him the best tutors, take him to therapy. Work with him every night after working all day. For the first time in my life, I had something that was just for me. Now it’s gone and… it’s worse than before.” She looked at me. “Now I know what I was missing.”

  I heard tires skidding on my driveway.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  I heard running out front and then footsteps pounded up the deck stairs. I went to the slider, never taking my eye off her, and pulled the broom handle out.

  “I’m really very sorry.”

  I opened the door and two uniforms aimed their weapons at her.

  I lay awake in bed for a long
time after the police took Bradley away. I knew exactly how she felt.

  Chapter 46

  The air was cold but the sky was clear and my breath clouded my sunglasses as I huffed down the beach as fast as my aching ribs would allow. I had on my new favorite hat with Dad’s hoodie and my black leggings. It felt good to work my muscles and empty my mind and absorb the beauty of the sea. I’d woken in a dark mood, but the walk helped.

  A bunch of gulls were swooping and diving near my house; their shrill cries were harsh in the early morning calm. I saw one land and then take off with a crab in its mouth. A few seconds later the gull dropped the poor thing and the entire flock dove, vying to peck through the crab’s cracked shell. Compared to him, I was having a great day.

  I walked up onto my deck and leaned against the railing to stretch my calves. A few seconds later Mrs. Trimble appeared on the stairs.

  “Good morning, Sam,” she said, her voice as screechy as ever. “I made you a coffee cake. It’s probably not as good as the chocolate cake I threw on that reporter but…”

  I laughed. “Morning, Mrs. Trimble. I’ll have to start running more if you keep bringing me cake.”

  She set the pastry down on my picnic table. “So, I saw the cops were here again last night…”

  Ahh. The real reason for her visit.

  “Yeah, it was nothing major. Meredith Bradley turned up; I just talked to her until the police came. She was seeing Aaron Stevens. She’s an important witness.”

  “I see.” She stood there looking at me. “Haven’t seen Milo in a few days.”

  Me either. “He’s been in Boston,” I said.

  “Hmm.”

  I didn’t elaborate. I walked over to the picnic table and smelled the coffee cake.

  “This smells great—”

  “Speak of the devil,” Mrs. Trimble said.

  I looked up. Milo was coming through my slider.

  I felt a thrill.

  “Hi,” he said. He had on jeans and a black turtleneck and his brown waves lay softly around the collar. Yum.

  “Hi.” I pulled off my hat and ran my fingers through my hair.

  “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone.” Mrs. Trimble hobbled down my stairs.

  “Thanks again for the coffee cake,” I called. She lifted a hand and waved and disappeared into her house.

  Milo walked up to me and put his arms around me. “God, you feel good,” he said.

  I inhaled sharply. “My ribs,” I said.

  He loosened his grip. “Oh, sorry, Sam. Dad told me.” He looked down into my eyes with concern.

  I pulled away from him and picked up the coffee cake. “Let’s go inside,” I said.

  He followed me into the kitchen and put coffee in the maker. I sliced the coffee cake and put two portions on plates and sat down at the breakfast bar. A few minutes passed, during which I studied his back. And his butt. Just a little. He poured the coffee, stirred in cream and sugar and sat down beside me.

  I waited.

  “I guess you had your moment in the sun. I’m really sorry I missed it, Sam.” He looked at me and put his hand on mine. “I’m really proud of you.”

  I smiled a little. “Thanks. So, are you going to explain what’s going on?”

  He sighed and took a bite of coffee cake. “This is good.”

  “Milo!”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry.” He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

  “Why’s your dad so pissed off?”

  “Phht.” Milo waved his hand like he was shooing a fly. “He’s mad because I paid mom’s hospital bills. I thought they’d be grateful, but Dad was insulted. Thinks I’m trying to show him up. It doesn’t have anything to do with my…situation. Not really.”

  “Sooo. What is your situation? I need to know what’s going on Milo.”

  “I know. Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Okay.”

  I waited.

  “So, when I was at Harvard, I was in this investing club.”

  I knew it.

  “Met a lot of guys. We were all so cocky.” He looked at me. “I was gonna go to Wall Street and make millions. I was never gonna look back at this little shit town or my Dad the lobsterman. I was an ass. We were all asses.

  “So, this one guy, Phil; he was a couple of years older than me. He got a job at Goldman Sachs. I had an investment account; I’d saved up a few thousand dollars and was starting to trade some. I was doing all right; the first year I turned three thousand into seven thousand. I thought I was the shit.

  “Anyways, one night a bunch of us are out and Phil shows up; he’s in town for some Harvard alumni thing. We had a few drinks and all night he’s telling me how much money he’s making; how great life in New York is. And he gives me a few stock tips. ‘Sure winners’ he says. So I bought some, and about three weeks later one of them announces a buyout. I tripled my money. I called him up and thanked him, and from then on we stayed in touch. For about a year, he’d call me every so often and give me his latest hot tip. I made a bunch of money.”

  “How mu—”

  “A bunch. Just listen. So one day I’m leaving campus and I run into this other friend of ours and he says, ‘Did you hear about Phil? He got busted for insider trading.’” Milo sighed and looked at me. “I was shitting myself. Turns out I had been trading on insider information; I just didn’t know it. By this time I had more than two hundred grand in my trading account—that’s after paying the taxes, which I always did.”

  Holy shit. “Two hundred grand?”

  “Yeah. I stopped trading after that and kept my head low. I finished out the semester and that’s when I decided I needed a break. That’s when I came home.”

  “So, you really didn’t know?”

  “I really didn’t, Sam. But I probably should have. There were just too many home runs…but I was high on the buzz. Now DOJ wants me to pay back the money I made off the insider trades and they want me to testify against Phil. He’s looking at five years at least. Maybe ten.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “Are you going to do it?”

  “Yeah, I am. At first I felt bad, but you know what? My only real crime was being stupid. Phil knew exactly what he was doing and he pulled me into it.” He turned to me. “The trial’s in New York in a couple of months. I’ll probably have to be there for a few days.”

  “How much do you have to pay back?”

  “Just over a hundred.”

  “Thousand?”

  “Yeah.”

  Wow. And I was excited about the four thousand dollars in reward money I had left. We ate some coffee cake.

  “Where do I fit in?” I asked.

  He blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you want to go out with me?”

  He laughed. “Because I like you, Sam. A lot.”

  “Are you still trading stocks?”

  “Here and—” He stopped and stared at me. “Do you think I want to use you?”

  I looked down at my plate.

  “Sam.” He took my hand again. “Look, all that shit’s in the past. It’s like I told you the other night. I’m not that person. Not anymore. I’m going to pay my dues and testify and move on.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I really hope you’ll give me a chance.”

  I leaned back and looked him square in the eye. Finally I nodded. “Okay.”

  Chapter 47

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” said Milo. He leaned down and kissed me softly.

  I smiled up at him. “I’ve heard that before.”

  “Ouch. Guess I deserve that.”

  “Go on, have a nice dinner. Tell Laura and Grady I said hello.” I closed the door behind Milo, still smiling.

  I put some hot water on to boil and walked over to my desk. Time to pack up the Pilgrim Slayer case. I pulled the photos and documents down from my bulletin board and sorted them into various files. When I heard the water boiling, I went back into the kitchen and poured some into a mug and added a teabag. Blowing
into the steam, I gazed out the window.

  Injun Bob was heaving himself out of his minivan. Stunned, and more than a little wary, I watched him plod up my driveway. He raised his eyes to mine and caught my gaze, then nodded. I went to the door.

  When I opened it, we looked at each other for a few long seconds. He nodded again, as if confirming something to himself. Finally, he broke the silence. “You needn’t be frightened of me.”

  I flushed and smiled. “I’m not frightened. Do I look frightened? Why would I be frightened of you?” I was, in fact, a little frightened.

  “May I come in?” he asked.

  “I—uh, sure.” I opened the door and pressed myself against the wall so that he could pass. “Just have a seat in the living room,” I said. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Tea would be nice.”

  I poured another mug of hot water. “Herbal or regular?” I called from the kitchen.

  “Herbal, please.”

  I grabbed the teabag and sugar bowl and placed everything on the breakfast bar. “Here you go,” I said. He was standing at the door looking out at the ocean. His khaki pants were baggy over hiking boots; on top he wore an enormous red hoodie. The signature beret was perched over his long grey-black hair.

  Slowly, he turned and joined me at the breakfast bar. He eased himself into one of the stools and studied my face. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?”

  “Well, yes. I was wondering…What should I call you?” I didn’t want to let ‘Injun Bob’ slip; he might not appreciate the nickname I’d assigned.

  “Rob. Call me Rob. I came because I need to share with you what I’ve learned since our first meeting.”

  I raised my eyebrows and took a sip of tea.

  “In short, I believe you to be a member of my soul family.” He placed his tea on the counter and gave me an intense look. “I’ve been getting messages, signals if you will, ever since our first meeting.”

  I opened my eyes wide and then laughed, but he held up a hand and said, “Hear me out.”