Murder on Main Street

by Shannon Kaper

  “But?”

  “Well, I think there is a problem.” She hesitated as if she was trying to find the right way to explain something.

  “Out with it - I can’t wait any longer,” I laughed.

  “Joan said that the Sampsons moved here not long after she and Stuart graduated and got married. Mr. Sampson bought the building his jewelry store is in and opened his business. Mrs. Sampson kept to herself. Joan said she doesn’t ever remember meeting Mrs. Sampson or seeing her at events. She thinks they had a child but wasn’t completely sure. That is where things started going downhill,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Joan said to ask Laura, her daughter, about the Sampson’s child. She said Laura would remember whether or not she went to school with any kid of the Sampsons.” She took a deep breath.

  “Why is that strange? Does Laura live around here? Can we ask her?”

  “No, we can’t ask her,” Paula said.

  “Why?”

  “She died a few years ago,” Paula sighed.

  “Oh goodness, how sad. Poor Joan, I had no idea.”

  “Joan talked about Laura as if she were still alive. I didn’t know what else to say, and I felt so bad for her that I told her I would ask around and left it at that. Even if she answered more of my questions, I wouldn’t know if her answers were true or delusions.”

  “I agree, so what now?” I wondered out loud.

  “Back to the drawing board, I guess,” she shrugged.

  “There has to be someone else around that knows the truth,” I said. “It just wouldn’t make sense if everyone else in this town moved here within the last 30 years or so.”

  “But if they all act like Stuart did, then what?” she wondered. Stuart’s reaction was strange, that’s for sure.

  “Sure wish he would talk to us,” I said.

  “Do you think he might have had something to do with the old man dying?” Paula asked out loud.

  Stuart’s reaction to us asking about Mr. Sampson had been on my mind all day. The bartender said Stuart and Mr. Sampson hated each other but he didn’t know why, which means to me that whatever happened between them happened a very long time ago, before most of today’s residents were here.

  “I did actually think about that today; I certainly wouldn’t rule out someone who had a lengthy history of hate toward the victim.” I agreed with her that Stuart, as gently and friendly as he is, should certainly be a suspect if indeed Mr. Sampson was murdered.

  “Any ideas of what we should do next?” Paula asked. I knew she was eager to get this mess cleared up and I also knew she was anxious about the possibility of a Sampson heir and what that would mean for the buildings and our businesses.

  “I think we were on the right track asking the bartenders, so I’ve been expanding on that. Bartenders see and hear things, they know a lot about what goes on in a town - especially a small town like this, right?”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “Who else in a small town like this could possibly have heard stories and would know things?” I asked.

  “There are more bartenders we could talk to, but we already chose the two that have been here the longest,” she shrugged.

  “How about the hotel owners? Or the bed and breakfast owners?” I suggested to Paula.

  “Oh, yes. They talk to everyone. A few of the bed and breakfast owners have been around for a long time.” The excitement returned to her voice.

  “Do you know any of them well enough to visit and strike up a conversation? I don’t think I know any of them. I stayed a couple weeks at the cute little blue hotel toward the end of town when I first moved here, but they have new owners now, so we can strike that one from the list,” I explained.

  “Okay, there are a couple of places on “B” Street and a couple at the end of town toward Gold Hill,” Paula said as she was thinking.

  “Let’s start with the ones on “B” Street. If the stranger was actually turning on Taylor, it’s possible that he was either going to one of those places or to wherever Mr. Sampson lived,” I suggested.

  “That is a great idea. Okay, I will look them up when I get home, then tomorrow I’ll close the shop and go visiting,” she said, as she stood and put her coat and hat on.

  “No, Paula, I don’t want you to close your shop, especially after we had such a great day today. Once Julia and I get the morning baking done, and lunch prepped, I’ll send her over to your shop. That way everything is covered, and neither of us will lose any business.” I hoped she would agree to the plan.

  “But the lunch crowd might be huge and too much for just one person. What if I just go to one place at a time? I can go while it’s quiet in the morning, and again after lunch. If it takes us a day or two, then so be it.” She laid out the alternate plan, which I agreed to.

  We said our good-bye’s, and I watched until she got into her car then locked the door, turned off the main lights, grabbed a warm, sleepy Frosty, and headed upstairs to relax and work on a list of questions for Paula to ask as she went around town talking the bed & breakfast owners.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Chapter 9

  As soon as Julia arrived the next morning, I explained the plan to her. As usual, she was happy to help out because, of course, she wanted to know what was going on just like Paula and I did. When Paula came in for her coffee and muffin, the three of us went over the plan and the list of questions, then Julia and I got busy prepping for lunch. I planned an easy special so we could work fast to get everything ready, so Julia could go cover for Paula.

  “I have to admit, this is all kind of exciting,” Julia said, as she finished putting away the lunch items.

  “I’m just glad you don’t mind helping us,” I smiled. My mind was on getting answers to our list of questions. Primarily, if the Sampson’s did indeed have a son, and what his name is. From there hopefully, we would be able to find out more about their background, and possibly even what the rift between Stuart and the old man was about. Reluctantly we put Stuart on the list of possible suspects, if indeed Mr. Sampson had been murdered.

  “Of course I don’t mind; it’s all so strange and intriguing, but more than anything I want you and Paula to be all right and stay here, in town,” she said cheerfully.

  “Speaking of which, depending on the outcome of this whole debacle, would you have any interest in renting the other half of the upstairs? I would finish fixing it up and also repair the back stairway. It’s small, nothing super exciting…” before I could even finish, Julia ran around the counter and grabbed me in a bear hug shouting that she would love to have the place.

  “Well, just keep in mind it might not happen - it all depends on what kind of will the old man left behind. But I’m glad you are interested,” I told her. It would definitely be nice to have someone around. This old town gets awfully quiet and a little spooky at night.

  “All the more reason to get these questions answered. I’ll head over to Paula’s now, until lunchtime, if that’s okay,” she questioned. I know she wanted to make sure that I was plenty ready for the potential lunch crowd.

  “Go ahead, I’ll be fine here. The early crowd is gone; it will just be stragglers for the next couple of hours.” I walked toward the door with her.

  Once she was on her way, I took a deep breath. “Here we go Frosty. Let’s hope Paula can get some good information today.” I locked the door, put up my “be back in 10 minutes” sign, and ran upstairs to check the wood stove and leave behind my sweatshirt.

  There were a few people standing outside when I unlocked the door, one of which was the younger Mr. Sampson. I felt myself roll my eyes when I saw him standing there. I wanted answers, but I wasn’t ready to deal with his arrogance, nor did I want to be accused of doing anything wrong. My gut told me this was going to be a long afternoon.

  Not long after I finished serving the waiting customers did Mr. Sampson approach the counter.

  “Busy place,” he said.

/>   “Business has been good this week, finally,” I said, without making eye contact with him.

  “It hasn’t been good before this week?” he asked. I couldn’t tell if he was just being polite, if he was interested, or if he was digging for information.

  I debated quickly on how to answer and finally said, “the weather has been rather harsh this winter, everyone in town has felt the effects.”

  “Ah, makes sense. Hard to get here when the roads are bad.”

  I was trying to ignore him as I went about pulling everything out for lunch, but he just stood there like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what. It was rather awkward, and it was beginning to irritate me.

  “Do you need something?” I finally asked.

  “You’re the one that wanted to hear my story, but you seem to be too busy ignoring me to be bothered,” he grumbled sounding a lot like the old man did.

  “I do have a business to run and it is almost lunchtime, so, yes, as a matter of fact, I am busy and about to get busier,” I nodded my head toward the door as a group of people came in followed by Julia.

  “What did he want?” Julia asked, as she joined me behind the counter.

  “I guess he wanted to tell me his story, but he just stood there, so I kept working,” I shrugged.

  Julia laughed, “you’re terrible.”

  “Maybe, but he seriously just stood there after trying to make small talk, and I had things to do. Wouldn’t a normal person say ‘hey, when you have a few minutes let’s talk,’ or something like that?”

  “I would think so. Maybe he was nervous?” she suggested.

  “Why would he be nervous? He’s the one that blew in here accusing me of murder.”

  “Maybe you make him nervous,” she teased.

  “Me? Nope, and don’t you start down that road again, especially trying to put him in the picture,” I said, as I flipped a towel in her direction. Julia seemed to think that I was lonely and that I needed a man in my life. She was always trying to get me to sign up on some Internet dating site or meet one of her friends’ dads. She couldn’t believe that I was enjoying my life just like it is.

  “I don’t understand how you don’t get lonely. You work here all day then go upstairs for the late afternoon and evening. You hardly ever go anywhere on the days this place is closed,” she huffed.

  “Trust me, I’m just fine. Maybe someday you’ll understand,” I winked at her.

  If everything works out and Julia moves into the building with me, I really hope she won’t constantly be on me about dating. I really am happy with the way things are, I’ve built a life I am content with, after leaving behind the hustle and bustle of a corporate career, life in the big city, and a husband who didn’t have time for me. I enjoy the quiet and the freedom. Most of all, I am finally able to do a few things I’ve always wanted to, but never had the time. Baking for people is one of those things.

  An hour past my usual closing time, the last customer of the day left. I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, run upstairs for a few minutes, and then start the end of day clean up. Julia had left to go back to Paula’s shop a couple of hours before, so I was on my own for most of the afternoon. I had no idea if Paula was getting any information or not, but we would be going to dinner later, so hopefully, she would have something to share.

  I finished cleaning up the bakery and getting things ready for the next morning while I waited for Julia to lock up Paula’s shop and bring me the key. As I worked, my mind wandered back to the younger Mr. Sampson and his appearance in the bakery earlier. He did end up buying a muffin and coffee, but I knew that wasn’t why he was there. The entire encounter was odd and left me feeling a bit uneasy.

  I finally decided to just try to put it out of my mind; it wasn’t doing me any good to stew about it. Who knows why people do some of the strange things they do? I was sure Paula would make something sinister out of it - she truly believed that the man was up to no good.

  Right at 5 o’clock Julia came back from Paula’s, gave me the key, and headed home. She said she’d been busy and the candy cases were looking empty, which meant Paula would need to spend time over the next few days replenishing her stock. Thank goodness it was almost Monday and we would both be closed for a couple of days. Even though I had plans for those two days, I would offer to help Paula make her candy, since she was taking time away from the shop to help me figure out who these two Mr. Sampsons are.

  “So, how did it go?” I asked Paula, as soon as I saw her. We opted to try the corner cafe for dinner since they had just expanded their menu and were staying open for dinner Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Everyone is making adjustments, trying to increase revenue. The cafe was nice and quiet, which would give us an opportunity to talk.

  “I scored,” she said with a smile. “I got the low down on the Sampson family, and the long lost son.”

  “Ohh… so there is, or was, a son?” I shrugged out of my coat and slipped into the booth across from Paula.

  “Yes, there was,” she confirmed, before placing her order with the server. “I tried the hotels at the end of town, but they both have managers; the owners aren’t on site, and the managers haven’t been around the area long enough to know anything. Then I started with the Bed and Breakfast places. The first two were strike-outs, but the third one was where I struck gold.”

  “Okay, tell me, tell me. I’ve been waiting all day, it’s driving me crazy.”

  “Where should I start? Do you want to know about the old man and his wife first, or do you want to come back to that?”

  “I think first and foremost, I want to know about the son. The biggest questions I have all revolve around whether or not this creep that showed up in town could possibly be related, and if he is, what will he do with the buildings?”

  “I’d like to hear about this mysterious creep, too,” came a voice from the next booth.

  I couldn’t believe my ears. How in the world did we not notice the younger Mr. Sampson sitting in the booth behind Paula? And how in the world did he know we would be here? This is the second time he inserted himself into our conversations about him.

  He slid from the booth he was sitting in and walked over to ours. Grabbing a chair from one of the tables, he sat at the end of ours.

  “I’m sorry, but did we invite you to join us?” I asked, shocked that he would not only move into our conversation but would move to our table.

  “Didn’t your mother teach you that it isn’t polite to talk about people behind their back? I want to know what the story is about me, so please do continue,” he said, and sat back in the chair, crossing his arms in front of him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Chapter 10

  I watched as he sat there. What was it about this man that irritated me so much? Could it be because he is always showing up where ever I am and accusing me of things? If I wasn’t so concerned about my bakery and Paula’s gift shop, I would wish for his immediate departure. But unfortunately, I needed answers, and the only way it seemed to get them was to play whatever kind of game he wanted to play.

  “Go ahead Paula, tell us what you learned today,” I encouraged her.

  “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” she cleared her throat, “I talked with Barb at B’s B&B, on “B” street,” she laughed.

  “That isn’t confusing at all is it?” I laughed with her.

  “Easy to remember, only one letter. Hey, what street was that B&B on? What was the name of that B&B on “B” street,” the stranger tried to join in the conversation and was immediately shot down with an evil look from Paula. He sat back resuming his defensive position.

  “Anyway,” Paula continued, “Barb said that she and her sister, Bev bought the Bed and Breakfast and moved in there about a year before the Sampson’s moved here. She was happy when she saw them drive up to the house across the street from her. A man, woman, and a small boy climbed out of the truck which was full of household-type items. She watched
as they went across the front porch and unlocked the front door. The house had been empty for a few years and was starting to fall apart; hopefully, they would fix it up a little. She also thought it would also be nice to have someone about her age in the neighborhood. She said she tossed a few left-over muffins into a basket along with some fresh apples and oranges, got Bev, and then waited until they came out of the house so they could go over and introduce themselves.”

  “In case you haven’t figure it out, I was the little boy,” the stranger barked at us.

  “So, what year was that?” I asked.

  “Barb said they bought the B&B in 1963. They were each given a small inheritance when their parents died and decided to put their money together and buy a business.”

  “Smart move on their part,” I said with a nod.

  Paula went on to tell the rest of the story while we ate our dinner. When the sisters went to introduce themselves to their new neighbors, they were given a rather cold shoulder. Mr. Sampson directed Mrs. Sampson to take the boy and go inside. He wouldn’t accept the basket of fruit and muffins and left the sisters standing in the driveway when he went in and shut the door.

  Over the first few months, the sisters repeatedly tried to befriend the new neighbors. They approached Mr. Sampson several times, with each attempt ending in the same cold shoulder result. He seemed to be home most of the time the first year leaving the sisters very little chance to talk to Mrs. Sampson. About a year after they moved in, Mr. Sampson opened the jewelry store and was gone from early morning until dinnertime leaving the sisters plenty of time to befriend Mrs. Sampson.

  Each time they went across the street, there was never any answer. They could often hear the young boy playing or crying, sometimes saw the curtain move, but Mrs. Sampson never came to the door. After many attempts, the sisters finally gave up trying to befriend the couple, but they never gave up watching the house across the street.

  When the young boy was old enough for school, he started going with his father every morning and didn’t return until evening when the jewelry store closed. The sisters hoped they would see Mrs. Sampson, but that never happened. They began to wonder if she was even alive anymore.