Murder in Lancashire

by Jane T O'Brien

  The door flew open. “What are you doing in here Sophia? There are people waiting to offer condolences and you are hiding in the women's lounge.”

  “Samantha and I were having a conversation, Margaret, I already accepted condolences at the church. I see no reason to stand there and listen to people gush over Richard again.”

  “Once again, you are proving to be the worst first lady Lancashire has known.”

  “I'm sure you will be the best, Margaret. It's a job you have wanted for years and now it's all yours. Wasn't it convenient for Richard to die so you could anoint yourself queen of Lancashire?”

  Margaret looked in disgust at Sophia and glared at them. Samantha noticed a slight twitch in Margaret's eye. Richard's death was convenient for an ambitious woman and her husband. The suspects in his murder were piling up in Samantha's mind.

  “I'm sorry that witch disturbed us, Samantha, I'd like to continue our conversation sometime soon. Would you like to stop by the house in the next couple days?”

  “I'd like that, Sophia, let me know a good time for you and I'll be there.”

  Samantha wanted to hear what Sophia was about to tell her before Margaret Wakefield burst into the room. She liked Sophia and suspected something was troubling her. She hoped she would feel comfortable confiding in her.

  “What was that all about?” asked Fletch.

  “Eloise thought Sophia needed a friend. She is right, something is troubling her, and I'd like to find out what it is.”

  “Do you think she had something to do with Richard Delaney's death?”

  Samantha didn't try to hide her concern. “I hope not,” she whispered.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was shortly after one o'clock when Samantha returned to her apartment. Megan was already at work and on the telephone jotting down the details of a request for a speaking engagement.

  “Your reputation is growing, Samantha. They want you as the keynote speaker for a hospital foundation luncheon in Middleton.”

  “Middleton? That's a three-hour drive from here. My grandparents had a cabin on the lake near there. Mom and Dad still go to Middleton a few times a year but it's vacant most of the time. I could spend a few days there and write with no distractions.”

  “Speaking of distractions, how was the funeral?”

  “The funeral was lengthy, I thought we’d lost Fletch and Frank halfway through. The reception at the country club was interesting, Margaret Wakefield is trying to establish herself as the social leader of Lancashire and this was a good start. Sophia Delaney was there only as window dressing.”

  “Sophia Delaney is a wonderful actress. Before the horrible shooting, I was having the time of my life watching her performance.”

  “She was performing today too. Tell me, how did it go last night? Did you tell Jimmy you were moving out?”

  “Jimmy was in bad shape last night. He was drunk and acting weird. I almost felt sorry for him. I found pills in his pocket. I know little about drugs, but I know I want nothing to do with anyone who does them. After he passed out, I was afraid to leave him alone. I fell asleep on the sofa and left first thing this morning.”

  Megan told Samantha about Mike bringing her breakfast and about her new part-time job with him.

  “It's only one day a week and I will make sure it doesn't interfere with my time with you.”

  “That's terrific, Mike is a great guy, I'm glad you two are friends.”

  “Yes, I am too, it's nice to have friends again, I have had none, except Jimmy, since we moved here. I know you are my boss, but I consider you my friend too.”

  “I'm glad you feel that way because I feel the same way too. I'm surprised Jimmy hasn't tried to contact you.”

  “Maybe that's a good sign, it could mean he is glad I'm gone.” Megan held her crossed fingers in the air.

  If she and Samantha looked out the window, they'd have seen Jimmy watching the apartment from across the street. Nobody walks out on Jimmy Lee Butler.

  Samantha answered her cell phone less than an hour after she returned home.

  “Samantha, this is Sophia Delaney, I'm sure you are busy; I was wondering if you would meet with me this afternoon.”

  “Sophia, is everything all right? You don't sound like yourself.”

  “I'm sorry, I'm keeping my voice low because I don't want Eloise to know I'm asking to meet you. She will want to join us and I'd rather she didn't.”

  “I understand,” although she didn't, “where would you like to meet?”

  “There is a coffee shop near the campus theater. It should be quiet this time of day. I can be there in twenty minutes. Eloise is napping, I will be out of here before she wakes up.”

  Samantha knew the coffee shop well. One of her many part-time jobs while attending the university was working there. She had never been much of a coffee drinker but couldn't resist some chocolate flavored, cream-filled options she'd made every day. By the end of the semester that year, she had gained five pounds.

  Samantha arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early. For old-time sake, she ordered a mocha latté with extra cream. It was as good as she remembered.

  Sophia came bustling through the door. She wore a tattered pair of jeans with an oversized shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail and she had only a touch of blush on her cheeks. She looked nothing like the glamorous actress who had buried her husband hours before.

  “Thank you for meeting me, Samantha. I have the feeling you are someone I can talk to. I know you are friends with Detective Fletcher, and I hope I'm not putting you in an uncomfortable position.”

  “Sophia, I'm happy to hear what you have to say but if this has something to do with a police investigation, I must report our conversation.”

  “I understand, the thing is, I don't know if it has anything to do with Richard's murder. Eloise has told me not to mention my suspicions to anyone, but I can't keep quiet any longer. I have bouts of sleepwalking. I don't recall these episodes. Richard told me he had to chase after me when I've walked out of the house in my nightgown.

  “Two nights before Richard was murdered, I know I left the house because it had rained during the evening and my shoes were wet the next morning, I hadn't worn those shoes in weeks.

  “I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and knew some unsavory people. I ran into one of my old friends, Tony Horton, over a year ago. He knew I was married to Richard and knew Richard enjoyed being seen with beautiful women. He gave me his business card and told me to call him if I decided to teach Richard a lesson. I found the card in the pocket of my jacket that morning too.”

  “Are you saying you think you hired a hit-man while you were asleep?”

  “It's possible, whoever shot Richard was an expert marksman. Who else, but a hired gun, could have been that accurate at such a distance in a crowded theater?”

  “Sophia, this sleep disorder, have you talked to a doctor about it?”

  “Yes, he said it results from too much stress and sleep deprivation. He gave me medication to help with the stress, but it makes me feel groggy, so I don't take it.”

  “I don't know what to say, I don't know you well although I can't imagine you arranging for the murder of your husband or anyone else. Have you talked to this fellow, Tony, since Richard died?”

  “No, I know I should call him but I'm afraid he will tell me what I don't want to hear.”

  “Is there money missing from your bank account? I'm not familiar with what the going rate is for murder for hire, but I would think it would make a noticeable dent in your finances.”

  “I never thought of that, I'll check for withdrawals. Unless Tony did it out of the kindness of his heart.”

  “I'm not an expert on hit-men either but I doubt they would commit murder as a favor.”

  “Samantha, thank you, you have made me feel better. Maybe I'm not responsible for Richard's death. I'm not oblivious to his imperfections, but I loved him.”

  Samantha wondered what Sophia would h
ave been like if she hadn't married Richard. It couldn't have been easy watching him parade around town with other women on his arm. She recalled the way he looked at her when they first met. The expression undressing her with his eyes came to mind. He was a sleaze, but he didn't deserve to die.

  After an hour of pleasant conversation, the women parted. Sophia felt relaxed for the first time in years. She hadn't had a real friend since high school. Samantha told her to call anytime she was feeling stressed, maybe it would help if she talked it out and not keep it bottled up inside.

  Samantha was driving back to her apartment and wondering if she should keep this information from Fletch. There's no reason to tell him about Sophia and her sleepwalking. It's absurd to think someone would hire a hit-man while asleep. She was deep in thought and didn't notice the truck following behind her.

  Jimmy Lee took another swig of his beer to wash down the pills he had swallowed.

  Samantha pulled into her assigned spot in the parking garage of her apartment building. As she opened the car door and stepped out, a truck pulled behind her blocking her way. Her heart skipped a beat when Jimmy Lee Butler walked toward her. She opened her mouth to speak and saw the rifle in his hand. She turned to run and felt a severe pain at the back of her head before she fell to her knees and blacked out.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Fletch, this is Megan, I'm sorry to bother you, have you heard from Samantha?”

  “No, Megan isn't she there with you at the apartment, I know she was headed that way after the funeral.”

  “She was here, but she got a call and said she'd be out for an hour. That was three hours ago, I tried to call her on her cellphone and it goes directly to voicemail. I'm worried, Fletch, it's not like Samantha to be out of touch for so long.”

  “I'll be right over. Do you know who she was meeting?”

  “She didn't tell me, it might be my imagination, yet she seemed concerned when she left here.”

  Fletch drove as fast as he could to Samantha's apartment building. He knew it was doubtful he would get an answer, but he called her cell phone. He parked in the visitor's parking lot and walked into the garage to see if her car was there. He was relieved when he saw her VW in the usual spot, but panic set in when he discovered her purse on the floor beside the car. Her cell phone was in it along with her cash and credit cards eliminating a robbery. Fletch felt the hood of the car, it was cold. He looked through her purse and found a receipt for a purchase at the College Avenue Coffee Shop. The time stamp was almost three hours ago. Who did she meet? Was she with that person now? It's obvious, she didn't go willingly? Where could she be? Fletch rarely panicked, but he was frighteningly so now. He used the key Samantha had given him and walked into the lobby of the building. He didn't wait for the elevator but took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. Mike was in the apartment with Megan.

  “Has she called you?” asked Megan.

  “No, her car is in the garage and this was on the floor,” Fletch said holding Samantha's purse in the air. “I'll check her calls to see who she was meeting.”

  Fletch went through the incoming calls until he came upon Sophia Delaney's name.

  “That makes sense, I know Samantha talked with Mrs. Delaney at the reception after the funeral. She must have called her to continue their conversation. Samantha mentioned they were interrupted by Margaret Wakefield.”

  Fletch redialed Sophia's number.

  “Samantha, I didn't expect to hear from you so soon.”

  “Mrs. Delaney, this is Detective Fletcher. I'm calling from Samantha's phone.”

  She told him about my sleepwalking; he’ll arrest me.

  “Mrs. Delaney, are you there?”

  “Yes, Detective, I'm here.”

  “Mrs. Delaney, I believe you met with Samantha earlier this afternoon, is that correct?”

  “Yes, Detective, we met for coffee.”

  “Samantha is missing and I'm afraid she has been abducted. Her car is in the parking garage, her purse was beside it, and there is no sign of her. I believe you were the last person to see her.”

  “Samantha is missing? I can't believe it, we were together not two hours ago. Do you know who took her?”

  “We don't have a clue, is there anything you can think of that seemed unusual when you were with her?”

  There was silence on the other end. Fletch assumed Mrs. Delaney was thinking.

  “Yes, I don't know if it means anything, I noticed a truck parked across the street from the coffee shop when I pulled my car into a spot in front. There was a young man with a ponytail in the driver's seat. I noticed him because he was staring at the coffee shop window. When we left, about an hour later, he was still there. When Samantha pulled away from the shop, he pulled away from the curb. You don't think he was the one who abducted her, do you?”

  Can you tell me anything about the truck, the color, the make, anything?

  “It was light, tan or gray. It could have been a dirty white. I know nothing about makes and models of trucks, Detective. It was an older truck, not in the best of shape. I wish I could tell you more.”

  “You've been helpful, Mrs. Delaney, I'll call you if I have questions.”

  “Please have Samantha call me as soon as she gets home, I'll worry until I hear from her.”

  Fletch ended the call and turned to Megan.

  “What color is Jimmy's truck,” he asked.

  “It's tan, a '99 Ranger. Why do you ask? Do you think Jimmy hurt Samantha?”

  “He might have, Mrs. Delaney described a young guy with a ponytail. She knew he was in a light color truck but doesn't know the make or model.”

  “Oh Fletch, it could be Jimmy. It's like him to blame Samantha because I left. I'm so sorry I put her in danger, I should have known he'd get revenge.”

  Fletch called the station requesting a search of Jimmy's apartment and an APB for Jimmy Lee Butler for questioning in the disappearance of Samantha Degan.

  “Do you know of any place Jimmy would have taken her, Megan?”

  “Is there a place called The Fort? I remember hearing Jimmy on the phone one time. He said he'd meet someone at The Fort. He didn't know I was listening, and I didn't dare ask him what it was because I suspected it had something to do with drugs. I should have left him back then, but I didn't have the courage,” she sobbed.

  Mike held her in his arms, “This isn't your fault Megan, it's Jimmy's fault and his alone. Stop beating yourself up.”

  Fletch knew it wasn't Megan's fault but couldn't help but wish she had never come into Samantha's life. He had to find her but had no idea where to look. He called his friend, Troy, who worked for the vice squad, asking if he'd heard of The Fort.

  “It might be a code for a meeting place. It could be anywhere on the Randolph Highway. There's a lot of drug activity out there in those abandon cabins near the river. I'd like to take a bulldozer and obliterate them all.”

  “Thanks, Troy. That's a big help.”

  Fletch headed for the door.

  “What did he tell you Fletch?” asked Mike.

  “He had an idea where I can look.”

  “You aren't going alone?”

  “Yes, I am, I can't wait for backup I have to get to Samantha before that maniac hurts her.”

  “Call Robin, have her meet you there, in your state of mind, you might make the situation worse.”

  “You're right, I'll call her from the car.”

  Samantha's head throbbed as she slowly opened her eyes. She had a difficult time focusing and had no idea where she was. The last thing she remembered was seeing Jimmy Lee Butler with a rifle in his hand and then the pain and blackness. To the left was a small window. She could see the darkness in the sky. What had happened to her? Had she been out for hours? It was eerily quiet in the room. Her hands were tied behind her with a heavy rope. She was seated in a straight-back chair and her feet were secured to the bottom with another rope. She moved her feet and discovered the rope loosened. It was da
mp and musty in what looked to be a cabin. I remember now, Jimmy Lee was in the parking garage. He had a rifle in his hand and he looked like a madman, I thought he would kill me. Where is he? Is he leaving me here?

  The door opened, and Samantha was looking into Jimmy Lee's eyes.

  “So, you woke up? You took long enough. I thought you would die and take all the fun out of watching you suffer a slow death.”

  “Why do you want to kill me?” Samantha asked because she couldn't think of anything else to say.

  “Why do I want to kill you? Because you don't deserve to live after you talked Megan into leaving me. Don't deny it, I know you and your stupid job is the reason she walked out. After I get rid of you, I’ll go after her. I have plans for her, I might let her live, but no man will want her after I get through with her.”

  Samantha felt a chill; she guessed Jimmy was on drugs and didn't doubt he would hurt her. He didn't notice she was slowly loosening the rope around her feet until her legs were free.

  “Jimmy, tell me one thing before I die, did you kill Mayor Delaney?”

  He laughed at her question.

  “I should have, I should have killed him and Megan too, but I didn't do it. She told me it was part of the job, what kind of fool does she think I am? If someone hadn't put a bullet through his head, she would have slept with him that night. She'll pay for betraying me.”

  Jimmy walked toward her, he brought his fist back, but before he could hit her, she raised both her legs and kicked him as hard as she could. He fell back in agony as Samantha ran out the opened door of the cabin. Her hands were still tied behind her back slowing her progress. She ran through the brush. Her legs were scratched and bleeding, but she didn't feel the pain. She finally made her way to the road and saw the lights of a truck barreling down the highway toward her. She heard the blast of the horn and could feel a shot of air as the truck barely missed her. She then heard a thump and a gunshot along with the squealing of the truck’s brakes. She knew instantly that the truck hit Jimmy but was could not move.