The shaken truck driver opened the door to the cab.
“What's going on here?” He yelled.
He walked over to Jimmy's broken body. Samantha could hear him calling for Jimmy to wake up.
“Who's out there, I know someone is there, I didn't hit you, I hit your friend.”
Samantha walked across the road to the truck driver.
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“I don't think so, what is this game you are playing? You both could have been killed.”
He looked at Samantha and saw her hands tied behind her back.
“Are you all right, miss? Did this guy hurt you?”
“He was about to but thank God you came along when you did. Would you mind calling Detective Fletcher, I'll give you his number.”
“Let's get you out of these ropes and you can call him yourself.”
“Fletch, it's me. I'm sorry I missed our dinner date.” She turned the phone over to the truck driver who gave Fletch their location and asked him to send an ambulance.
“I'm not sure this guy is worth saving but I suppose that isn't my decision to make.”
Fletch arrived in less than five minutes. He held Samantha gently in his arms. She had dried blood on the back of her head, her legs were scratched and bleeding and she had rope burns on her wrists.
“I'm fine, Fletch. I'm not sure about Jimmy, though, you might want to see to him.”
“I don't care about Jimmy's condition after what he did to you.”
The ambulance arrived; the paramedics put Jimmy on a stretcher and hauled him away. Samantha said she was fine but Fletch insisted she be seen in the emergency room before going home.
After giving his insurance information and signing a police report, the truck driver was sent on his way to deliver the goods he was transporting. Samantha thanked him again and, to his delight, gave him a hug.
Samantha had a slight concussion from the gun barrel hitting her in the head. She was told to take it easy for the next few days.
Jimmy Lee had a broken arm and leg from being hit by the truck. The more serious damage was done by his gun that discharged when he was hit. A bullet lodged in his spine and it was doubtful he would walk again. He was arrested for kidnapping and eventually for drug trafficking. Megan attempted to visit him in the hospital and he refused to see her. He blamed her for everything bad that happened to him.
Chapter Thirteen
Samantha's run-in with Jimmy Lee was nothing more than an unpleasant memory. She felt relief that he was safely locked away waiting to be sentenced for his various crimes. Fletch told her he pled guilty to the charge of kidnapping and agreed to testify for the prosecution against his cohorts about the drug activity. He is despondent over his paralysis and didn't care whether or not there was retaliation.
Although Megan wasn't able to erase the memory of Jimmy, she was happier than she'd ever been. Looking back on her time with him, she could see how he had controlled her. Samantha could see the change in Megan and it helped that she and Mike Thompson were becoming good friends. Mike knew friendship was what Megan needed. In time, he thought she might give more and he would be a willing recipient.
“Fletch, the Commissioner is on the phone,” said Robin Wells, “he wants to know what's taking so long solving the Richard Delaney murder? Mayor Wakefield is badgering him, he says.”
“Tell him it's taking so long because we don't have a clue who did it. No, don't tell him that, I'll talk to him.”
Fletch forced a smile on his face before he spoke.
“Hello Commissioner, what can I do for you?”
“Fletch, I'm getting pressure on this Delaney murder. What's the hold-up, son? You were two seats away from the mayor when he was shot. I'm questioning your competence. What about that drug dealer who kidnapped your girlfriend? Can you pin it on him?”
“I wish it was that easy, but the evidence doesn't point to him. My guess is it was a professional job and will be difficult to solve.”'
“Your guess isn't good enough, I want you and Wells to work on this case exclusively. When's that baby due? Tell her the timing isn't convenient. I wish she'd talked to me before she got herself knocked up again. Pregnancy is one of the many reasons not to have women on the force.”
“I'll be sure to pass that along to Wells, sir. If there's nothing else, I'll get to work solving the murder.”
Fletch's phone was on speaker and Robin was listening to the conversation.
“Did you hear that Wells? The Commissioner wants to know when you get horny again?” Fletch laughed.
“A new form of birth control, I'll picture the Commissioner's face, what a mood killer that would be.”
Robin stood up quickly, she grimaced and doubled over in pain, “Please call Frank, I'd better get to the hospital; I'm in labor. I'll have a patrolman drive me.”
“No, you won't, I'll drive you.”
Fletch had delivered his share of babies but preferred they were born in a hospital with a doctor present. He placed the portable flasher on his car and drove quickly but carefully to the emergency entrance of Lancashire hospital.
Frank, who worked less than a mile from the hospital, was waiting for Robin when she arrived. Although this was their third child, Frank worried about his wife. This pregnancy hadn't been easy for her. He wondered if it was a wise decision to have another child but it was a little late to reconsider.
Robin smiled at her husband, “this one is eager to meet us,” she said as a pain took her breath away.
She was transported to labor and delivery where she gave birth to a healthy baby girl within minutes.
Fletch checked in on his partner who had never looked so happy. He told her little Emma was beautiful although he didn't think newborn babies were the best-looking creatures.
On his way back to the station, he called Samantha to give her the news. Because everything happened so quickly, it was the first chance he'd had to tell her about Robin and the baby.
He became alarmed when she didn't answer her phone. Since her ordeal with Jimmy, Fletch worried about her. He was happy her book was such a success but too much notoriety could bring danger too. His next call was to Megan.
“Megan, it's Fletch, I'm sorry to bother you but Samantha isn't picking up her phone, is she there?”
“No, Fletch, she was meeting Mayor Wakefield's executive assistant, Wanda Anderson. Perhaps she turned her phone off. She said Wanda had information about Richard Delaney's murder.”
An hour earlier, Samantha sat at her desk finishing, what she hoped would be, the last rewrite of her mystery novel. She was nervous about the book. Memoirs of Professor Stonehill was a success, but the subject differed from a fictional murder mystery.
Maybe she chose the wrong career, the world was filled with novelists, and few could make a living writing.
It surprised her that there was interest in having her speak at various functions in the area. She was also surprised that public speaking brought her pleasure. She wished Professor Stonehill was alive and could know he was still influencing people. Samantha was glad she was a fastidious note taker and jotted down the professor's clever anecdotes and heartwarming stories.
The ringing of her cell phone startled her.
“Ms. Degan, Wanda Anderson calling. I'm executive assistant to Mayor Forrest Wakefield.”
“Hello Ms. Anderson, I believe we met at Mayor Delaney's funeral. How many I help you?”
“Perhaps I can help you, I know you are looking into the murder of Richard Delaney. Your beau, Detective Fletcher, asked me to call if I had any information for him. I'm afraid I have nothing concrete, and I don't want to be on the record. I thought if I talked to you, it would be off the record.”
“Ms. Anderson, I would be happy to meet with you. However, if you have information that will solve the mayor's murder, I must pass it along to the authorities.”
“I understand, I know who killed the former mayor, although I have no evidence.”
“I'd prefer to meet you here if it's convenient for you. Mayor Wakefield will be out of the office all day.”
“I will be there in ten minutes.”
It struck Samantha that Wanda Anderson looked older than her voice suggested. With her mousy brown hair wrapped in a bun at the back of her neck and her unbecoming polyester pantsuit, she looked well past retirement age. Samantha couldn't help but think of the stylish Margaret Wakefield. Wanda was no competition for her employer's wife.
“Ms. Degan, thank you for coming.”
“Please call me Samantha. May I call you Wanda?”
“I suppose that will be appropriate because of what I am about to tell you,” she whispered so quietly, Samantha barely made out what was being said.
Wanda closed the door to her office. Calling the front desk, she told the receptionist she didn't wish to be disturbed.
“I don't know how to say this other than to come right out with it. Cindy Matthews murdered her boss, I don't know if she killed him herself or hired someone to do it for her but I'm sure she did it.”
Samantha only spoke with Cindy the day of the funeral and didn't know her well but she didn't strike her as someone capable of murder. Cindy was a comfort to Megan when the media badgered her after the mayor's death.
“What makes you think Mayor Delaney's assistant was responsible for his death, Wanda?”
“She was in love with him, you know. Cindy loved her boss. When she worked for him, he took her to all the social functions he should have attended with his wife. I know he was bedding her, it was disgusting, she pranced around these offices with her nose in the air. She thought she was something special, but she was nothing but a common trollop. She had no respect for these dignified offices. Mayor Delaney became bored with her and chose others to take her place. She wasn't so high and mighty after that. Mayor Wakefield got rid of her after he took over. There was no need to have her kind around anymore.”
“Are you saying Cindy Matthews killed Mayor Delaney because he ended their affair?”
“Everyone knew Richard would run for governor. Well, I was in the lady’s room when I heard Cindy telling Mindy Bellows that Richard was looking for someone more sophisticated to be his executive assistant when he was elected governor. You should have heard her, she was fit to be tied.”
The look of satisfaction on Wanda's face didn't go unnoticed by Samantha.
“Did she say she planned to kill the mayor?”
“No, but I'm sure she was thinking about it.”
“I would like to talk to Cindy, I don't suppose you have a phone number for her.”
“I will get it for you.”
“How long have you worked for Mayor Wakefield, Wanda?”
“I've been his right hand for over twenty-two years. He's a brilliant man. Unfortunately, he hadn't reached his full potential until he took over as mayor.”
“Richard Delaney's death wasn't in vain then,” Samantha said sarcastically.
“I should say not. Some of us didn't mourn him at all.”
Wanda Anderson is a piece of work. I would love to know what she thinks of Mrs. Wakefield, Samantha thought as she walked out of the city government offices holding a slip of paper with Cindy Matthew's address and phone number on it.
Samantha called Cindy from her car. Cindy answered immediately and agreed to talk with Samantha inviting her to her apartment.
Cindy lived in a Victorian home that was converted into three apartments. The tree-lined street was inviting with old-fashioned street lamps and colorful flowers along the median. The home was a soft red brick with turrets and dormers on the three-story building. The porch that encircled the front door was welcoming.
Samantha rang the doorbell and was greeted by a smiling Cindy Matthews.
“Hello Samantha, it's nice seeing you again. I'm afraid I made a terrible fool of myself when we last met.”
“You didn't make a fool of yourself, you were understandably upset.”
Samantha's first impression of Cindy held true, she was far from being a trollop, as Wanda put it. She was dressed modestly in some V-necked, short-sleeved cotton top and lightweight capris.
“Please come in, my apartment is on the second floor.”
Samantha followed Cindy up the winding staircase to her apartment. She opened the door and Samantha almost gasped.
“Cindy, this is lovely,” she said as she looked around the large living area. Three floor to ceiling rounded windows overlooked the street below and a park on the right. Cindy had furnished the room in pastels with a white sofa and soft pink chairs. The walls were painted lavender with white trim. The kitchen appliances and cupboards were white, the walls were a soft lemon color with windows looking out to the river.
“I do love it here; I don't know how much longer I can keep up with the rent. I’ve had little luck finding a job since I left the mayor's office. I'm guessing you got my phone number and address from Wanda Anderson.”
“Yes, she gave it to me.”
“She doubtless told you I killed Richard. The old bat never liked me, but it surprised me when she accused me of murder.”
“She accused you?”
“Yes, she is convinced I killed him because he broke my heart. That part is true, I'm ashamed of it but I thought I was in love with Richard. She is also convinced we were having an affair, and that part isn't true. I was willing, it was Richard who remained faithful to his wife.”
“You accompanied him to several events.”
“I did until people talked. He thought it looked better if he had a variety of women on his arm. He was a chronic flirt, I honestly believe he never did more than flirt. He had a tremendous ego, and enjoyed making people think he was a stud. It's only been a matter of weeks since his death, but I have psychoanalyzed myself and I'm finally getting over him.
“When he said I wasn't suitable for the job of assistant to the governor, I wanted him dead. I pictured myself walking into his office and stabbing him in his heart. I thought of poisoning him. That's when I decided I'd gone off the deep end. I made an appointment with a psychiatrist but canceled it when Richard died. I have an alibi for that night, I was at a birthday celebration for my three-year-old niece. Almost all my relatives were there too.”
“I'm not accusing you of murder but I must tell you, the police are looking into the possibility of this being a professional job.”
“Well, I guess I'm not off the hook, I don't know where to find a hit-man, but I suppose I could if I tried.”
“You have been honest with me about your feelings for Mayor Delaney. I doubt you would be so candid if you were hiding a murder.”
“Thank you for saying that; I'll call Wanda and assure her she has nothing to fear from me. I have no intention of taking her job from her.”
“She didn't strike me as the insecure type but you know her better than I do. Do you remember Megan Fairbanks? She's working for me now.”
“Yes, I remember her. She is a nice girl. I didn't care for her boyfriend. I can't remember his name, but he was a mean character.”
“He's out of the picture now.”
“Good! Please give Megan my best.”
Chapter Fourteen
How interesting, Samantha thought. Mayor Richard Delaney affected different people in different ways. She had him pegged when she first met him and figured out immediately that he was a shameless flirt.
Upon returning to the apartment, Megan met her at the door.
“Fletch is trying to reach you. Your phone must be turned off. You'd better call him right away, he's worried about you.”
“I turned it off and forgot about it. I'll call him, it's nice having someone worry about me.”
“You are a lucky woman, I don't know why you are hesitating about accepting his marriage proposal, don't let one of the good guys get away.”
S
amantha rolled her eyes at her friend. Megan was right, Fletch was one of the good guys. She didn't want to burden him with a wife who had one successful book and might never have another published in her lifetime. After so many rewrites, she was thinking maybe her desire to be a writer is a pipe-dream.
Fletch picked up on the first ring.
“Samantha, are you all right? After what happened with Jimmy Lee Butler, I get nervous when I can't reach you.”
“I'm sorry, Fletch, I'll keep my phone on vibrate from now on, thanks for worrying about me.”
“You didn't ask why I was trying to get in touch with you, Robin had a baby girl this afternoon. She and Emma are doing well.”
“Fletch, that's wonderful, I'll bet she's a beautiful baby.”
“Robin seems to think so, personally, I think she looks a little like a prune.”
“Don't say that, the poor little girl has been through an ordeal being born, I'd love to see her.”
“I'm getting ready to leave the office. Why don't I swing by and pick you up, we can go to the hospital together? Frank is taking the boys to meet their sister. What's a couple more visitors.”
“I'll be waiting, I had a couple interesting conversations today and want to tell you about them. I'm afraid it has nothing to do with solving the mayor's murder other than eliminating suspects.”
Samantha was excited about seeing Emma. She hadn't been around a newborn baby since she was a teenager. Two of her older brothers were married by then and each had a child of their own. Samantha smiled remembering the day her first nephew, Matthew, was born. She was in awe of his tiny fingers and toes. It was hard to believe that big strapping adolescent was ever so small. Since moving to Lancashire to attend school, she only saw her nieces and nephews when visiting her folks.
Fletch pulled up in front of the apartment building where Samantha was waiting for him.
“Am I late?” he asked.
“Not at all; I can't wait to see the baby. Did Robin go into labor at the office? I know she was scheduled to work today.”
Murder in Lancashire Page 7
