A Lethal Time (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 4) (12 page)

BOOK: A Lethal Time (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 4)
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Chapter 49

Intruder # 4

 

 

Just as we were about to leave the room, we heard another creak coming from the kitchen area. Like instant replay, we backed up across the room, flattened ourselves once more against the wall, as Major instinctively turned off his flashlight and drew his gun out.

My mind was guessing who it was, especially after no one called out, which meant it wasn’t Crystal,
again
. I had a feeling we wouldn’t get a free pass this time. I whispered to Major, “You know how to use that thing, right?”

His chest expanded with indignation, like I had insulted his mother. “I’ll have you know, young lady, I was in the army. I am well-versed in the use of firearms.”

I considered my odds. “Just checking. More people own guns who shouldn’t and shoot the wrong target.”

Of course at that precise moment, I didn’t feel it was necessary to let him know that might include yours truly. I was good with a bat, though, indoors or out.

Instead of those footsteps climbing the stairs, they approached Robinson’s bedroom door. We froze as the doorknob turned and the door eased open. A thin beam of light roamed the far wall then slowly swung in our direction. Major aimed his gun, ready to shoot if necessary.

When the light hit the three of us, I heard a loud sigh. I
knew
that sigh and spoke quickly before someone got hurt.

“Hold on, Major! I wasn’t expecting Clay.”

Major turned to me. “You know this individual?”

“Yes,” I replied, giving a sigh of my own.

Clay gave a shadowy, sarcastic laugh from across the half-darkened room. “And quite intimately.”

I felt my face flush and turned away.

“And who is this young man, Samantha?” Millicent asked, stepping toward Clay, who had lowered his gun.

As Major lowered his, we gathered in the middle of the room, shaking hands after hasty introductions were made. With two flashlights now, there was plenty of light.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Clay.

“Crystal had trouble with her bike. Not getting through to you, she called me and said to get here just in case.”

I checked my cell.
Dead.
“Wait a sec. In case of what?”

“In case there’s trouble for a certain someone who is notorious for getting into situations beyond her control.”

Both Major and Millicent looked at me, questioningly.

I tried playing it down, shrugging slightly. “Well, there may have been one or two iffy incidents in the past when things …kind of got away from me.”

“Ha!” laughed Clay. “That’s a novel way of stating it.”

I shot him a warning look. “…Very …funny.”

Being Sam-savvy, he wisely changed the subject.

 

 

 

Chapter 50

Meeting Up

 

 

By the time Clay and I got home, lights were blazing away in the kitchen area, which meant that everyone was up, and after seeing Crystal’s motorcycle already in the garage, that meant she was back, too. We parked and joined everyone at the kitchen table.

Betty set out two more mugs and poured tea for Clay and me, then refilled the other mugs. She was a stickler for hospitality. Hazel reached over and offered us cookies.

“Well, by the look on your two faces, it was quite a night,” said Martha, snatching one of the cookies.

“Yes,” I said.

But then I honed in on Crystal. “By the look on
your
face, you did not. What happened?”

Crystal was sipping her beer instead of tea and wearing a frown.
Something was up.
“You first. Mine can wait.”

I explained my unexpected visitors. Clay then explained his cell call from Crystal, another surprise of the evening.

“How intriguing!” Hazel said. “Very Hercule Poirot!”

“Not quite,” I said, remembering. “With those smells in the dark, and those disgusting crunchy bugs underfoot, it wasn’t exactly thrilling. Being alone didn’t help, either.”

With a look of regret, Martha said, “I should have been there. My crime karma would’ve helped.”

“Let me tell you, Martha, for once I actually missed you being around, including your complaining.”

She gave me a sharp look. “What do you mean by that?”

Hazel interrupted. “You know exactly what she means.”

“I may be opinionated,” said Martha, “but…”

“Ha!” said Hazel, laughing. “That’s an understatement!”

Sitting in between them, Betty grabbed their wrists.

“Break it up. Let’s hear what they have to say, okay?”

Martha yanked her arm back. “By the way, Clay, if you took your motorcycle, why didn’t Sam hear your approach? She was already expecting Crystal on her bike.”

“I wasn’t sure what was going on when I saw a parked truck minus plates. Another car passed me, slowed down, and then kept going. I parked off to the side and walked.”

Hazel said, “How about letting us interview someone?”

“What about Millicent and Major?” Betty suggested.

“Good idea. Pay them a visit, then Sarah and George.”

Martha winked
.
“We can talk about AARP benefits.”

Hazel leaned in, looking at Martha. “You think so?”

Martha laughed. “You are so clueless.”

“Well, I do know they can get cheaper prescriptions!”

Betty chimed in. “I like the covers on their magazines.”

“You guys are just plain crazy, you know that?” said an annoyed Crystal, jumping up and pacing.

Martha sniffed. “And what has you acting so uppity?”

“I’m stressed out because my bike tire was slit tonight!”

 

 

 

Chapter 51

Cutting To The Truth

 

 

That sure put a stop to all the bantering back and forth. Crystal was visibly upset. Who would slice her tire? But the more I thought about it, she
was
attached to my group and what I
was
investigating. The results weren’t in yet about all of it, but I
was
still investigating, none-the-less, both Robinson’s place and Sarah’s missing woods.

Crystal finally sat down. “Ciao Baby and I had arranged to meet at the Weirs Beach, Tower Hill Tavern, a local bar and eatery. Apparently it’s a bike week hot spot, located on Lakeside Avenue, exactly where all of us were walking tonight. He said it was referred to as the Lakes Region’s Home of the Blues. It was packed by the time I got there.”

“It’s too bad we missed some good music,” Martha said.

Crystal frowned at the interruption, but didn’t retort.

Shrugging, Martha gestured. “…
Please.
Go ahead.”

“It was what Ciao Baby finally told me that got me.”

“And what was that?” Betty asked, scooting closer.

“About the dirty underbelly at this rally,” added Clay.

She turned on him. “Then why didn’t
you
tell me first?”

“Ciao Baby’s the Fed heading the task force.”

“So,” I said. “…You’re both working undercover?”

Martha laughed. “Well, don’t that beat all!”

“Two cases!” Hazel said, rubbing her hands together.

Clay stood. “Whoa! This is a totally separate case and not authorized for a bunch of women to be involved in.”

Martha shot him a dirty look. “Watch it. That’s sexist.”

“Take it any way you want, but you guys are not getting involved. This is dangerous.”

Crystal shot back, “But why keep me in the dark, Clay?”

I cut in. “So you wouldn’t be suspicious of Ciao Baby.”

Clay nodded. “He wanted Crystal’s unbiased take. Bikes were reported missing. Then the cops stopped a suspicious truck with stolen plates just before crossing the state line, discovering stolen bikes and parts coming from an illegal chop shop somewhere in the state. But they don’t know the location of it. It’s a perfect setup. With thousands of bikes around, people drinking, parking everywhere, and getting sloppy, their bikes end up stolen, used whole or chopped up for parts, and then shipped out of state in a flash.”

“So,” I said, “Ciao Baby’s tent setup as a tattoo artist was a front to keep his eyes and ears out there listening for gossip or catching the whereabouts of shady individuals.”

“His hobby comes in handy at these events. And that’s why we were interested in Sarah inside that barbecue tent.”

“She doesn’t have a record, does she?” asked Hazel.

“No. It was
who
she was with that got our attention.”

“Then we better find out
why
she was there.”

“What do you mean,
we
?” Clay asked. “Stay out of it.”

Martha and I made eye contact. She winked first.

I smiled. “
We
wouldn’t think of cramping your style.”

 

 

 

Chapter 52

Was It Really A Clue Or Knot?

 

 

The minute Clay left us for his shower, I remembered about the photos, pulled them from my pocket, and spread them out on the table for us to see. Everyone gathered behind me for a better look. I set down seven photos.

Six photos were of woods. At first I didn’t get it, but then I started to match them up, like they were a set of
before
and
after
shots. The
befores
were thick-forested land. The
afters
were of stripped, barren patches.

“Well, what do you know!” exclaimed Betty.

“It looks as though Robinson was out bird-watching and documenting areas that were being stripped,” said Hazel.

“He knew
where
, but did he know
who
?” Crystal asked.

“Maybe he tried to extort money?” suggested Martha.

“But from who?” I asked.

I remembered the seventh photo and turned it over.

“What an odd-looking shot,” said Betty, staring at it.

“Talk about a loose, slip knot,” said Hazel, laughing.

I stared over at her not getting her meaning.

“What in blazes does that mean?” Martha asked.

Ignoring her, Hazel directed her answer to the rest of us.

“Perhaps the whole thing is loosely tied together.”

“How?” I asked, still not quite getting her point.

“Two unintended scenarios loosely interlaced together,” Hazel said. “Whoever was ripping off people’s woods caught Robinson and are now looking for those photos.”

Crystal agreed. “Robinson could have been out bird-watching with a telescopic lens and accidentally stumbled upon what was going on while snapping some photos.”

“And started documenting what was going on,” I added.

“But what was the purpose of the seventh picture? Why did he take that?” Betty asked. “I don’t get it.”

“Look!” I said, spotting the edge of the photo and seeing a crooked view of someone’s jacketed arm with a chainsaw resting by a post. It had also caught a corner of a red barn
.

“Think he got a good look at who it was?” Hazel asked.

Martha smiled. “Maybe as he snuck up, he was almost caught, ran, and the camera clicked one off.”

Betty stared at it. “He must have wanted proof, but it doesn’t show any landmarks of where it was taken. This could have been the corner of any barn or property.”

“But the perpetrator didn’t know that,” said Martha.

No one could come up with a location that felt familiar. We had not been here that long, but I still felt that we weren’t picking up on something that we should have.

Just about every barn in the area was painted red or was like Sally and Tom’s, which was white. It was little to go on, but at least it was something. We finally called it a night and I pocketed the photos and walked up the stairs. Checking out so many properties was impossible, but…

Was it possible one still held a clue?

 

 

 

Chapter 53

Beyond Relationships & Reproach

 

 

Driving the rusty old truck was quite an experience, shimmy and all. Thank goodness it wasn’t stick shift, or I would’ve caused major damage. Then I’d have to explain to Sally and Tom why their truck was up on a lift and being worked on by their local truck dealer when they returned.

I swung into the Fielding’s drive, already expecting Millicent and Major to be a little skittish around me since our experience at Robinson’s. I didn’t think they were used to being stalked or being a target for potential unknowns in the dead of night, even if Major was comfortable with guns.

Martha and the bookworms were visiting Sarah, Clay was still checking on Jacob, the artist, and Crystal was feeding the horses and preparing for the groundskeeper, Dan, whose early return was now thrown into the mix.

I was about to rap on their back door, when it swung open. Major greeted me. “What a surprise. We’re about to have tea. Millicent,” he called out, “get another cup.”

I shook his hand and followed him into their living room. Within a minute, Millicent came in with a tea tray. As she poured, I got right to the reason for my visit.

“Do you two have any idea what might be going on in the area? I mean, regarding any lumber trucks driving by?”

Millicent paused mid-pour. “Whatever do you mean?”

Major leaned in, intrigued by my questions. “Why?”

I looked from one to the other. Could they have seen anything that might help me? Or were they so wrapped up in their own world and dismissive about what went on that appeared unusual, the exception being Robinson’s house.

Thinking back, I had learned over the last couple of years that the people you least suspected of wrong-doing were the same individuals who were capable of duplicity, lying right to your face, while feigning innocence.

Okay,
so I might be referring to Clay a little more than I intended at this point because of his past offenses before we became intimately involved. And I admit, I
am
involved.

It’s that my mind was in a fog lately. It seemed like I was going nowhere as a sleuth or writer in this. Maybe I had to separate myself from our relationship. It couldn’t be that hard, sort of like giving up my favorite candy.

No Clay? Hmmm…

I thought about that for all of two seconds, then smiled.

He was worth the toothache. He stays.

Who was the individual working behind the scene, stealing not only Sarah’s woods, but suddenly making me begin to question everyone’s reputation that was previously assumed beyond reproach?

In my books,
no one was above reproach, not even me.

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