Safe at Home (Warm Springs Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  “Are you Janice Johnston?” Stephens asked.

  “Yes, who’re you?”

  “I’m Lieutenant Stephens and this is Detective Martin. We wanted to ask you a couple of questions about your son.”

  “My son is dead,” Janice replied in a coarse whisper.

  “Your son Eric, ma’am. This won’t take long,” Stephens said as patiently as possible.

  She let out a heavy sigh and let them in the apartment. The two men surveyed the room and took a seat on the couch. The reclining chair that held Janice seemed worn from constant use. Stephens continued to scan the room while Martin flipped open a notepad and started asking questions.

  The place was filthy. The old television’s volume was turned down low. What looked like months’ worth of junk mail and bills were strewn about the coffee table. Stephens checked out the mantel above the gas log fire place. It was covered with pictures, all of them of the same little boy. There was one from a birthday party and another showing a toothless smile. Stephens thought of his own nephew and couldn’t imagine losing him. He’d already seen enough cases during his few years on the force involving children to know everyone handled it differently. This was clearly a woman who couldn’t let go.

  “Ma’am, when’s the last time you saw Eric?” Martin asked.

  “I don’t really know. Maybe a couple of days.” Her eyes drifted to the television for a moment.

  “Did you know he missed his meeting with his parole officer? There’s going to be a warrant for his arrest issued if he hasn’t made contact by the end of the day.” Martin wasn’t trying to scare her unnecessarily, but he needed to make her focus on the conversation. She didn’t seem to care and he was losing his patience.

  “I didn’t know about his missed meeting, but Eric’s a grownup. He can handle his own affairs.” Her voice was vacant, much like her face.

  “Ma’am, do you know where your son might go? Does he have a girlfriend?” After an entire minute passed, Martin took a deep breath and was about to ask his questions again when Janice spoke in a whisper.

  “I don’t know where he is.” She lit a cigarette and glanced at the mantle. “You know, he’ll never know what it’s like to have a girlfriend.”

  Stephens realized as she looked at them briefly, that she was no longer speaking of Eric. Her mind had wandered back to Jason.

  “He’ll never get to do anything a little boy should do.” Her eyes traveled back to the television.

  The officers exchanged a glance. They weren’t getting anywhere, so they stood and thanked Janice for her time.

  “If Eric contacts you, give us a call.” Martin handed her his card. She took it and set it on the cluttered table before following them to the door. They stepped outside into the clean air and she closed the door behind them, without another word.

  “That went well.” Stephens’ voice rang with sarcasm.

  “I wonder what it must’ve been like for a guy to watch his mother disappear like that.” Martin said to himself. Then he looked at Stephens over the roof of the car. “Would it be enough to make you bitter? Would it make you angry enough to want to hurt or even kill someone?”

  Stephens pondered over what Martin said as he got into the cruiser. “Yes, I think it could. Plus, there are too many coincidences here. Both men involved in the attempted robbery are dead. He’s missed his meeting with his parole officer. His first since the murder of Denise who, as it turns out, testified against him.”

  “Let’s say he’s on some sort of revenge killing spree. Who would be next?” Martin asked.

  “The only person still alive from the night of the attempted robbery is Samantha Parker.”

  “We need to find her,” replied Martin, “and fast.”

  He was getting bored. The entire week had been spent following her back and forth from home to the shop, from the shop home. That’s all she did. She’d at least been more interesting in Chicago. He sneered. Maybe she’d be more interesting when the fear returned.

  He was still trying to decide how he wanted to proceed. The same guy she’d been with in the back of the truck had been over to her house a couple of times. He might be a good place to start. There was always the shop itself, but breaking a bunch of old shit just didn’t have much appeal. Not after Denise.

  The blood, the tears. Even when he’d dreamed of how it would be to finally end Denise’s life, he never imagined it would feel so satisfying. He could only imagine how good it would feel to torment Samantha, for hours or days if he was lucky. Would she beg? Would her tears and pleading ignite his rage or erase it? He smiled again and took another drag, exhaling slowly.

  His mother would be proud of him. Happy he was taking charge and taking care of the family. She’d smile again when she found out the person responsible for taking Jason away from them had been punished. He knew his mother wanted justice. And there was only one way to make Samantha fully pay for what she’d done.

  Chapter 25

  It had been a long week. One Sam was particularly glad was over. She and Mary spent the majority of the week putting out new inventory and decorating for Christmas. It was strange to set up for Christmas when it was still warm outside. At the same time last year, she had to scrape the ice off the windows of her car and had already been sporting a winter coat.

  Spencer came over for dinner twice during the week, which had been great, but Sam was excited about dinner at Earl and Betsy’s. Flutters of anticipation blossomed inside her chest. It wasn’t so much the dinner as it was her after dinner plans making her burst with nervous energy. She ran the mascara over her lashes in the mirror and admitted her longing for Spencer had added to her impatience for the week’s end to arrive.

  Tonight was going to be different. She had decided to invite Spencer to spend the night with her. She stepped back and turned her head from side to side and smiled. It wasn’t as if he’d never been at her place, but never overnight in her bed. Spencer had never asked, and Sam was thankful. She had needed time and he understood, but she couldn’t wait any longer. When he kissed her, butterflies went crazy in her stomach and the heat . . . She’d never experienced anything like it.

  Between her thoughts about Spencer’s mouth, hands, and his body in general, and the phone calls in the middle of the night, her sleep had been interrupted. Whoever had the number before her had obviously been popular. She never had much luck falling back asleep because her overactive imagination kicked in.

  She ran a hand down the front of her dress, smoothing out wrinkles that weren’t there. On one hand she was happy and excited and on the other, she was nervous. She exhaled a shaky breath. Very nervous.

  She couldn’t decide if her anxiety was causing her nightmares to return or if it had been her feelings of being watched all week. She knew it seemed crazy, but she had not been able to shake the feeling someone was watching her every move. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she remembered the way she’d felt getting out of her car at work. A shiver ran through her.

  Sam forced the thoughts aside, as she looked at her face in the mirror one last time. This weekend was about her and Spencer. Nothing and no one was going to stand in the way.

  The doorbell sounded from the downstairs hall. Sam hit the light switch and took the stairs two at a time. She paused before she opened the door to catch her breath, better to seem cool and calm. She patted her hair and took one last steadying breath. She felt like a teenager before a first date.

  “Hey there. Don’t you look nice?” Spencer leaned against her doorjamb. His eyes caught and held her. He was dressed in a button-down shirt and khakis, and without the hat, there was nothing to obscure his perfect face.

  “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” She leaned in to give him a quick peck and pulled away. She was afraid if she allowed herself more, they wouldn’t make it to dinner at all. “Ready to go?”

  “Sure.” He straightened and patted his stomach. “I’ve been looking to forward to Betsy’s pot roast all wee
k.”

  “She does have a way in the kitchen. Maybe she’ll give me lessons.”

  Spencer held her door open. As he rounded the front of his truck, Sam’s butterflies went into overdrive. He was her date. This amazing man liked her and soon she was going to have him all to herself. As he slid in on the driver’s side, Sam couldn’t help but notice his bicep. He had to clear his throat before she realized he was talking to her. “I’m sorry. What did you say?” Her face heated.

  “If I’m boring you already, it’s going to be a long night,” he teased. “What I said was, if you’re truly interested, I’m sure Betsy would give you some pointers. She helped Ann out a lot when she and Jake first got married.”

  “Ann’s not naturally gifted? I thought all southern women had cooking built into their DNA.”

  Spencer laughed. “Hardly. Ann and Jake had their fair share of fast food and smoke alarms blazing their first year of marriage. But, you don’t have to mention I told you that. She might stop feeding me.”

  They chatted easily for the rest of the ride to the hotel. Sam was glad Spencer didn’t know of her plans in case she decided to chicken out. She’d only been with one other person, so it wasn’t like she was some kind of expert, but she knew what she wanted and that was Spencer.

  They were greeted at the entrance of the hotel by Boomer. Tail wagging, he led them to the back where the smell of homemade roast and potatoes filled the air.

  “Hey, you two. The roast is ready. Let me just pull out the rolls and we’ll be all set. Spencer, Earl wanted to see if you could help him with something in the office. Would you mind running back there and giving him a hand?”

  “No problem.” He ran a hand along Sam’s arm. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” She smiled as he disappeared down the hall.

  “He’s a good lookin’ boy isn’t he?” Betsy grinned and shuffled by her to get to the table.

  “That he is,” Sam said quietly.

  “Sam, sweetie, I wanted to ask you about something.”

  Sam filled a glass with ice. “Sure Betsy, what’s on your mind?”

  “Well, earlier a guy—” Betsy’s eyes widened. “Boomer, no!”

  Sam turned in time to see Boomer pull a piece of meat off the plate sitting in front of Earl’s seat and then took off down the hall. The plate teetered on the edge and then hit the floor, shattering into pieces.

  “Betsy, wait, I’ll get it.” Sam grabbed the broom from the corner and proceeded to sweep up the mess.

  “Thank you, Sam. That dog is going to be the death of me.”

  “What’s all the excitement?” Earl asked as he and Spencer entered the kitchen.

  “Boomer thought dinner looked good, too.” Sam dumped the dustpan full of plate shards into the trash.

  “Well, let’s eat before we have any more excitement. Grab ya a seat. Sweet tea, Spencer?” Betsy buzzed around the kitchen with efficiency.

  “Sure, some sweet tea sounds great.”

  Earl took his regular seat at the head of the table. Betsy made two trips to the kitchen counters to get another plate for Earl, the rolls and mashed potatoes, and then took her own seat across from Earl. Sam loved their cozy little kitchen. It was separate from the café area that was for guests. Being tucked away in their kitchen felt like going home. It was warm, inviting and worn in, the way a good kitchen should be.

  “Spencer, I’m so glad you could join us. The more the merrier and I usually have tons of leftovers.”

  “Yep, woman makes me eat the same thing three times a week til it’s all gone,” Earl grinned at his wife and cut another bite.

  “Oh, how terrible for you,” Sam teased. “If you’d like, we can trade places and I’ll come over here and eat Betsy’s cooking and you can heat up a microwave dinner at my place.”

  “Well, I don’t know much about cooking, so that might be too much work for me.” Earl winked at Sam and scooped up another bite.

  The dry grass crunched beneath his shoes. This was going to be easier than he originally thought. He took another drag off of his cigarette as he made a large circle around the back of the hotel. He was completely out of view of the street, but he wanted to make sure he remained inconspicuous. He didn’t want anything to get in the way of his plans.

  Right now, he just looked like a guest of the hotel who was out taking a smoke break. He eyed the back wall of the hotel, the old boards and bricks worn with age. It would be so easy to set fire to it. A flick of the cigarette near the wood pile would start a fire without much effort.

  Everything was in motion now. He could picture himself standing with a knife at Samantha’s throat. This fire would bring her back to him. Her attempt to flee had been feeble, but it did offer him a way to make her suffer. New friends to use against her. A new attempt at a normal life ruined. Would these friends scream the way Denise had? Would it feel good to torture them until they could no longer draw breath? Adrenaline leaked into his veins and he flexed his arms, the extra chemical fueling a sense of power. If only they knew what he knew about Samantha. They wouldn’t be so quick to welcome her with open arms then.

  He wanted her scared and in pain. He wanted to see the dull look in her eyes again. He wanted her voice to tremble when she answered the phone.

  All of his wishes would come true soon enough. He pushed off the wall and walked toward the woods in the distance. He needed to wait until night fall. His eyes glanced toward the lowering sun on the horizon and he smiled. Time was on his side.

  She was going to hurt. The way she deserved to hurt. And this time, he would finish it. Finish it and return home to tell his mother he’d taken care of everything, just like he said he would. He started to whistle then, the sound drifting away on the wind.

  They had stuffed themselves full of roast, potatoes, green beans and corn bread and just when Sam was afraid she would burst, Betsy brought out an apple pie.

  “Stick a fork in me, I’m done,” groaned Sam.

  “Well, if you don’t have room sweetie, that’s fine.” Betsy served Earl a piece of pie.

  “Don’t get carried away. You know I could never turn anything down that smells so heavenly.” Sam extended her plate. “How do you do it, Spencer?” Sam asked as Spencer helped himself to a rather large piece.

  “It’s easy. I’ve got hollow legs,” he winked at her and took a big bite of pie.

  “You should’ve seen those boys when they were teenagers. I don’t know how they didn’t eat their parents out of house and home. Ate like a couple of horses they did.”

  “You used to eat more?” Sam’s eyes widened.

  “Oh, yes child. He’s actually slowed down quite a bit in the last few years.” Betsy smiled.

  Spencer shrugged and grinned at her across the table. It had been a wonderful evening. At first, she’d been a little bit nervous about bringing Spencer to her weekend dinner with Earl and Betsy, but having him there, made it even more special. His eyes sparkled when he looked at her and sent her blood humming. She’d made the right decision about asking him to stay the night. She wanted him. She was scared to admit it could be more than that. For right now, wanting him and enjoying time with him was enough.

  Earl and Betsy waved as Sam and Spencer pulled away from the curb and headed for Sam’s house. As they drove up Main Street, Christmas banners hanging from street light posts waved slightly in the breeze and the shop windows shown with lights and cheerful displays.

  “Thanks again for the invite.” Spencer glanced at her as he slowed down for a stop sign.

  “Sure. It was nice having you there.” She couldn’t look at him for fear she would change her mind, but deep down she knew there was no going back. With every mile, they were getting closer to her house and she was getting more and more tightly wound. Part of her liked the anticipation, but the other part needed a drink. The truck slowed and sooner than Sam might’ve hoped, Spencer pulled to a stop in front of her house.

  “If you want, you can park in the dr
iveway,” Sam said.

  “Oh, okay, if you’d rather I did that.” A crease formed between Spencer’s eyebrows. Usually, when he dropped her off he parked in front of her house to walk her to the front door.

  “Well, I was thinking you could come in for some coffee or hot chocolate.” Sam’s excuse sounded lame even to her own ears. She had no idea what she was doing. She’d never been in this position before and had no idea how to be smooth.

  “I haven’t had hot chocolate in forever. That sounds great.” He put the truck in park at the side of the house. They climbed the back porch steps in silence and went inside.

  “If you’d like, you can go have a seat on the couch and I’ll get it ready.” She flipped on a light and got two mugs out of the cabinet.

  “Sounds good.” Spencer headed for the den.

  He was crazy about her. He rubbed his face with his hand as he sat on the couch. Every moment he spent with her made it that much harder to leave. He wanted to run his fingers through her dark curly hair and touch her neck right at the curve, where he knew her skin was the softest. He rubbed his palms across his pants. Get a grip, Malloy. Patience.

  He loved seeing how relaxed Sam was around Earl and Betsy and wondered if it’s how she was around her own family. In the beginning, she always seemed so reserved and unsure, but more and more he felt he was getting to see the real Sam. The warm inviting person she was now, completely at ease and relaxed. She had changed a lot, but tonight when he’d picked her up she seemed a little on edge. He was glad to see it had passed.

  “Here you go.” Sam handed him one of the two steaming mugs. “Hey, I was wondering while you’re here, if you couldn’t have a look at my bathroom upstairs. I think I want to make some changes that are beyond my capabilities.”