Money Can Be Deadly (Sage Gardens Cozy Mystery Book 2) (4 page)

With that he spun on his heel and stomped away. Samantha stared after him, just as flustered. Whenever she and Eddy discussed politics or police it did not go well. Samantha bit her tongue to keep from saying a few more words about what she thought of his opinion. She knew better. Once Eddy was done with a conversation he was done.

Once inside her villa Samantha hoped to be able to relax. But she felt uneasy. The tea cup she had left behind when the police arrived was still waiting for her. She picked it up and dumped the contents into the sink. She had planned to drive into town for some groceries. She was going to stop off in a little thrift shop to look for something to brighten up the hallway.  It was hard to simply continue with her day after such a jarring experience. She knew she couldn't go shopping, her mind was filled with blood and drugs. She wasn't sure if she would be able to rest. All she could think about was Simon and how scared he probably was.

Samantha was not someone that assumed everyone was innocent. In fact more than once she had proven someone was guilty of something. She often felt a bit of frustration towards the people around a perpetrator who acted as if he or she was innocent even though the evidence obviously indicated otherwise. However, when it came to Simon there was no question in her mind. She didn't think he had anything to do with the murder. The only problem was the pesky issue of the murder weapon being found in Simon's toolbox. It struck Samantha as a little strange that he even had a screwdriver, but she assumed some of the tools he used, such as the leaf blower, might require it for repair, or for when he hung up flower pots for the residents. So, had someone taken it out of his toolbox? Why would someone go to the trouble of breaking into the garden shed just to get a screwdriver?

Nothing about the murder made sense, right down to the body being found in the tall grass. Why had the murderer left his body in such an easy place to find? It might have taken longer if the police weren't looking for the drugs, but it still wasn't a place to leave a dead body. It led her to think that the crime might have been one of passion. Perhaps the murderer hadn't planned anything and had instead just become enraged. Maybe in a panic the murderer had simply abandoned Vince's body. If that were the case then hopefully it wouldn't take long to figure out who had actually committed the crime.

Samantha shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts and began preparing a late lunch. She needed a chance to clear her mind, and sleep wasn't going to do that. On a whim she decided to call her friend, Jo. She could fill her in on the crime that had taken place, and have a sounding board for her frustrations with Eddy. When she called Jo, she almost didn't expect her to answer. Although Samantha considered Jo a friend, the jury was still out on Jo's opinion about her. Jo was a hard woman to get to know, and a harder woman to befriend. To Samantha's surprise, she did answer.

“Hi Sam. I was wondering when you would get around to calling me.”

“What do you mean?” Samantha asked.

“I heard about the murder. I knew you'd be calling to fill me in sooner or later.” She laughed a little. Samantha was relieved to hear that she was in a fairly good mood.

“I was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch.” Samantha gripped the phone tensely. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake by having Jo over. Although Samantha had a lot of respect for the woman, her friends, Walt and Eddy, didn't always share the same opinion. They were more interested in Jo's past than the present.

“I'd love to. I'll bring some wine!” Jo hung up before Samantha could argue about the wine. The truth was Samantha could really use a glass. She put together a salad to go along with some chicken for lunch. Within a few minutes Jo knocked on the door.

“Come on in!” Samantha called. She carried the food from the kitchen to the dining room table. Jo opened the door and stepped inside. Samantha was always a little dazzled by the sight of Jo. While Samantha had more of a simple beauty, Jo's looks were quite exotic. Between her olive skin and her thick, black hair she looked as if she could have walked right off a runway, even though she was in her sixties just like Samantha was. While Samantha's copper-red hair had a smattering of gray in it, Jo's was pure black. While Samantha's bright green eyes were crinkled by smile lines, Jo's face still had a youthful tautness to it. The woman was in immaculate shape as well. Despite her younger looks, it only took one look into her dark, haunted eyes to make her seem much older.

“Hi Sam.” Jo placed the wine on the table and smiled at Samantha. “So, are you ready to give me the details? Did you solve the crime yet?”

“Not even close,” Samantha said shaking her head. She walked back into the kitchen to get two wine glasses. When she returned, Jo had already opened the wine. She poured glasses for both of them. “The only thing I know for sure is that the police have arrested the wrong man.”

“Oh really?” Jo raised an eyebrow. “Are you championing the underdog, yet again?”

Samantha took a sip of her wine. “I guess you could say that. But I know I'm right. They arrested the gardener, Simon.”

“He seems harmless.” Jo frowned and sipped her own wine. “Why did they arrest him?”

“He had the murder weapon.” Samantha cringed.

“Well, that's a pretty good reason. But it certainly doesn't make him guilty. How did you find out why they arrested him?” Jo eyed her curiously.

“It's a very long story.” Samantha sighed and closed her eyes a moment. “Have some lunch.”

Jo began eating her salad. She was still watching Samantha when Samantha opened her eyes again.

“So?” Jo prompted.

“So, I found this backpack filled with drugs…” Samantha began.

“Wait, what?” Jo set down her fork. “What kind of drugs?”

“Cocaine, I think. I don't know for sure because before I could turn it over to the police it disappeared. When I left it outside because the bag was wet someone took it.” Samantha took a bite of her salad.

“Samantha, this isn't good. You shouldn't be involved in any of this.” Jo frowned. Her voice was heavy with concern. “Does anyone else know that it was you that found the backpack?”

“Only the police and Walt. I suppose it might have gotten around Sage Gardens, but I'm not sure. I think the news of the murder probably swept away any rumors about a backpack. Oh, and Eddy, of course,” she added as an afterthought.

“Of course.” Jo's eyes narrowed a bit. “Well, I think you should be very careful about who you tell, Samantha. You really should stay out of this. Understand?” She met Samantha's eyes across their glasses of wine.

“Yes, I do. But why?” Samantha frowned.

“Trust me, Samantha, getting involved would be the worst thing that you could do now.” She took the last bite of her salad. “Be glad that someone took the backpack.”

“But, what about Simon?” Samantha asked. “Am I supposed to just let him rot in jail?”

“He wouldn't be the first, and he won't be the last, besides I’m sure the police will discover the truth.” Jo finished her wine. “This is not a crusade you should make your own, Samantha. It’s too dangerous when drugs are involved. Don't say I didn't warn you. Thanks for lunch.”

She stood up from the table. Samantha looked up at her with a mixture of confusion and a hint of anger. She had expected Jo of all people to understand. Jail was a horrible place for an innocent person. But then Jo hadn't exactly been innocent. She had been an infamous cat burglar that had given the police the run around for many years. Maybe that was why she didn't feel sympathy for Simon.

“You're welcome,” Samantha finally spoke very quietly. She didn't stand up from the table. She didn't show Jo to the door. She felt as if all of the wind had faded from her sails.

“Remember what I said, Sam,” Jo said. She stepped out the door and closed it behind her.

Alone once more Samantha wondered if her friends were right. Should she stay out of it? Her stubborn nature told her not to. But her stubborn nature had gotten her into plenty of messes before. Samantha finished her lunch and then sprawled out on the couch. She decided to take Eddy's advice and at least try to rest a little. She yawned as she stretched out. When she closed her eyes she saw an image of the backpack floating in the water.

Samantha woke up to her phone ringing. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She had finally fallen asleep in an awkward position and it was difficult for her to sit up at first. She fumbled on the coffee table for her cell phone. As she answered she didn't even take the time to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” she mumbled.

“Samantha, I need you to come over.”

“Who is this?” Samantha asked groggily. She blinked a few times to try to get her mind to focus.

“It's Eddy,” he sounded a little insulted.

“Oh sorry, Eddy, I was napping. What did you need?” She wiped her hand across her eyes and yawned.

“I need you to come over. I want to show you something.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes.” Samantha hung up the phone. She felt fairly groggy still. “That wine must have really done its work.” She shook her head and stood up. As she got her balance she wondered what Eddy might have to show her. She was sure it was about the case. She grabbed her purse and slid her shoes on. She was out the door before she could even think about the state of her hair or her wrinkled clothing. She realized that she must have slept for a few solid hours as the sun was beginning to set.

In the twilight, Samantha noticed that there weren't any other residents of Sage Gardens out walking around. Normally in the warmer weather there were people everywhere on the grounds. It seemed as if they had all been scared off by the news of the murder. Even with a man in custody they were being more cautious. Samantha understood why. It was easy to feel vulnerable when age had begun to limit your ability to defend yourself.

Samantha often found herself off balance when she used to have very sure footing. As she walked towards Eddy's villa, she heard a splash in the water near her. Her stomach tightened. Just the reminder that the water was there was enough to bring back all the stress of the morning. She had been able to sleep away some of her thoughts about the murder, but now they all came flooding back. She remembered Jo's warning about what she was getting herself involved in. Samantha frowned and quickened her pace towards Eddy's villa.

As Samantha walked, she heard yet another splash. She shuddered at the sound. Her feet grew heavy, preventing her from walking much further. A crazy thought occurred to her. Could it be Vince trying to get her attention from the grave? She turned uneasily to look in the direction of the water. The tall grass rippled in the wind. Bold yellow crime-scene tape whipped and wobbled around the spot where Vince had been killed. That was not where the sound of the splashing was coming from.

As she stared, she heard another splash. She turned towards the sound. It was further along the water's edge, in the opposite direction of Eddy's villa. She knew that she should just continue towards his villa, but her curiosity was now piqued. Not only that but she had a tendency to want to confront anything that made her afraid. Her father had told her when she was just a little girl, that things aren't so scary once you stand up to them. So, she had always done her best to stand up to whatever frightened her.

Without really deciding to, she began to walk in the direction of the splashing sound. It sounded much too small to be a fish. It sounded as if someone was tossing something into the water. Sage Gardens did allow fishing in the lake, however it was not the season for it just yet. A few of the residents had been known to toss in a line even when they were not supposed to. Samantha guessed that might be what she was hearing. But she still wanted to see for herself.

As she slowly approached the area of the shore that she had heard the sound coming from, she noticed a man reclining in a chair. He looked quite comfortable. He held one hand in a loose fist. The other was poised in the air, about to throw something. As Samantha watched, the man threw a pebble into the water. She heard the sharp splash of it landing in the water. She immediately felt foolish for being disturbed by the sound. As she turned to walk away, the man shifted his gaze towards her. Only when she saw his face, slightly out of the shadows, did she realize who it was. Jacob, the maintenance worker who did odd jobs around Sage Gardens. She felt relieved that he wasn't just some vagrant that had somehow wandered into Sage Gardens.

“Hello, Samantha,” Jacob said. He locked eyes with her. Samantha was surprised that he knew her name. She hadn't really spoken to him since he was only hired recently and she didn't often have a job that needed to be done in her villa that she couldn't do herself. As she studied him, his lips curved into a slow smile. “Not so wise to be out so late alone.”

Samantha felt an icy wave wash over her. Something in his voice made her think that he was threatening her.

“Are you working?” Samantha asked. It wasn't until after she said it that she realized how rude she sounded. “I mean, do you often stay so late?”

“I'm just taking a little time before I head home. I need to rest a bit. It's a long drive. I'm sorry if I bothered you.” He smiled again. This time his smile seemed genuine. “Do you want me to walk with you, wherever you are going?”

Samantha immediately warmed to him at the offer. It wasn't often that men of the younger generation still remembered the simple courtesies that their fathers and grandfathers had displayed.

“No, thank you. I can make it on my own.” She returned his smile and began to walk away.

“It's not safe you know, to be out all alone,” Jacob's voice carried along her spine. She glanced back over her shoulder almost expecting him to be pouncing on top of her. Instead he was casually reclining in his chair. He tossed another pebble into the water. Samantha stared at him a moment longer. She knew that she was being paranoid. Jacob had probably heard about the murder and was offering her good advice. She turned and hurried towards Eddy's villa. She wasn't sure if Jacob's words had spooked her, or if she was just starting to think he was right. When she reached Eddy's villa she knocked hard on the door.

A moment later the door jerked open.

“Samantha, what's wrong?” Eddy asked. His eyes filled with concern as he took in the sight of her. Samantha realized that she must have looked terrified. She pushed past him into the villa.

“Sorry, I got a little nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” Eddy looked at her with wonder. “I didn't think that was possible.”

“Please Eddy, I don't want to talk about it,” Samantha mumbled. She made sure that the door was closed tightly behind her. Even though she had no real reason to be frightened, she still felt very on edge.

“Hey, whatever you want.” Eddy studied her for a moment longer. “I know better than to argue with you.”

“Ah, if only that were true.” Samantha managed a laugh and shook her head. “So, what did you want to show me?”

Eddy hesitated as if he might want to press the topic of what she was afraid of during her walk. Then he turned to his kitchen table. “Do you remember those pictures we took of the footprints?”

“I remember. One by my side door, and one by Vince's body,” Samantha said.

“I had a hard time seeing them clearly on my computer, so I decided to have them printed out.” Eddy pointed to the photographs on the table. “I had it done at the police station so I could have the highest quality photographs I could get. A few things are clear to me now.”

“What things?” Samantha asked.

“Look at these pictures.” Eddy stared down at the photographs on the table.

“You had them blown up?” Samantha asked. She rested her hands on the table and leaned closer.

“I did. Because something about them was really bugging me. This first one is from the ground behind your villa, where the backpack was taken. This one is from the ground beside the bus driver's body. I didn't think too much of it at first, I knew that anyone could have walked in that area. Now, that I've looked at them more closely and measured them, I am certain that they match.” He frowned. “I wish I could have used the program at the police station to analyze them, but my retired cop status doesn't always get me far enough. If my buddy had been working in the lab I could have gotten it, but he wasn't in.”

“I don't think that you need a program to show that they are the same.” Samantha pointed to the similar curve. “It's pretty clear.” Samantha furrowed her brow. “Do you think that they are Simon's?”

“Not unless he has a magic shrinking pill.” Eddy smiled a little at his own dry humor. “Look how small those feet are. They can't be more than a size ten tops. I'm pretty sure that with Simon's gigantic feet he has to specially order his shoes.”

“You're right.” Samantha nodded as she recalled the time she had nearly tripped over Simon's feet. He had been tending the small garden on the side of the office building and just as she had rounded the corner he was stretching one leg out. They had managed to avoid a collision, but she had gotten a very good glimpse of the size of his foot. “He has to be beyond anything a regular store would sell. So, what do you think? Does this eliminate him as a suspect?”

“I think it makes him unlikely and I didn't like him for it in the first place, but no, I can't say it rules him out. What we have here are footprints in a heavily frequented area. If we were to look hard enough we would probably find yours in both places as well. But you're not the killer.”

“Oh! Maybe a witness?” Samantha's eyes widened. “What if someone saw the crime, but is too afraid to come forward?”

“That's possible.” Eddy picked up the photographs from the table. “But that doesn’t explain why they were behind the bushes by your window. Although, maybe the backpack had nothing to do with the murder.”

“Maybe.” Samantha nodded.

“What I am fairly sure of is that if we find the owner of these shoes, we might be able to find more information about the owner of the backpack and about this murder.”

“Shall we have a fitting for everyone that lives in Sage Gardens?” Samantha laughed shortly. “I don't think anyone is going to go for that unless we stage some kind of ball.”

“Oh, the idea.” Eddy shook his head. “You know how much the women around here like to dress up.”

“I do.” Samantha grinned. “I wonder if we could get Walt to do the measuring.”

“Could you imagine Walt with all of those stinky, sweaty feet?” Eddy laughed out loud. “I think he would end up passing out before he measured the first foot.”

Samantha also laughed as she pictured Walt fainting in front of a big, sweaty foot. It was just what she needed to shake off the fear of her walk to Eddy's villa. She felt much better as her laughter died down.

“Okay, so we certainly can't measure everyone's foot in Sage Gardens. Besides, we don't know for sure if the killer is someone who lives in Sage Gardens. Just because the body was here, doesn't mean that it couldn't have been an outsider who committed the crime.” She tapped her chin lightly. “No, I think we can assume that whoever's footprints these are is likely someone who did not live here. I've never seen any of the residents having trouble with Vince. In fact the only out of the ordinary thing I recall seeing was when he was flirting with Lily.”

“Lily? The new office assistant?” Eddy questioned. “She seems nice enough. I've never noticed them flirting, but then I'm not sure I even know what flirting looks like.”

Samantha guessed that he hadn't the faintest clue, but she kept that to herself.

“I asked Walt to come over and have a look, too. You know with his attention to detail he should be able to tell for sure if they match.” Eddy walked over to the front door just as someone knocked. He opened it and Walt stepped inside.

“Samantha.” He nodded to her with a hint of nervousness. Samantha offered him a warm smile to put him at ease.

“Here are the pictures.” Eddy gestured to the photographs on the table.

“They look the same to me. What do you think, Walt?” Samantha looked over at him.

“They don't just look the same. They are the same.” Walt pointed out a faint pattern in the mud. “That's from the sole of the shoe. I would say a shoe with a fairly worn down sole. The wear patterns match. There is no way two different shoes would have the exact same wear pattern.”

“You can tell all of that from this?” Samantha asked. “That's amazing.”

“Thank you,” Walt replied smiling with genuine warmth. “Does anyone have any ideas about who these shoes might belong to?”

“They're small enough to possibly be a woman's,” Samantha observed.

“Some men have small feet.” Eddy glanced down at his own shoes.

“Really, there isn't enough of an outer rim to know the exact size of the shoe.” Walt pointed to where the edge of the footprint faded into the soil. “It is possible that the shoe is a few inches longer, though certainly no more than that.”

“So, it still rules out Simon.” Samantha felt a sense of validation. “I knew he couldn't have been the one who did this.

“I wouldn't say that it rules him out entirely. We don't even know if these footprints are connected to the murderer. What we have are assumptions that we are trying to connect together, but that does not equal evidence.” Eddy tapped his finger lightly on one of the photographs. “But at least we have something.”

“If the killer isn't Simon as the police suspect, do we have any idea who it might be?” Walt asked.

“Not really.” Samantha shook her head slowly as she thought about it. “I've never noticed anyone arguing with Vince. To be honest I never noticed Vince much. But I would have if I saw him fighting with someone.”