Read Revenge is Sweet (A Samantha Church Mystery) for Free Online

away?” Anne asked.
    Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I just woke up in the hospital and Howard was there. He said they found me in Wilson’s car off an exit on I-70. That’s what really scares me, Anne. I know they didn’t just let me go out of the kindness of their hearts.”
    “Good Lord,” Anne said finally. “Sam, I’m sorry, I feel so bad. Here all this time, we thought Wilson was in Mexico and now for all we know he could be dead. We need to call the police.”
    Anne was ready to punch in 911, but Sam reached down and put her hand over Anne’s.
    Sam shook her head. “Wait. I’m not so sure they’ve hurt him yet. We don’t want the police involved, at least not yet.”
    “I don’t know, Sam,” Anne said, unconvinced, her index finger still poised over the number nine on the switchboard, eager to dial.
    “Anne, don’t you see? That’s why they dumped me off on I-70 at whatever time Friday night. They’d figured no one would find me before Saturday and, as long as the work week was over, it really didn’t matter when anyone found me.”
    Anne looked from Sam’s bandaged wrist to meet her eyes. The blue in Sam’s eyes seemed as dark and intense as an approaching storm. They studied each other a moment.
    “Please, Anne,” Sam said. “I expect to hear from them any time.”
    Anne pulled her hand away from the switchboard. “I hope you’re right,” she said and sat back hard against her chair. She folded her hands tightly in front of her. “I feel just awful. Here all this time you were in the hospital and I thought Wilson was relaxing under a hot sun on a sandy beach and working on his tan. I just hope he’s okay.”
    Sam sighed. She turned and looked over her shoulder toward the editorial department. “I guess I’m going to have to talk to Nick.”
    “He’s in a mood,” Anne said rolling her eyes.
    Sam collected her briefcase and turned to leave. She stopped and looked again at Anne, thinking a moment before she spoke. “Please don’t say anything, Anne. Let me talk to Nick first.”
    Anne nodded as the phone rang, taking away her attention.
    Sam walked slowly down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom and scanned the perimeter of the newsroom, cast in semi-darkness. The reporter’s computers were off, as they usually were on Monday mornings when no one had a reason to be in over the weekend. Most reporters came in late on Mondays because of their respective city council meetings they had to cover that evening. Desk chairs were turned this way and that and the room was silent save for the occasional squelch from the police scanner.
    Sam set her briefcase down and unwrapped her scarf from around her neck. She stuffed her hands deep in the pockets of her overcoat as she tried to fight off the sense of doom in the pit of her stomach.
    Wilson’s office was straight ahead of her. The door was ajar and though it was dark, the morning light coming through the window brightened that room. Sam could see the loveseat against the wall. She saw the Mexican blanket that Wilson kept draped over the back of the couch. She allowed herself a small smile, remembering the day Wilson used it to cover her. It was the day she had learned the news about Rey Estrada, a Grandview police officer.
    It was the morning that Jonathan stopped by the newspaper to tell her that Rey had been killed covering a traffic accident on Kipling Street, just north of Colfax Avenue. In addition to his other duties as a cop, her ex husband was also the public information officer for the Grandview Police Department. It was his job to tell reporters like Sam whatever information he could for a developing news story.
    Except the story about Rey was a fabrication, designed to throw Sam off balance, to get her to stop her investigation into the drug smuggling operation. But it wasn’t Sam’s investigation. It had been Robin’s. Robin, with Rey’s help, had been working to expose a drug smuggling operation. Robin had died trying to