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

bring the information to light. Sam was just finishing the business her sister had started.
    Sam remembered the day she attended Rey’s funeral, watching Rey’s wife and two little girls following his casket to the front of the church. A promising law enforcement career and a young, happy, fulfilling life cut short by greed and the incomprehensible evil that can live in the hearts of some men.
    The police scanner came to life with the disembodied voice of a dispatcher sending a cruiser to the scene of a multi-car accident. It took Sam away from the unsettling thoughts of what had happened to Robin and Rey.
    She forced herself to look toward Nick’s office. His light was on and the door was closed. A thin strip of glass that extended , floor to ceiling, next to the door allowed for a partial view inside the office. Nick was in talking on the telephone, leaning heavily on his elbows. He was sitting away from his desk enough that Sam could see his paunchy stomach protruding over his pants. He was holding a ballpoint pen between the tip of his index finger and thumb and shaking it.
    She could feel her lip curling upward in disgust for Nick Weeks. The feeling was mutual. Neither cared for the other and the tones of their dislike and lack of respect weren’t subtle.
    Sam knew that Nick thought of her as a has-been, lazy, sloppy reporter. It showed in the assignments he’d throw her way and how he would edit her copy. The outcome of Sam’s big, breaking story, however, did nothing to improve Nick’s opinion of her. Sam’s success with the story only seemed to intensify his anger at her. Several days after her story had published, Sam saw Nick in Wilson’s office. She heard a snippet of his conversation as she was going up the stairs. He told Wilson he thought Sam took too much credit for the story, that it was Robin who had done all the hard work and had paid dearly for it.
    She collected her briefcase. She thought about knocking on Nick’s door, to let him know that she was here, but decided to go to her desk. Having to deal with Nick Weeks would come soon enough.
    Her desk was at the end of the newsroom, just before the kitchen. The walk through the length of the long, open room gave her time to prepare mentally for her encounter with Nick. The police scanner was alive with a sudden burst of activity. Now the dispatcher’s voice was radioing another cruiser to the same accident.
    Before Sam could put down her briefcase, Nick opened his office door. He came as far as the door jamb and called out to Sam. “In my office,” he said, retreating back inside.
    Sam muttered under her breath and let her briefcase fall to the floor with a heavy thud. She kept her eyes on his office door as she threw her coat and scarf over the back of her chair. She started toward Nick’s office, but stopped for a moment to consider what she might say.
    She sat down in her chair and began to massage her temples, trying to sort through her thoughts. She knew she could not go into Nick’s office on the defensive, with her dislike for him glaring.
    A conversation she and Wilson had once about Nick Weeks came to mind. She smiled a little as she heard Wilson’s sonorous voice, rich, soothing like chocolate. She was surprised that remembering the sound of his voice made deep stirrings in her chest.
    “Don’t pay too much attention to what Nick thinks of you, Sam,” he had said. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that there will always be those people in this world that you can never please, no matter what you say or do?”
    “Not my mother , but my grandmother,” Sam remembered saying to Wilson.
    “She probably told you something similar to what my mother had once told me; that some people are just that way and nothing you will ever say or do will ever change the way they think of you. So don’t die trying. You’ll see over time that it’s not worth the effort or the fight.”
    Armed with Wilson’s words, Sam pushed herself up from her