Life had been relatively normal for Sammy Jo, until the dead guy showed up in her car. It could’ve been worse, she supposed. He could’ve been bloody or decomposing all over her recent thrift shop finds. He didn’t even stink.
Hell, she didn’t even notice he was in her car until she went to shove the clothes aside to fit her groceries in the back. The blanket had been tossed over the bags of her latest treasures in the back of her ancient Honda Fit, and he’d been under the blanket. A good shove to make room for her three grocery bags ended up with a black men’s Armani shoe sticking out of the mess, and that’s when Sammy Jo knew something was wrong.
There were no men in Sammy’s life, and none on the periphery that wore Armani shoes. Even her old boyfriend, Reggie, didn’t wear Armani shoes. No, Reggie-the-stockbroker wore bespoke Italian leather loafers. Reggie also wore bespoke suits and French silk ties. Sammy wouldn’t be surprised if Reggie’s boxers were custom made. Okay, that was enough about Reggie. She needed to pull it together. It wasn’t Reggie in her car.
Why was it that Sammy Jo could be so calm and capable when it came to other people’s emergencies, but when it came to her own, she had mental diarrhea? In her job as a 911 operator for the greater metropolitan area, Samantha Josephine Spade was calm, capable, and highly knowledgeable. As a forty year old woman who just found a body stuffed between her Chanel and Versace treasures on their way back from the dry cleaners, Sammy Jo did what every normal person would do.
She screamed.
***
Two hours later, Sammy sat on the back of the ambulance, a blanket around her shoulders, and a bottle of water in her hands. In front of her stood a detective with the Forge County police, Reid Cadmel. She wished he didn’t keep looking at her like she was a criminal, because he was handsome, around her age – or so she was guessing – and there was no wedding ring on his hand, so a girl could dream, right?
“Ms. Spade, could you answer my question?” Detective Cadmel said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear it. I’m still processing the fact that Antoine Dufour was hidden in the back of my car. He’s been all over the news lately,” Sammy said.
“I’m aware,” Detective Cadmel said. “He’s the lead suspect in the disappearance and suspected murder of his wife, Juliette. Which is why I’m here, asking you questions. Do we need to go down to the station?”
“What for?” Sammy asked. “I’m doing my best to answer your questions. I have no idea how he ended up in my car, or where it could’ve happened. I’ve been running errands all over today and didn’t have to get into the back until I got my groceries. Which, by the way, are probably melting all over your evidence.”
“Actually, Officer Reading took them and had Amelia Simmons come pick them up and she’ll drop them at your house,” Cadmel said.
“Oh, fantastic,” Sammy said. “I was hoping he’d get a chance to call her. Melly is a friend – and a coworker – at the Call Center, and Jay has been seeing her for some time now.”
“That’s fascinating,” Cadmel offered dryly. “But I need you to retrace your steps and give me an idea of how long you were at each stop. I also will need you to go to the hospital so they can gather your clothes and scrape your nails for evidence.”
Sammy paled at that and shook her head. “I don’t want to do that. I mean, sure, you can scrape my nails, but this is a Moncler sweater and I can’t lose it to some evidence box. Besides, I didn’t touch the body.”
At that, another man came up to Cadmel and murmured in his ear. He sighed and turned back to Sammy. “Fine. Let the techs here swab your hands and scrape your nails, then you can go home. We’ll be towing your car to the lot to have forensics go over the whole thing.”
“Can I at least get my bag and phone out of it?” Sammy asked.
“Yeah, as long as it’s in the front of the car and not the back,” Cadmel replied.
The tech came over then and swabbed Sammy’s hands, cleaned under her nails, and bagged up everything before they scribbled on the bags and walked away. It made her stomach a little queasy to watch him do that, so she looked away. That they could think she would hurt someone like that? It was just so wrong.
Once he was done, Sammy got to her feet, then handed the blanket to the EMT with a soft, “Thanks, Chris.” She made her way over to her car and waited for one of the techs to back out of the front driver’s seat. “Detective Cadmel said I could get my things as long as they were in the front.”
The tech nodded and stepped out of the way. Sammy ducked into the car, grabbed her phone, the charger cord, her purse, and her Louis Vuitton sunglasses. She opened the console and grabbed her e-reader and put that into her purse as well, then climbed back out.
“If you could take it easy with those bags of clothes – they are all plastic wrapped, so you can take the plastic, but the clothes are special. I had just picked them up at the dry cleaner’s and…well.” Sammy shrugged and the tech gave her a smile.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Spade. We’ll bag up all of the clothes and get them back to you as soon as we make sure no evidence or blood leaked on them. They should be fine,” the tech replied.
“I appreciate that. Oh, and here’s my key fob,” Sammy said as she took the fob off of her key chain and handed it to the tech. “This should make it easier to process.”
“That it will, thank you, ma’am,” the tech replied.
Sammy walked back to where the detective stood and held up her bag. “Got my things. I don’t suppose I can get a ride home when you’re done? Seeing as my only transportation is being kept for a while?”
“You can ask your insurance company to get you a rental while we have the car. The police station has a form you can fill out for compensation,” Cadmel said.
Her face flushed with anger as she spoke, but she made sure her tone stayed calm. “That’s not what I asked. I would like a ride home, please.” She was getting more and more frustrated by the detective’s behavior, on top of the stress she’d already been dealt for the day.
“Yeah, I can get an officer to help find someone to give you a ride home,” Cadmel said and turned away.
“Hey!” Sammy snapped at him and stomped her foot. “I’ve had about enough of your attitude. I’m a victim here, not a suspect. Give me a ride home. Please.”
Detective Cadmel’s eyes flashed as he paced back to her and stood close enough to touch. He glared down at her and clenched his jaw before he spoke. “I will get someone to drive you home. I have a murder to solve. Oh, and Spade? Don’t leave town.”
He spun on his heel then and strode away before Sammy Jo could say anything in response. She stomped her foot again, then pulled out her phone.
“Melly? I need a ride from the crime scene. Asshole Cadmel is keeping my car and refuses to give me a ride home.”
“I’m already on my way. I just put your groceries away. Jay warned me that Cadmel was a bit of a dick. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Hang tight, Sammy Jo.”
“Thank you. You’re the best,” Sammy said and disconnected the call.
She needed her friend, a bottle of wine, and some chocolate. This day demanded the trifecta of stress reduction.
Maybe she’d even add in some ice cream.