Deceived - Laura S. Wharton Page 0,25
for him to get off the boat. “Sam, thank you for checking on the boat, and for breakfast. I think I would like to have some time alone. Do you mind?”
“No. I understand. Just let me know if I can help you.” Sam marveled at how calm she was. Grace under pressure, he noted to himself, as he stepped over the safety lines and walked up the dock to his boat.
With another cup of coffee poured, Sam started cleaning up the breakfast mess. He noticed his coffee swaying a little, then poked his head up in time to see Jenny pulling straight out of her slip, her boat’s turning creating a small wake in the marina.
“She’s going to be just fine,” Sam said as he sipped his coffee. “Brave girl.” Then he returned to cleaning up the galley.
Sam fished the matrix out of his soiled jeans and tucked it into the tidy package hiding in the engine compartment.
Chapter thirteen
Sam headed to the station to file an accident report on the loaner car. As he was finishing up the paperwork, he saw Chief Singleton’s car pull into the parking lot, so he waited.
Chief was all fired up about something, judging by his pace.
“Morning, Chief,” Sam called as Singleton blew past him in a huff. “Any leads?” Sam followed him down the hall to his office.
“Hey, Sam,” replied Singleton as he flicked on the lights. “No, we don’t have anything yet. What’d you do to the car?”
“I found my way into a tree; that’s all. Sorry about that. I’ve filled out the necessary paperwork. Chief, I am ready to get on this case.”
Singleton scratched his head for a minute. “Sam, I don’t think you need to be on it. You and Lee were too close, and I think you haven’t had enough time to get an impartial view of things. You still have several days off coming to you.”
“Chief, I have to do something. I can’t just sit around and wait.”
“Well, then, why don’t you focus your energy on something else? I have a big mess on my hands with the fire at the Golden Sun Hotel complex. The owner says it was deliberately set, but our guys are backed up so they can’t track anything down. If you feel up to getting back to work, can you jump on that one?”
“Sure, Chief, but I want to help on Lee’s case, too.”
“Fine, but focus on the Golden Sun case first. We got enough guys on Lee’s. Can’t really spare any more, even if it’s you.” He dismissed Sam with a wave of his hand and grabbed the phone to indicate their unscheduled meeting was adjourned.
Sam was mad to be put off that way. The more he thought about it, the more it got to him. He headed to the impound lot, signed his own car out, and screeched away. The car was clean. Not a trace of what had happened was left. But Sam still drove straight to Vann’s, a used car lot on Highway 17, just north of the Wrightsville beach turn off. A salesman attacked as soon as Sam stepped out of his truck.
“Howdy! My name is Bob. How can I help you today?” Bob slicked down a stray gray hair over his bald spot and reached for Sam’s hand.
Sam declined to shake and, instead, started talking about his vehicle. “I would like to trade this for something else. It’s got about 50,000 miles on it, runs great, and is clean, inside and out,” Sam forced himself to say.
“You have the title on it?”
“Yep. What have you got?”
Bob smiled broadly and replied, “Whatever you need.” He put his arm around Sam’s shoulders and steered him through a row of used cars of various makes and models. Sam gravitated toward a red Dodge Ram 1500, and Bob pounced on his interest.
“This here is a fine truck. What did you say your name is?”
“Sam McClellan.”
“Very good, Sam; this is the truck for you. I knew you were a truck man the second you drove onto the lot,” Bob beamed.
Sam looked back at his own Blazer. Well, duh.
He looked at the interior of the Ram and then under the hood while Bob started it up and roared the engine for effect.
“May I drive?” Sam asked.
“Why, of course.” Bob jumped out eagerly and ran around to the other side, his seatbelt fastened before Sam even had the driver’s door closed.
Sam pulled out of the parking lot and headed north on 17, flooring it as