The Poet (Samantha Jazz Series #1) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,52
the trash, and fill my cup with coffee. Steaming brew in hand, I sit down with a copy of “Sonnet 60,” and write out each line of the poem between sips, looking for a meaning beyond my initial reaction to identifying it last night. A quote on the SparkNotes website says, “This sonnet attempts to explain the nature of time as it passes and as it acts on human life.”
While I don’t completely agree with this assessment, human life ties back to a greater power, to a god. He thinks he’s a god.
I do a quick read of both verses left with the bodies. First, the one left last night with Dave’s body: My verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Then the one left with Summer’s body: Who laugh in the teeth of disaster, Yet hope through the darkness to find, A road past the stars to a Master.
My mind lands solidly back where it started. The Poet believes that he’s a god.
He judged Summer and Dave unworthy of living, which brings me back to the contrast of the two men. Summer enjoyed poetry. Dave hated poetry. But they both had a connection to poetry, be it with love or hate. What about Roberts? Technically, he was connected to poetry by way of this case, but he’s not dead and delivering a message by verse.
Frustrated, I head into the bathroom to shower, and by the time I’m dressed in my standard pantsuit, this time with an emerald green silk blouse, I have a thought. Perhaps they both offended The Poet. That’s all that makes sense.
I wish desperately that my grandfather, who was once an expert on the topics of literature and poetry, was clear-minded enough to discuss this with me, but he’s not. Those days are lost, and I decide I need a few scholars’ input. I pull up my email and do some research before I shoot off a few messages.
I’m just packing up my briefcase to leave when Lang calls. “You’re not here with a killer running loose. What the hell, woman?”
I glance at my watch and sure enough, it’s nine o’clock, when I’d normally be to work by eight. “I got distracted by the case file, and what the hell was that with Wade last night?”
“I plead the fifth. Are you coming to work? We have an army of helpers right now.”
“Have we found out where he got the cyanide?”
“One of our new tech guys is working on it,” he replies. “Are you coming to work?” he repeats.
“I’ll be there soon.” I hang up.
He calls back. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I didn’t get to run this morning. That’s how I think. You know that. So I’m going to the firing range.”
“I’ll meet you there.” He hangs up.
I call back. “Damn it, Lang.”
“I’m meeting you.”
“I’ll come to the office.”
“Come now or I’ll come and get you. We have an appointment to meet with Dave’s landlord after lunch. We’re trying to get some kind of camera feed around his house but coming up dry. His house sits off the road too far.”
Of course it does, I think. “I’ll be in the office.”
I hang up again and head to the door, where I happily retrieve my weapon and place it on my person. A few minutes later, I’m in my car, and with Dave’s house so near, it’s impossible not to drive by the crime scene. I idle in front of his house, police tape drawn in all directions. One conversation changed his future. One conversation with me. They say the killer goes back to the scene of the crime. I feel like the killer. He made me feel like the killer.
Anger ripples through me and I pull around and start driving.
Lang calls yet again. “Where are you?”
“Jesus, Lang. I’m on my way. Work the case. Is Officer Jackson there?”
“He is. That shit that went down last night still bugging you?”
“I think we need to be careful. Hazel suggested that a good place to get cyanide would be overseas where drugs are easily accessed. She also suggested someone ex-military might have stockpiled cyanide. Jackson is ex-military.”
“Wait. Now you think he’s The Poet?”
“Not really, but I’m not prepared to ignore any possibility, are you?”
“No.” His voice is tight. “I’m not.”
“And can you make sure he turned in all the DNA samples from Summer’s crime scene to forensics?”