Tainted Waters

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

"Okay, Mom. It's time to go. All right?" Sam shifted from foot to foot, she'd only had her shoes on for about an hour and a half, minus the thirty minutes while the service was on, but her feet were already killing her. She looked down at the two-inch heels her mom wore all the time and wondered how she did it.

"Not yet, dear. We've known this family for a long time. They've owned the land at the lake as long as we have. We're going to say hi and give our condolences."

She trailed after her mom, who stopped and talked with pretty much every one of the two or three hundred people in attendance. The crowd was a little overwhelming and of course, her mother knew all of them, or at least seemed to. Doing her duty, she said hi as she trailed behind. Finally, tired of the same thing, over and over, she stood back far enough so she wouldn't be included in the conversations. It got a little old telling everyone she was looking for a new job, which she was sure most already knew about, or lie and say she was doing great.

As she looked around at many of the familiar faces, she saw Cathy's dad in the parking lot lighting a cigarette. Her friend would be so ticked at him for doing that. He'd told her he'd quit. It made her wonder if he was still gambling, too. This would just add another strain to their already poor relationship. Cathy blamed him for scaring her mom off when Cathy was a young child. The only parental figure she'd really had a close tie to was now sitting in a jar. The week she finally went on vacation after years of not is the time her grandmother, the one person she loved beyond reason, dies. She'd wanted to come home, but her dad and Sam had talked her out of it. Sam had promised her friend she'd be there for both of them. It seemed so odd that Cathy had asked her to keep an eye on her grandmother and she passed away, almost immediately.

I really am a jinx.

A shiver shook her to her core. The day she'd been out at the lake with DD, she really should have dropped in. Mrs. MacNeil was one tough lady and had always seemed like she would live to be a hundred or more. Would her stopping by have made any difference? Probably not, but it still depressed her. She didn't like coincidences like that or having something like that happen when she was supposed to be responsible. The black cloud hanging over her seemed to be expanding.

Cathy hadn't blamed her which had gone a long way to ease her guilt. They'd had a good talk. They'd laughed. And they'd cried. They'd spent costly minutes on the phone reminiscing about the summer weekends as teenagers they'd spent out there with Grandma Cora. Sam remembered one time when they'd swum across the lake, from Cora's house to Sam's family cabin. It was about half a mile across the middle of the lake. It had been a dare. Sam hadn't been to her cabin, couldn't even go there, in the ten years since her dad's death. Her mom wouldn't have been happy about it either. They'd made it halfway before they tuckered out. Sam had gotten a cramp in her leg and was having trouble staying afloat. They'd yelled until they were hoarse. Grandma Cora had shown up with her canoe, pulling them both into the boat. Sam had been prepared for her to take a strip off them. Her mom sure would have. Instead, Grandma Cora had taken them on a tour of the lake, making them paddle the whole way. She showed them all the places that they could swim across and, when they got tired, where it was shallow enough to stand up. If they'd moved fifteen feet to their right, they would have found a sandbar. There were several such immersed islands traversing the lake if they knew where to look.

After that, Cathy and Sam had made it their mission to find as many of the sandbars as they could. They'd spent hours swimming back and forth, finding those spots but they were much more careful and never went without their lifejackets again. But they never made it across the lake to Sam's family's cabin.

"We're sorry for your loss, Della. Your mom was a wonderful lady." Mom clasped Della's hand, the middle of the five kids.

"Thank you, Mrs. Overton. Mom always spoke highly of you. Thank you for helping her with her gardens, the last few years. She just …" Della looked away as tears flooded her eyes. "Loved her vegetables and being busy."

"She was a wonderful woman. I'll miss her. She helped me a lot when my husband, Sam, died."

"She was amazing. She taught me so much." Samantha gave Della a hug before turning away. Her throat closed up, and her eyes filled with tears. Blinking several times, she took a few shaky breaths before she felt calm enough to talk to anyone else. Turning, she realized her mom had moved off and was chatting with another sibling, Corrine, someone who was still chasing her youth and looking ridiculous doing it. She was one of Cathy's aunts that Sam didn't like. And she was also Sam's recent ex-boss's secretary.

The crowd was a mix of people from every walk of life. As she scanned the group, she recognized some, smiled at them but moved on. When her gaze landed on Reardon though, she couldn't hold back her look of disgust. The last time they'd met immediately came to mind. The first week on the job at the newspaper, she'd decided to make this work for her; she'd gotten the brilliant idea to interview the lawyer. She figured that if she could get the scoop on the guy, she'd immediately become the hottest new reporter. That sure as hell hadn't happened. He'd tattled to Harry and she'd been told in no uncertain terms not to interview people he hadn't approved. Thanks to the jerk, she'd been given the lame jobs.

Before she could stop herself, she headed over to Reardon. His bodyguard stepped in front of him when she was still about ten feet away. "Really, you're not man enough to face a woman. I don't know how you sleep at night." With that, she turned and walked away, ignoring the few people who were staring at her wide-eyed. Another reminder she'd just done something stupid.

Again, she hadn't known when to shut her mouth. The man was sleazy. People might think he was something because he rarely lost in court and he loved to flaunt his money, but no one ever seemed to question if he was dirty or not. In her mind, there was no question he was.

Pissed off at him for who he was and at herself for succumbing to the urge to tell him off while at Cora's funeral, she really wanted to leave. But one glance at her mom chatting with a group of people let her know that wouldn't happen soon. If her brother and sister had stuck around after the service maybe they could have taken her home. Since that hadn't happened, she looked around for someplace to hide. There was a big weeping willow tree at the edge of the lawn. She walked over to it and stood beneath the sagging branches. It sheltered her from the blazing sun and from anyone who might want to talk to her. It was while she was standing there that she really noticed who was at the funeral. Many city officials, teachers from the school named after Cora MacNeil, friends, family, and Sam's old boss. She ducked behind the tree, as she was sure her ex-boss would make it public she'd been fired and then give some elaborate, full-of-crap story about it. Which wouldn't have really bothered her, but she knew it would upset her mom. She watched as he made his way through the crowd to the side of the building. He knocked; a door opened, admitting him.

Why wouldn't he have gone through the front? The big wide-open front doors?

~~~~

"Hello, George."

"Hello, Harry. Did anyone see you come in?"

"No, I was careful. Even if they did, I could say I was doing a story on this funeral or something."

George stared at the man he'd personally groomed. This alliance served him well. Or it had. He smiled. "Can I offer you something to drink?" He moved over to what looked like an elaborate and intricately designed and carved feature wall. With a quick press on an obscure point, a panel swung down, exposing a myriad of liquor and mixes.

"Scotch, if you have it, please." Harry walked over to the plush, leather sofa and eased himself down, only to plop backward. "Couch is damn low, George."

"Sorry. You're right. I should replace it. I just don't seem to have time to do anything about it."

Harry waved it off like he was swatting a fly. Keeping his back to him, he poured the drink while allowing a momentary reaction of clenching his teeth as his whole body stiffened. His eyes darkened. Turning, he put on an amicable smile as he walked across the plush black carpet which muted the sound of his steps.

After handing the drink to him, George stepped back and leaned against his oak desk. "What can I do for you? It's kind of a busy day for me."

He took several gulps before answering. "Yeah. I seem to have a bit of a problem."

"Oh?"

Harry looked around suspiciously before leaning his head forward, his bulk didn't bend. He spoke in a hushed tone. "I know I'm not supposed to talk to you about this but …"

"What is it? You sound stressed, what's going on?"

He finished his glass of scotch. "It would seem that Mr. Ozz isn't happy with me."

George's eyes widened. "Oh. What did you do?"

"I didn't do a damn thing. That little b***h you had me hire is who did something. She has caused me nothing but grief."

"You mean, Sam? I'm so sorry, Harry. I was just doing a favor for an old friend. I didn't think it would be that big a deal."

"It damn well is. I fired her ass a few days ago, but it would seem that isn't enough for him. I need you to talk to him."

"Oh no. I can't. I really don't want to get involved."

He waved his empty glass indicating he wanted another one. George immediately complied. "You are involved. It's your fault she turned out to be such a busybody and stuck her nose where it doesn't belong. You need to get me back into his good books."

"I don't know why you think I could do that."

"When he hired me and set me up as CEO to the newspaper, he got you to show me the ropes—how to look like I was born for that role, how to act sophisticated, how to handle myself with dignity and confidence. You made sure that everything worked out. I know you have connections and are well liked in this town. You are a respected businessman. You make things happen." He held out his glass for a refill. "I need you to fix this problem. He makes things …" Harry leaned forward or as much as his bulk would let him and whispered, "Go away. And I don't want to be one of those things."

"I really don't want to get involved. It might be me he makes go away."

"I … he … I think my life is in danger."

"Oh. I think you must be mistaken. What makes you think he wants to kill you?"

"That's what he does."

George stood up, removing his suit jacket. His muscular, fit body evident in the tailored shirt. "I think you must be mistaken. I know he's a little tough, but he wouldn't—"

"He would, dammit. I need you to stop it."

"All right. I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Good."

"So how did she take being fired?"

"Who, that broad? She got pissed, but I let her know that she was finished and that she needed to keep her trap shut about anything she'd learned or I'd sue her ass and splash all kinds of stories about her in the paper. That seemed to shut her up."

"Oh, I heard she didn't take it too well." He purposefully glanced at Harry's tie.

"She didn't. But I made it clear I had power. She didn't question it. Left. I had Security follow her out."

This version made him want to smile, but he didn't. "Good, Harry. Good. You know what. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. I'll talk to Mr. Ozz. I'll let him know you did your best. And that Sam is a loose cannon who might create some problems. She won't get another job around here."

"Appreciate the help, George. I mean you really owed me, anyway."

He missed the arched eyebrow and instant flash of anger that were gone and replaced by an amicable look, once he'd finally leveraged himself off the couch. The scene rather amused George.

He stuck out his hand, George grasped it, allowing him to have the stronger grip. He released him and patted him on the back. "I've got this. You've done pretty good in the last ten years."

After Harry left, George thought about all the changes that were happening. And realized it might be time for some more.