Delayed Justice Read online

  Delayed Justice

  by

  Constance Bretes

  Delayed Justice

  Copyright © 2014, Constance Bretes

  ISBN: 9781940744087

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: February, 2014

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  Can two former lovers set aside their differences and work together to bring a criminal to justice?

  Five years ago, Sami Parker’s life was changed forever when she was injured in a bombing incident which left another young woman dead—a woman who happened to be the fiancée of Sheriff Makeeta Robertson, Sami’s former lover. Initially, Sami was a suspect in the crime, but the sheriff was forced to release her due to a lack of evidence. The town, convinced that she got away with murder, turned against her.

  At last an arrest has been made and the sheriff needs Sami’s help to get a conviction, but can she trust him? Although wary and cautious, she wants to see this man brought to justice and wants to clear her own name once and for all. But the awakening feelings she has for Makeeta bring yet another problem. Then there’s the secret she’s kept for the last five years—one she may not be able to keep any longer, and one that may change the outcome of the trial.

  Content Warning: contains some sexual content

  Acknowledgements

  This book would never have been possible without the help, love, and encouragement of my husband and my sister.

  I wish to thank:

  My sister, Wendy Carpenter, who has supported me through all my writing processes and encouraged me to submit this book to the publisher.

  My publisher, Pamela Tyner, from Beachwalk Press Inc. for accepting the book and publishing it.

  My Mid-Michigan Romance writers of America group who encouraged me, patted me on the back, and jumped for joy with me when the publisher accepted my book!

  And most importantly, my husband, Jim Bretes, who believes in me.

  Chapter 1

  Sami heard a vehicle pull into her driveway, and she got up and looked out the window warily. She recognized the sheriff cruiser immediately. The person driving it was Makeeta Robertson, the sheriff of Big Horn County, but he’d brought company. A woman got out of the front passenger seat, and a deputy got out of the back seat.

  Sami had a pretty good idea why they were there. They either wanted her to identify the man they’d picked up, maybe even testify against him, or they wanted to arrest her as an accomplice in the case.

  She wasn’t going to answer the door, and they’d better not break into her house! If they wanted information from her, they would have to contact her attorney.

  Terrified at the thought of being arrested, her natural instinct was to hide, so she went and hid in her smaller bedroom. Her desk and computer stood against the outer bedroom wall, under the window, and she slid down under the desk and waited for them to leave.

  * * * *

  Sheriff Makeeta Robertson eyed the scenery as he got out of the sheriff cruiser. He’d brought Dani Spencer, the district attorney, with him, along with a deputy. The logs of her cabin have seen better days, he thought. Looking around, he noted that the driveway up to the garage had ruts in it and there was no grass growing in the yard. The dry land contained mostly tumbleweeds, white wheat, and prickly pear cactuses.

  The hot, early autumn sun beat down from the sky as he stepped onto the wooden stair. The stair creaked under his weight, and he knocked at the rickety screen door. They waited outside, sweat breaking out on their foreheads, and then Makeeta knocked again. Finally he hollered out, “Sami, are you in there? We need to talk to you.”

  Makeeta motioned to his deputy to go around to the back and see if there was a back door and-or any movement in the house.

  The deputy disappeared around the side of the house, returning a few minutes later. “No answer at the back door, and I looked into the windows and didn’t see anyone.”

  Makeeta pulled his cellphone out and called Sami’s number. It went to her voice mail. “Sami, this is Makeeta, with the district attorney, Dani Spencer, and a deputy. We need to talk to you. If you’re in the house, please open the door. Otherwise, call my number as soon as you get this message so we can make arrangements to meet with you. There are some developments in the case with the bombing at Glacier Pharmacy five years ago, and we need your assistance.” Makeeta ended the call and clipped the phone back on to his belt.

  * * * *

  Sami heard them get into the cruiser and back out of the driveway. She stayed under her desk for a long time before she finally ventured out. She walked to her cellphone and listened to the message. So, they need my assistance, Sami thought. We’ll see about that.

  She went to her back door and looked out, and saw Shadow Dancer sitting on a log at the top of her hill, his two dogs by his side. Five years ago, Shadow Dancer had sold her the property and the house she was living in. He was also her neighbor and her friend. She grabbed two dog treats from the cupboard before she walked out and gingerly climbed the steep hill to talk to him. The wonderful smell of the pines assaulted her nose as she ventured up the hill to meet him. She had a hard time walking today on the limestone soil; her limp seemed more noticeable.

  “Hello, Shadow Dancer. What brings you to this side of the mountain today?” she asked.

  “Hello, Sami. I saw the sheriff cruiser for Big Horn county driving by and thought I’d better come over and see what’s going on.”

  “Yes, they were at my place.” Sami forced a smile.

  “I saw that. You didn’t answer your door?”

  “No. They left me a voice mail saying they need to talk to me and need my assistance. I will do nothing without my attorney present,” Sami said defensively.

  “I heard they may have a suspect for the bombing at the pharmacy where you were injured.” Shadow Dancer cocked his head.

  “That’s what they say,” Sami replied.

  She sat down next to Shadow Dancer and patted the dogs on their heads, giving them each a treat. She and Shadow Dancer had become good friends during the past five years. He would often walk over the hill from his place to hers to sit down and chat or just go on a hike that would bring him by. When he visited he always brought along his two Alaskan Huskies.

  “I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to them, but you know, Sami, you’re just putting off the inevitable. They will be back.”

  “I know. I just don’t want to have them at my place. I’d rather have my attorney present and meet at the sheriff or district attorney’s office. I don’t want them contaminating my home.” They sat there for a while, listening to the wind rustle the pines and enjoying the heat of the day.

  Sami sustained some serious injuries from the bomb explosion. There was a jagged scar across her left cheek. Her arms were also scarred as well as her back and her legs. She walked with a limp because a beam had fallen on her and broke her hip.

  “Sami, you’re awfully young to be out here in isolation with no one but me to talk to. I’m not complaining, and I don’t mind the company, but this isn’t normal for someone your age.”

  “What friends I had turned on me. I’m scarred and no man would ever want me. I’ve accepted that, and I’m happy here. Did I tell you that my agent accepted my latest book? With some mo
difications, of course.”

  “No, you didn’t tell me that. I’m glad. You’ve been working on that book for a while now, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. It’s harder to write something that’s autobiographical.” Sami rested a few more minutes, then looked over at Shadow Dancer and smiled. “Well, I guess I better get back down and get some sleep so I won’t be so tired when I get up and start writing again.”

  “Okay. Be careful going down, and I’ll talk to you later.”

  She stood, gave the dogs a pat on their heads, and then walked slowly down the hill.

  * * * *

  When Shadow Dancer arrived home his telephone was ringing. He grabbed the receiver and said, “Hello.”

  “Granddad, how are you?” Makeeta asked.

  “Fine, I’m fine. How are you?”

  “I’m doing well. I didn’t know that you sold your property up over the hill to Sami Parker.”

  “Yes, I did, about five years ago.”

  “Do you communicate with her much?” Makeeta asked.

  “Why do you want to know that?”

  “I’m trying to get in touch with her. She’s not answering her phone or her door.”

  “Well, all I’m going to say is that your best bet is to contact her attorney and go from there,” Shadow Dancer answered quietly.

  “Oh, anything else you can tell me?” Makeeta asked.

  “No,” Shadow Dancer answered abruptly.

  “How is she?”

  “As well as can be expected I guess,” Shadow Dancer said hesitantly.

  “The last time I saw her, there were bandages all over her face and different parts of her body, and her hip was in some sort of a cast.”

  “Yes, I remember, and you took her immediately from the hospital to the station to interrogate her,” Shadow Dancer said accusingly.

  “It’s not like I had a choice, Granddad,” Makeeta answered defensively. “What does she do out there in the wilderness anyway?”

  “You’ll have to ask her when you talk to her,” Shadow Dancer responded curtly.

  “Okay, thanks, Granddad, I’ll talk with you soon.”

  “Yes, I assume you will.”

  Chapter 2

  Sami liked to sleep during the mornings and stay up all night to write her novels. Her brain seemed to be more creative at night. Although it was usually nice and quiet during that time, last night a storm had rolled through, and she hated storms. They reminded her of the day she was released from the hospital and the sheriff picked her up and took her directly to the station to interrogate her. It was storming that day, and she’d remained affected by storms ever since. Usually after the storms, when she went to sleep, she had nightmares.

  In the midst of a deep sleep, she heard a shrill noise. The persistent, annoying sound woke her from a sound sleep. She reached for her cellphone. “H’llo?” she mumbled.

  “Hi, Sami. This is Gail. How are you?”

  “I’m doing fine. I just woke up.” Sami stifled a yawn, trying to get her wits about her.

  Gail Sample was her attorney and somewhat of a friend, one of very few people Sami talked to. Gail had represented her a number of times with her book contracts. Gail had also represented her five years ago when the bomb exploded at the pharmacy and the sheriff initially thought she was involved with it.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Sami. Would you like me to call you back?”

  “No, that’s fine. What’s up?”

  “I got a phone call from the district attorney’s office. They got a major break in the bombing case, and they would like to talk to you about it.”

  “Yeah, they were here a few days ago, but I wouldn’t answer my door. I won’t talk to anyone without representation,” Sami responded with a big yawn.

  “Well, that’s good thinking. They want to see you tomorrow. Is that possible?”

  Sami thought for a few minutes. “Will you be able to be there with me?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there.”

  “Okay. What time tomorrow?”

  “The district attorney wants to see us at eleven. How about you and I meet somewhere for breakfast first and discuss the situation? That way we’ll be prepared.”

  “That would be great. Is there someplace quiet and out of town where we could meet?” Sami didn’t want to go into Milne City and have people immediately recognize her and start throwing stones at her again.

  “Hmm, let’s see. . . I know, there’s a small restaurant in the town of Clive, we could meet there. Would that work for you? You can’t miss it, since it’s right on the main road and you can go through the town in a less than a minute.”

  “I know where that is, I’ve ate there before. Yes, that will work,” Sami replied, more awake now.

  “Okay. So, how about we meet at nine-thirty?”

  * * * *

  The next morning Sami met with Gail to prepare for their meeting with the district attorney.

  “Hi, Sami, how are you?” Gail asked when Sami arrived and sat down across from her in a booth at Smithy’s Coffee Shop, an old diner located in the tiny town of Clive.

  “Hello, Gail. I’m doing fine, and you?”

  “I’m doing pretty good myself.”

  The waitress came over to take Sami’s order.

  “Cup of coffee please,” she told her.

  “So how is the new book coming along?” Gail asked cheerfully.

  “It’s coming. I just got some feedback yesterday from my agent that I need to do some rewrites on a few scenes, so I’ve been editing and rewriting, editing and rewriting, and editing and rewriting.”

  Gail laughed. “It sounds like you’ve got a good agent.”

  “Yes, I do, but she keeps trying to convince me to do book signing events and to talk to the public. I don’t want to do that, and I don’t want to be recognized. I like writing under my pen name.”

  “Your last book, Murder in West Bronx, became a best seller, didn’t it?” Gail asked.

  “Yes, it won lots of national awards and praise. I have a sequel planned for it after I finish my current book. People really love a murder mystery, and I have all kinds of evil deeds going on inside my head.” Sami laughed.

  “So Sami, tell me, how are you really doing emotionally and physically?” Gail asked, concerned.

  “I’m doing okay. I’m not looking forward to this business with the district attorney.”

  “Do you get out of the house very often?”

  “Oh yeah, I get out. I went to Billings last week to get some food and supplies. I like to start early getting stuff in for the winter, because once the snow starts falling, it’s hard for me to get out.”

  “I don’t understand why you moved so far away. It’s like you’re isolating yourself from the world,” Gail remarked.

  “I know, but when I’m alone, especially during the winter months, I do my best writing, because it’s my escape. During the last five years, I’ve put out four national best sellers.” Sami took a sip of coffee.

  “Do you ever go into Milne City?”

  “Once a week, at about midnight or so, I go to the post office and get my mail from the mailbox. I go to Billings for all my groceries, clothing, and so on.”

  “It’s farther to Billings for you than it is to Milne City,” Gail stated.

  “I know, but I’ll be damn if I’ll spend any of my hard-earned money in that town again.”

  “Not everyone in the town hates you, you know I don’t,” Gail replied.

  “Yes, I know. You’re the only friend I have from there. God, I hate going to that town today.” Sami looked around to see if anyone noticed her being there in the diner. The owner of the diner remained occupied and busy talking to other customers and laughing. The waitress didn’t seem to notice her, and neither did the customers.

  “I wanted to meet with you before we walk into the district attorney’s office to go over the facts and make sure that you’ve told me everything and that there isn’t any information that you’re holding
back.”

  “Holding anything back like what?” Sami asked.

  “Anything that might be pertinent to the case. Are there things you haven’t told me?” Gail asked.

  Sami had debated the pros and cons of revealing some information that no one else knew. She didn’t want to share it with anyone, not even her attorney, as she knew the information could show itself as a motive against her. But she best tell her attorney this little secret anyway, in case it was used against her.

  “As you know, Makeeta and I had a brief affair. He broke off his relationship with me because he decided that he would honor his parents’ wishes to marry Carol, someone from his Native American tribe, and have children. I was pregnant at the time, but I didn’t tell him.”

  Gail raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that. Was Makeeta the father?”

  Sami knitted her eyebrows together. “Yes. No one knows it, except now, you. Do you think I should tell the district attorney?”

  Gail thought for a few minutes. “Yes, I do. I believe you need to be up front with her.”

  “But what if they decide I’m somehow involved in the bombing?”

  “We’ll wait and see if the district attorney thinks you’re involved. If they do, then we’ll say nothing. If not, we’ll tell them about the pregnancy, and if they then decide you were somehow involved, we’ll tell them nothing further. From the sounds of it, I don’t think they suspect you of involvement, but need you to identify and testify.”

  Great, Sami thought gloomily.

  * * * *

  The courthouse was an old brick building from the 1900s located in the center of the town. It was square shaped and looked like something out of the gothic ages. Sami couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked in the building it was so long ago. They took the elevator up to the third floor to the district attorney’s office. They opened the door and walked into an area where two receptionists were working.

  “Can I help you?” one of the receptionists asked.