Chapter Twelve
"What are you doing here? It's after 10. Shouldn't you be at work?"
Mark turned at the disgruntled voice, bearing a steaming cup of hot coffee. He settled the offering at the small dinette table beside his friend, then stepped back to lean against the counter.
"It's a slow schmooze day. My first appointment isn't until 11:30." He took in Sam's pale, blood shot countenance. His clothing looked slept in, his shoulders were slumped, and even his hair looked tired.
"Have I told you lately that you look like hell?" he asked, gesturing toward the coffee. He was beginning to have second thoughts about the subject he wanted to bring up.
Sam offered little more than a grunt before he dropped his keys onto the table and settled in the seat in front of the coffee. "Good. I wouldn't want to look any better than I feel." He picked up the cup and took a careful sip.
"Beth's off to school. Her lunch account has been recharged - you owe me 20 bucks, by the way. She was fed a nice breakfast at Mickey D's. Speaking of which, make that 25 dollars."
Sam jerked his head toward the cupboard. "There're oatmeal packets up there. Fruit and cream variety pack."
"Didn't seem fair to make her eat reconstituted oatmeal when she was so worried about you," Mark replied, his tone serious. "Even if it was her favorite flavor."
The cup paused partway to Sam's mouth. "I'll talk to her," he said, studying the cup for several moments before he set it back down on the table. He turned toward Mark and waited.
Mark felt another stirring of guilt. Exhaustion was in every line of his friend's face. "The glass company come?" he asked.
"Yeah." Sam pulled folded papers from his pocket and placed them on the table alongside the keys. "They're there now. The new glass will be sealed. Security company recommended it. They're also installing motion sensors in all of the offices. "
"That's good."
Sam waited a beat. "What's on your mind Mark?"
He thought again of putting the discussion off until later, but then decided against it. Now was as good a time as any. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened and he hadn't even tried. There was no good way to start, so he just blurted the question out.
"Are you going to do anything about this?"
"Like what?" Sam's voice had an edge to it. "What do you suggest I do?"
"You need to let the police help you, for one thing," Mark replied, matching his tone. "This thing here is serious business. Someone broke into your office and trashed the place. Intentionally. A week ago you were mugged and knocked unconscious right outside of the building. If it wasn't for the 2nd shift over at Nortech, who knows what might have happened to you. You've got Beth to think about, Sam."
"Don't you think I know that?" Sam shot back, angrily. "Don't you think I know that I'm the only reliable parent that she has?"
Mark swallowed guiltily. He hated to add to his buddy's troubles, but he had to do this. He cared for him too much to simply leave it alone. "No, you're the only parent she has. So you need to start acting like it. Tell the police what your suspicions are. Get a restraining order. Tell them that Sandra is threatening you and Beth and your livelihood."
Sam blew out a breath and shook his head.
Mark threw up his hands in frustration. "You can't do that can you? After everything that's happened, you can't just accept what she's become."
Sam pushed up out of the chair and walked to the window on the far side of the room. Running a hand along the back of his head, he stared out, silent and unresponsive.
A suspicion grew in Mark's mind. "You're not thinking about getting back together are you? Please tell me that you're not going to let her weasel her way back in."
Sam stiffened and turned. "I'm not even going there with you. I'm not some love sick guy who is sitting around pining away for his ex. But I don't hate her. Those things that she did was because of the drugs."
"She had a wild streak before the drugs," Mark pointed out.
"Yes, but she was still within reason. You know how she was. She would blow up once and then it would be over. She'd move on to something else. Besides, if I turn her in, and she's on parole, she could end up back in prison again. I would be the one sending her back to jail."
Mark sighed in exasperation. "You're defending her again. I can't believe it. This was a criminal offense. She would be the one sending her back to jail. You have to make a stand. Because the next time you don't do what she wants, it might be something worse."
Sam looked away. "What if she didn't do it?"
Mark blinked. "What do you mean, what if she didn't do it? This morning on the phone --"
"I know what I said on the phone," Sam cut him off. "But what if she didn’t do it?" He turned an intent gaze on his friend.
Mark stared back, noting a hint of real fear in his friend's eyes. It chilled him. "What happened?"
"These. . . incidents are a little extreme, even for Sandra. And there's something you don't know. Last night, before I left the office, I saw someone watching me through that same window. It was a man, and he was just standing there, staring and waiting. What if he was waiting for me and Nortech's 2nd shift to leave?"
Mark's worry deepened to new levels. If Sandra hadn't done these things, then the possibilities had just taken a scary new turn. He searched for an answer. "She's been in prison. She's made new friends, learned new tricks. Maybe she convinced one of them to do it."
"I need to know for sure before I do anything."
Mark didn't have a problem with that. He'd only wanting for his friend to not rollover and play dead. He did see one small glitch, though. "I don't think she's simply going to come out and confess."
"I just need to talk to her. I'll know if she's lying."
"You sure about that? She got everything else by you." The words were out before he could stop them. He'd already started to apologize when Sam brushed it away with a wave.
"I'll know," he insisted.
"Okay." Mark gave in. "You know where to find her?"
Sam shook his head. "No, but I'm a reasonably intelligent man. I've got the Internet. And besides, she's just gotten out of a halfway house. I'll let my fingers do the walking and see what I can come up with." The beginnings of a tired smile lifted one corner of his mouth. "If all else fails, I'll call Deb Mason. She knows everything."
Mark chuckled. Deb Mason was the biggest gossip in all of St. Augustus. She was the one who had told him that Sandra was out. Sam usually steered clear of her at all costs.
"Sounds like you have a plan." He moved toward the dining room for his jacket. "I've got to go to work. Call if you need anything."
Sam followed his exit. "Right. I will. And thanks Mark."
Mark shot him a quick smile. "No problem. What are friends for?"