Courage & Resolve
1.11 - The Bitterness Within
“I can’t believe that woman thought she had the right,” Samson fumed, pacing back and forth in his hotel room. “She went ahead and told our children her own biased viewpoint about the issues we had in our marriage. Those two aren’t even old enough to understand!”
“Woah, woah, slow down, Samson,” Stefan cut in. “I know you’re angry, but that isn’t important right now, understand? What did she say about joint custody of the kids?”
“She refused,” Samson snorted. “Said they’d grown up without a father, that they hated me, so they sure as hell wouldn’t want me as a father now.”
“I don’t want to say that I told you so, but…”
“Oh, just go ahead and say it Stefan!” Samson yelled. “Nothing you’ve got to say can hurt my more than how much Amelia just did. I got sober for her. Sober for her and the kids. And she thinks she has the right to throw all that effort back in my face?”
“Should have just sued for sole custody,” Stefan said casually. “Say that she’s too busy with work to be an adequate mother to her two very young children. Say that her being so busy that she has to leave them with a batty old woman is completely unacceptable. I’m sure that it wouldn’t be hard to do a little digging to prove that her elderly neighbor isn’t fit to care for her children…”
“I dropped the lawsuit,” Samson said quietly.
Stefan sat up very straight. “You did what?”
“I dropped the lawsuit!” Samson said, louder. “I was so confident that Amelia was still the same woman I fell in love with that I assumed she’d give me joint custody without even a protest!”
“You can be really stupid, you know that, Samson?”
Samson stormed over, grabbed Stefan, and slammed him against the wall, holding him up in a chokehold. “Don’t. You. Ever. Call. Me. Stupid! Understand?” he snarled.
“Yes,” Stefan squeaked.
Samson removed his hands from Stefan’s neck, and he fell to the ground, where he sat for a few moments, visibly shaken and rubbing his neck.
Samson stepped back and crossed his arms. “Well? Have any other ideas?”
Stefan slowly climbed back to his feet, and sat back down in the desk chair. “Um…”
“I’m not paying you ridiculous sums of money for you to sit here with no ideas,” Samson said threateningly. “You promised me you’d get my kids back, as a competent lawyer. But instead, all you’ve done is have me meet with my ex wife so she’d feel threatened and, as a result, ruin my kid’s image of me.”
“That’s because my plan was going to require a bit more… finesse… than you going in there, somehow convinced that a woman you haven’t seen in nearly a decade was going to feel exactly the same as the last time you two interacted. If we’d stuck to my original plan, I’m sure we could have eventually dug something up on Amelia that would force Beauchamp Law to cede your children back to you. But, unfortunately, that’s no longer possible.”
“Are you calling me stupid again?” Samson snarled.
“No, no! You must have misunderstood. Just… I’m going to need some time to think of a plan b, understood?”
“You’d better be quick about it.”
“Um… maybe we could force Amelia to tell us things that would allow us to prove that she’s an unfit parent?”
Samson shook his head. “We’re not doing anything involving Amelia. Somehow, that news would end up reaching Cory and Jamira, and I can’t have them hate me more than they already do.”
Stefan nodded, then the two lapsed into silence for a few minutes.
“Okay, so, right now… I’m thinking that old woman Amelia is such good friends with might be just the perfect woman to exploit…” Stefan muttered thoughtfully. “Might just have to start considering less conventional methods…"
Months passed, and soon enough, Stefan had done enough research to have come up with a suitable plan involving Jo. The day before they were finally going to make their move, Stefan met with Samson at the local library.
“It may have taken awhile, but utilizing certain connections I still had with people at Beauchamp Law, I was able to get ahold of this,” Stefan said, pulling out a manilla envelope.
“What is it?” Samson asked, snatching it from him.
He thumbed through various notes and architectural drawings of a house.
“The floor plan, cross sections, and builder’s notes on Jo’s house,” Stefan explained.
“And… how does this help us?”
“Look here,” Stefan said, pointing to the cross section of Jo’s house. “Her house has a hidden basement. The only access is through a trap door, which I doubt an elderly woman like Jo would have ever discovered. So, in that case, Amelia wouldn’t know about it either. While we’re still going to grill her for information about Amelia, as we originally planned, we can utilize this basement to make sure she isn’t found. We’ll have as much time as we need to get her to crack.”
Samson nodded slowly. “Smart, Stefan. Really smart.”
Stefan smiled. “Thanks, Samson.”
Finally, the night Stefan and Samson had been waiting for arrived.
Once it got dark out, they showed up outside Jo’s house, standing behind a fence that kept them just out of sight of the road, and the house across the street. Once there, they waited for the lights inside to finally shut off.
While standing there, Stefan caught whiff of an odd stench. At first, he thought it was from Jo’s trashcans, as, unfortunately, they were also on the other side of the wall Samson and Stefan were standing behind. But eventually, he recognized it.
“Samson…” Stefan whispered. “Are you drunk?”
“No!”
The moment Samson opened his mouth, the stench got even more apparent.
“Really, Samson? Tonight? When we’re about to break into Jo’s house?”
Samson didn’t respond, and the two fell back into silence.
At around 10pm, the lights inside Jo’s house finally shut off.
Samson and Stefan exchanged a meaningful look, then slowly crept up her the stairs to her porch, careful to avoid being illuminated too heavily by the street lights. The last thing they wanted was to be spotted by the family across the street, who apparently had a nasty little girl that would definitely tattle on them, or, even worse, be spotted by Amelia or one of her kids.
Once they got to the front door, Stefan turned to Samson, and gestured to his gloved hands. Samson held up his, and nodded. Once he was sure of their gloved hands, which would prevent them from leaving fingerprints, Stefan pulled a screwdriver out of his back pocket, and got to work unscrewing the doorknob. After a good minute, it finally fell off, leaving just a hole. Stefan reached his hand through the hole, and fumbled around trying to find the deadbolt. He pulled his hand back, and shrugged.
“I can’t reach it!” he whispered.
“This is stupid,” Samson whispered back.
He pushed Stefan out of the way, took a step back, then slammed his entire body into the door. The door shuddered. Samson took another few steps back, and slammed it even harder. This time, the door swung wide open.
“See? Look at how much easier that was.”
Stefan shook his head quietly, but didn’t raise a fuss as he quietly followed Samson into the house.
The two looked around the intricately decorated house, trying to spot anything that could in anyway resemble a trapdoor to the unfinished basement that sat just below the house.
Stefan pulled out the floor plans again, and walked over to a bookcase that sat in the corner of the house. He carefully pushed the bookcase out of the way, trying his hardest not to make a sound. Once he’d done so, he pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight, and shined it on the floor. It was only then that he could see the faintest outline of a trapdoor built into the floor.
Stefan gestured Samson over, then he carefully lifted it. The only thing visible was a set of cement stairs that descended into darkness. Stefan frowned, gestured for Samson to wait, then hurried over to Jo’s kitchen. Once there, he rummaged through his drawers and cabinets until he found some candles and a lighter he could use to illuminate the darkness of the basement. He doubted it would have lighting, seeing that the original builders had chosen to hide it instead of finishing it.
Candles and lighter in hand, Stefan led the way into the basement. During a few terrible minutes of darkness, he lit the candles, and placed them strategically around the room to provide the most illumination possible.
Once that was done, he turned to Samson, finally able to speak now that they were out of the living room where they could have been heard.
“Okay. You go get Jo, I’ll wait here.”
Samson nodded, and headed back upstairs.
As Stefan waited downstairs, he began to pace anxiously. He’d be lying to himself if he tried to believe that this was right. Everything about this rubbed him the wrong way. Samson did pay him well, but, beyond that, he felt like he had to carry this out to the end. Both for his vengeance against Amelia, and for the incredible amount of time he’d spent trying to work this out for Samson.
But… he didn’t wish Jo any ill will. From what he’d been able to gather, she was an incredible woman, devoted to her friends, and completely okay with doing so without any personal benefit to her. The last thing she deserved was what she was about to go through.
As Stefan paced from concrete wall to concrete wall, he couldn’t help but feel… fear. He knew how violent Samson could be when he got emotional, and while he could take it, he wasn’t sure that Jo, who wasn’t a man like him, and was elderly, wouldn’t be able to take it.
Stefan heard sudden shouting from the floor above, and the sound of things falling and crashing. Sounded like Jo was putting up a fight. Which he felt would be nothing but a bad thing for her.
After a good minute, the yelling upstairs stopped. A few seconds later, Stefan heard footsteps on the stairs as Samson descended, carrying Jo over his shoulder, one of his hands over her mouth. Once he reached the back of the basement, he dropped her on the ground, not making any effort to be gentle.
Regardless, Jo stood up, and dusted herself off.
“I don’t know who either of you are, and I honestly don’t care,” Jo said boldly. “I’m going to call the police, so I strongly suggest that you both leave while you still can.”
“Your phone’s upstairs, lady,” Samson said. “You’re not getting past the both of us, making your way upstairs, and calling anyone. Here’s my suggestion: shut the hell up, so you can answer our questions without anyone getting hurt.”
“Hey. No one needs to get hurt. I’m sure that Jo here will comply, right?” Stefan said, cutting in.
Samson abruptly turned around to face Stefan. As he talked, he kept walking forward, forcing Stefan to walk backwards into the wall on the far side of the room. “You may have gotten me this far, and I do appreciate that, but now, I’m going to take over, understand? Amelia is my ex-wife, I should know what questions to ask.”
“But the legal system won’t just grant you custody for any old reason, Samson, you need me to help out here!”
Samson pressed a finger into Stefan’s chest . “The only thing I need you to do right now is stay quiet. We’re not playing bad cop good cop.”
Stefan nodded, afraid to speak again. He didn’t like drunk Samson one bit.
Samson turned back around, and walked over to Jo.
“So you’re Samson,” Jo said, looking him up and down. “I’ve heard so many terrible things about you from Amelia. And you back there… Stefan, definitely. Of course the meninist would find another man to work with to bring a powerful woman down.”
Stefan rolled his eyes, ready to say something snarky despite what Samson had told him, but Samson spoke up first.
“Did I ask you to speak?” Samson snarled.
“No. Just thought you two should know that I know exactly who the both of you are, and that it’s going to be easy to report you both to the police the moment this is over.”
“…whatever, lady. We’re here for one reason and one reason only: tell us everything you know about Amelia. Especially the bad parts.”
Jo snorted. “All that I’m going to tell you is that she’s an incredible woman who works hard to provide for her children. She’s noble, and I honestly cannot believe that she once was at a point where she was willing to lower herself enough to be married to a man as despicable as you, Samson! The drugs, the alcohol, the abuse, and now you’re resorting to this instead of going through official channels? It’s nothing but sad.”
Samson clenched his fists, and spoke through clenched teeth, but seemed to be able to control his anger. “I asked you to tell me something bad about Amelia. We’ll keep you down here until you do. I don’t care if you get hungry, or need to use the bathroom, I deserve to be a father!”
Jo shook her head. “No you don’t. And go ahead. Leave me in here. I’m not telling either of you anything. I’ve lived a long life, and this isn’t going to be what forces me to betray my friends. And, if I die because of your mistreatment, your chances of even dreaming of being a father will be gone, Samson. You sure you want to risk it?”
Samson suddenly yelled, and grabbed Jo’s shoulders. Yelling still, he picked her up, and threw her across the room.
Once he stopped yelling, Samson walked back over to Jo. “I can do that again. You sure you want to risk that?”
Jo didn’t move.
“Samson…” Stefan spoke up hesitantly.
“Get up! We’re not finished!” Samson shouted. He kicked Jo, and she didn’t even flinch.
“Samson!” Stefan yelled.
“What?” Samson yelled back. “I told you to shut up and stay quiet!”
“Jo. I think she’s dead.”
“Really? Really? That’s all you had to tell me? I… I… what?”
Regaining himself, Samson turned back to face Jo.
This time, he noticed the slowly spreading pool of blood near her head.
Samson sank down onto the floor. “Forgive me, forgive me,” he muttered rocking back and forth. “I’m never going to be a father now, Jo was right…”
“We don’t have time for this, Samson!” Stefan said firmly, walking over to Samson.
Samson didn’t say anything in response.
“If we want to avoid jail, we need to take care of this and get out of here, now,” Samson said, walking closer to Jo. “And sorry, Samson, but I’m not going to jail for your own ineptitude. So help me here, alright? We need to construct a reason for why she might’ve died.”
Samson watched wordlessly as Stefan knelt down next to Jo, pulled off one glove, and placed now gloveless hand in the pool of blood. Then, he got up, and after a careful analysis of the staircase, he walked over, and spread some on a step near the bottom, on the side closest to Jo’s body. He applied some more blood to this spot a few more times, placed the glove back over the bloody hand, and blew out all but one of the candles placed around the room. Then, he walked back over to Samson, and pulled him up to his feet.
“Now, it’s going to look like she fell down the stairs. Or, at least it will on first appearance,” Stefan said. “I’m sure any competent investigator will figure out that the blood on the staircase was placed after a little investigation, but it will buy us more than enough time to get out of here while we still have the chance. Understand?”
Samson nodded slowly.
Stefan blew out the last candle, then headed upstairs, Samson trailing slowly behind him.
Once they got to the main floor of the house, Stefan turned to Samson. “One second,” Stefan said.
Trusting that Samson would stay in the same trance he’d been in since killing Jo, Stefan hurried into her room, and scanned it for her phone.
And sure enough, there it was, on her bedside table.
He dialed 911, and waited for the operator to pick up.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I was just walking down the street, and I heard the sound of a woman screaming? I’m afraid something might have happened to her.”
“Okay, just give us the address and wait for us outside the house, sir.”
Stefan gave her Jo’s address, then hung up, and headed back out into the living room, where Samson was waiting.
“We’ve got to go. Now,” Stefan said.
Samson nodded slowly, then the two quickly made their getaway, stealing away into the night.