The Bachelor (Chandler Brothers 1)

“That’s gratitude for you,” he muttered, back to his moody self.

She eyed him carefully. “Roman’s been gone a week. Care to tell me what tonight’s theft was about?”

He shook his head from side to side and exhaled an exaggerated sigh, as if to say she was dense and he knew it. “I got the boy into trouble. Had to get him out, didn’t I?”

“You took this last risk for Roman?” Was there no end to the surprises Samson had inside him?

“Haven’t you been listening?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “I did this for you. Because you smile at me when no one else does, except your mother the few times she comes to town. And because you give me errands for money, instead of charity. How else do you think I knew who bought the darn panties? I mailed ’em for you, didn’t I? Besides, Ms. Chandler’s good to me, too.”

“Raina?”

Samson nodded, looking at the pavement once more. “Pretty lady. Reminds me of someone I used to … never mind. But the two of you seem to care about Roman. What kind of name is that anyway?”

“No more unusual than yours. Now stop stalling.”

“Women are so damned impatient.” He sighed. “Isn’t it obvious? With Roman out of town, one more pair of panties gone would clear his name.”

She blinked. “That’s very commendable of you. I think.” Charlotte didn’t know what to make of this tale. Though things made more sense now. She understood how the thief knew which houses to target—Samson did many of her mailings and hung around town, listening without being noticed. “Just tell me you’re through. No more stealing.”

“’Course not. It’s getting too hard, with busybodies like you snooping around. Now, if you’re finished with the third degree, I have some business to take care of back home.”

She didn’t question what. As he said, his life was none of her concern. “I’m finished. But I want you to know …” How did she thank a man for committing unwanted panty thefts on her behalf? “I appreciate the thought behind your acts.” She nodded. That sounded right.

“Then you can do me a favor in return.”

His words held echoes of Fred Aames. “I’m not making you your own pair of panties,” she said. She meant she wasn’t making him a pair for the girlfriend she doubted he had, but thought better of correcting herself.

“’Course not. Besides, I got six other pairs I don’t know what to do with.”

She sucked in a breath. “I suggest you burn them,” she said through clenched teeth.

“There’s still that favor I want.”

Was he moving on to extortion now? She figured he wanted her promise of silence about his escapade tonight and all the other nights he’d broken into homes to steal panties. “I won’t turn you in to the police,” she said, taking another stab at what was on his mind. Though she couldn’t leave Rick with an unsolved crime and hadn’t a clue what she was going to tell him.

Samson waved his hand in the air as if he couldn’t care less. She knew better. “You realize people don’t pay much attention to me unless they’re running the other way or ignoring me. I can sit beside someone and hear all ’bout their sex life because they think I’m too dumb to know what they’re talking about.”

She held out her hand, intending to offer comfort, but he scowled and she immediately pulled back.

“But I hear other things too. And I heard your mother and father talking the other day. They’re hurting.”

She stiffened her shoulders. “This time it’s none of your concern,” she said, turning his words back on him.

“True enough. But seeing as how you always give an old man you barely know a break … I think you oughta do the same thing for your folks.” He started across the street, in the opposite direction of town, toward the ramshackle shack where he lived. Without warning, he pivoted back to her. “You know, some of us don’t have parents or kin.” He turned back and resumed his lonely walk home.

“Sam?” Charlotte called after him.

He didn’t turn around again.

“You’ve got friends,” she said loudly.

He continued his journey home and didn’t acknowledge her words, though she knew he’d heard them.

He left her alone, touched as well as confused by his actions. She already knew she’d have to deal with Russell, as much as she didn’t look forward to that day. But right now it was Samson who concerned her. What in the world would she tell Rick?

A laundry list of words collided in her brain: obstruction of justice and accessory to a crime being just some of them. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn Samson in. And her role as lookout tonight had nothing to do with it. His crimes were harmless, the thefts were over. She believed him when he said tonight was the end. She owed the police department some kind of explanation that would let them close the case, yet she needed to keep Samson safe.