Chapter five

It is a tiny house. There's nothing to it but four walls and a roof. Its light blue paint is chipping from the wooden frame. The shutters rest next to the window with only one hinge. The lawn is green; however, there are many brown patches spotting the grass.

Samantha stands on the curb next to her car. She stares at Theresa Romano's house. She doesn't particularly like this house, but it seems like it provides comfort for its occupant. She takes a deep breath. She feels the nerves dance inside her. She doesn't perceive Theresa to be a threat, but she perceives Theresa knows something about Martin or is involved. She slowly walks to the front door tapping on it. She hears the floor boards creak under bare feet followed by the creaking of the door.

Samantha stands erect with her feet together and her hands clasped in front of her. She stares at Theresa who is smiling. Samantha immediately notices that Theresa is not deterred by her visit because, without a word, Theresa opens the door wider and gestures for Samantha to enter.

No words are said, but the silent thoughts are shared by both women. Samantha steps into the living room and looks around the house. The now dipping sun casts long shadows throughout the house. The living room is small and extends through the width of the house. It is decorated in reddish oak furniture. The living room comes to a pointed doorway which Samantha assumes leads to the only bedroom in the house. To the left of the door is a small kitchen barely big enough for two people to stand in comfortably. There is no visible bathroom.

Theresa places a small hand on Samantha's back gently pushing her towards the living room. "Come, Dear. I made sandwiches."

Samantha sees, for the first time, a plate of sandwiches, a pitcher of lemonade, and two glasses resting on the coffee table. She turns to Theresa and raises her eyebrow.

"I was expecting you."

Samantha slowly walks deeper into the living room. She sits on the couch but doesn't go for the food. She rests her hands on her knees. "How did you know?"

Theresa sits next to Samantha. She rests her bony hand on Samantha's knee and squeezes. "That's not why you came here. You came here to find your husband." She releases Samantha's knee and goes for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter resting on the coffee table. She wastes no time lighting up.

Samantha wonders what goes on in this woman's head. She is dead on about everything. "So he isn't dead?" Samantha's eyes sparkle.

Theresa laughs at Samantha's enthusiasm. "You know as well as I that he's alive, Samantha. Your only job is to find him." She inhales the nicotine.

Samantha's fear blocks her passion. She knows Martin is alive. But there is a part of her that knows he isn't. She is confused. Everybody in the world except for Theresa tells Samantha that Martin's dead. She wants to cry, but it just seems too much of a chore. "How?" she says in a soft voice.

"Follow your instinct," Theresa says releasing a puff of smoke.

Samantha is irritated by now. All Theresa is doing is giving her short, cryptic riddles. She shoots up off of the couch. "You know something. What do you know?" she demands. "I found Javier's phone. The last person he called was his mother. He called you."

"I know," Theresa says. "I put the phone there for you to find." She smashes the last of her cigarette in the ash tray located on the arm of the couch.

No wonder forensics didn't find the phone earlier. No wonder it was unscathed in the fire

Samantha sits on the couch next to Theresa. She is begging for Theresa's help with her eyes. "Please."

Theresa hangs her head. She looks hurt. It takes her a few moments to finally look at Samantha. "No matter how hard I tried, Javier was menacing, mean, vindictive. I tried to steer him away from that, but there's only so much a mother can do for her son. He's always been in trouble. He's never been caught, though."

Samantha immediately thinks about Nolan. "Why did he call you? What did he say?"

"He said that he needed my help. He seemed desperate. Just by the tone in his voice, I knew that he had done something wrong. Every time he comes to me for help, and I always help him, but this time I didn't. I knew." Theresa reaches for a sandwich and takes a big bite.

So many questions rumble in Samantha's mind. "What did he want?"

"Normally he lies about the trouble he's got himself into, but this time he was bragging. He said that he just killed an FBI agent and that his wife works with him. He seemed to take great pleasure in this." Theresa pours a glass of lemonade and hands it to Samantha.

"Why didn't you go to the police?" She reaches for a glass of lemonade and takes a sip. She leans far against the back of the couch.

Theresa scoffs. "I did, Dear," she explains. "Aren't you the police?" She gives a light laugh.

Samantha smiles slightly. "I mean why did you come to me?" She stops and thinks. "And how did you know that I was his wife?"

Theresa just stares at Samantha. "How do I know about a lot of things?" she counters. She sighs and continues. "I see things. All my life I've seen them. When you ran into me at the office, I just knew that you were Martin's wife. You seemed so down." She pauses and her eyes wander over Samantha. "You still do." Silence envelopes the women. "He's very handsome," she says. "If I were forty years younger and if he weren't married, I'd go for him."

Samantha freezes. How does Theresa know what Martin looks like? She knows she shouldn't be surprised but she is. She snaps her head up and stares Theresa, wide eyes. "How do you know what Martin looks like?"

Theresa smiles and throws her hands up causing the contents in the sandwich to fly everywhere. "Oh goodness," she exclaims. "At my age you just forget so much." She smiles before continuing. "He came over a few hours after the phone call."

--Flashback—

Theresa sits on the couch. She holds the remote control with one hand and a cigarette in the other. She hears a knock on the door. She throws the remote on the couch and slowly steps towards the door. She isn't expecting any visitors. It's not something she usually gets. The door creaks open. As it does, it reveals her only child.

Javier is slumped over. His dirty jeans and T-shirt create an unpleasant smell in Theresa's nostrils. She can smell his body odor, and she tries to hold her breathe. His long, scruffy, brown hair hangs just above his shoulders. She takes a puff of her cigarette and crosses her arms. She hasn't seen or heard from her son in years. She is not willing to jump for joy.

"Hi, Ma," Javier says. His smile reveals his crooked and yellow teeth.

Theresa knows better than to fall for his boyish grin. She's done it for far too long. "What do you want?" she says. Her voice drips with disdain. She leaves the door open, but she ventures into her house. She flops back on the couch and watches for Javier to follow her. She takes another puff of her cigarette.

"Nothin' Ma. Jus' wanna say hi."

Theresa rolls her eyes. And as she does, her eye wander out the window. She sees a man with brown hair and green eyes sitting in the back seat. He is looking straight ahead. He doesn't move. "Who's that?" Theresa inquires. She gets up off of the couch and meanders to the window.

"Tis nothin' Ma. He a friend." Javier steps in between the window and his mother. He gives her a smile.

Theresa gives up. She goes back to the couch and finishes off her cigarette. She exhales the last of her cigarette before saying, "So what about all that bragging you did about killing that agent?"

Javier laughs loudly and slaps his hand through the air. "Oh dat?" he says nonchalantly, "I's jus' playin'. I's wonderin' how'd you react."

Theresa coughs. She is eying her son. She has believed his lies too many times.

Javier sits next to Theresa. "I love you, Ma. You know dat. I ain't never killed nobody before."

"So what do you want?"

Javier points towards the parked car. "My friend," he says, "is in a jam. He need a place to stay, and I's wonderin' if you let me have the key to the summer house."

Theresa doesn't even think about it. "No," flows from her mouth too easily.

Javier looks shocked at first but quickly recovers. "Po'leaz, Ma," he begs. "He's in a real tight jam."

"How come you only come see me when you want something?" When Javier doesn't say anything, she says, "Leave."

Javier is resistant. He doesn't even move.

"Javier," Theresa almost yells, "Get out. You're no good."

--End Flashback--

"And that was it. He left his phone here, and I took it to the warehouse," Theresa says. She pauses. "I didn't know if that was Martin at first until I saw his picture on the news, but now I know, for sure, that Martin was sitting in the back of Javier's car."

Samantha is shocked. The way Theresa tells the story Martin was sitting in the backseat of the car willingly. But that would mean that Martin ran away and faked his own death. She can't handle that. She would rather Martin be dead. Truth be told, she wants to run home and hold Nolan. She wants to cry and lock herself from the outside world. It looks like Elena may have been right after all. But she can't do that. She knows she should tell Jack her findings, but so many emotions run wild through Samantha's veins; her mind is clouded. Now the truth is spewing in the air. It is up to Samantha to figure out what she wants to do with it.

Completely up to Samantha.