The call had come two days ago, a voice from her past pulling her back to the place she'd sworn she'd never return. Willow Creek, Iowa. Population 5,241. And now, one fewer.
Ethan Green was dead. Murdered in cold blood out on his organic farm. The news had hit Samantha like a punch to the gut, stirring up a swirl of memories and emotions she'd long suppressed. Ethan, the golden boy of Willow Creek. The passionate dreamer who'd wanted to change the world, one pesticide-free tomato at a time.
Now he was gone, and the town was reeling. And despite every instinct screaming at her to stay away, Samantha knew she had to go back. She had to find out what had happened her former neighbor and childhood hero. She owed Ethan that much. Ethan had always been more like an uncle or mentor to the much younger Samantha than just a friend growing up."
The humid Iowa air slapped Samantha in the face as she stepped out of her car 6 hours later, stiff and bleary-eyed from the long drive. Her childhood home loomed before her, the faded yellow farmhouse now choked with overgrown weeds and sagging gutters. The porch swing creaked forlornly in the breeze, one chain rusted through.
Samantha steeled herself and marched inside, the musty scent of neglect and mothballs overwhelming. She'd deal with the house later. Right now, she needed sustenance and intel, in that order, and headed across town.
Mae’s Diner mirrored Samantha’s memories precisely - a cheap haven of pink vinyl booths and black-and-white checkered floors, the mouthwatering aroma of fried chicken and apple pie permeating the air.
"Well, I'll be durned! Samantha Brewer, back in person!"
"Hi Mae," Samantha wheezed, extricating herself with some difficulty. "It's been a while."
"I'll say! What's it been, ten years? Twelve? You're too skinny, girl. Sit yourself down, I'll fix you up."
Despite her bone-tiredness and the queasy churn of unease in her gut, Samantha found herself squeezed into a booth, a heaping plate of chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes swimming in gravy plopped in front of her.
Samantha dug in, letting the comforting flavors briefly blot out the gnawing grief. But she couldn't block out the low murmurs from the table of elderly farmers behind her.
"Such a shame about that Ethan Green fellow. Stabbed to death, right there in his cabbage field. What's this world coming to?"
"Organic farming is all well and good, but I always wondered if Ethan was trying to fix what wasn't broken. Some of us have been doing things the traditional way for generations and it worked just fine. But I guess that modern way of thinking left some folks dissatisfied with the old methods."
Samantha's fork froze halfway to her mouth. Stabbed to death? In a cabbage field? The details hit like icy water in her veins, shocking her out of the cozy nostalgic haze.
She signaled for the check and dashed out, desperate for air. In a daze, she drove the familiar winding road out to Green Acres Farm, hands clenched bloodless on the wheel.
The fields that had once held neat rows of vegetables now stood fallow and yellowing, weeds already choking out the furrows. Yellow police tape fluttered around the perimeter, a macabre contrast to the pastoral scene.
A gruff sheriff in a sweat-stained uniform waved her away from the entrance. "Sorry, miss, this is an active crime scene. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Samantha nodded, her mind racing, as she cautiously edged her car into reverse. She couldn't just sit on her hands, not this time. There had to be someone in this town she could still trust, someone who could help her make sense of this nightmare...
Fifteen minutes later, Samantha walked into the Willow Creek Chronicle, the battered sign hanging askew above the entrance. The sharp, inky smell of newsprint assaulted her nose, mingling with old coffee and dust.
And there, hunched over a messy desk in the corner, was Jennifer Mack, Samantha's childhood best friend, scribbling furiously on a steno pad. Jen looked up and did a double take, jaw dropping open.
"Sam? Is that really you?" She rushed over and grabbed Samantha in an awkward hug. "Wow, I didn't know you were back in town! What are you doing here?"
Samantha pulled back, mustering a weak smile. "Hey Jen. As soon as I heard about Ethan, I came. I just... It’s unbelievable. I need to find out what happened to him."
Jenny's expression darkened. "It's awful. The whole town is in shock. Look, why don't we grab a drink tonight and catch up? I'll fill you in on what I know."
"Deal. You still know all the dirt in this place?"
Jen scoffed. "In Willow Creek? I could fill an encyclopedia."
As the sun began its slow descent, painting the flat fields in streaks of orange and pink, Samantha and Jenny settled into a sticky booth at Rusty's Bar, nursing watery beers.
Joe Novak, former high school football hero, turned paunchy bartender, sauntered over, eyes widening in recognition.
"Well well, if it isn't Samantha Brewer, the big city hotshot. Never thought I'd see your face in here again. What brings you back to our humble abode?"
Samantha leaned in, flashing a wry smile. "Oh, you know Joe, just a little unfinished business. I'm sure a man about town like yourself has heard all kinds of interesting rumors lately..."
Joe's chest puffed out, his balding head gleaming under the neon beer signs. "Well, now that you mention it, I might have heard a thing or two. But I'd hate to spread gossip..." He trailed off, eyeing Samantha expectantly.
She sighed and pulled a twenty from her wallet, sliding it across the bar. "Cut the malarkey, Joe. What do you know about Ethan Green stirring up trouble before he died?"
Joe pocketed the bill with a smirk. "You didn't hear it from me, but word is Ethan was ruffling a lot of feathers with that tree-hugger organic stuff. Trying to get folks to switch over, badmouthing the big commercial farms. Let's just say he wasn't making many friends."
Samantha digested this as Joe sauntered away, turning back to Jenny with a frown. "So Ethan was angering people left and right with his whole save-the-earth crusade? That's definitely a motive for murder."
Jenny took a long swig of beer, wiping her mouth. "He always was a stubborn mule. But who would actually kill him over vegetables? It just doesn't add up."
Samantha drummed her fingers on the table, mind churning. "I think I need to go to the source. Jen, how would you feel about teaming up again for old times' sake? Put those journalistic instincts to use?"
Jenny grinned. "Oh yeah! Samantha Brewer and Jenny Mack, together again? Willow Creek won't know what hit it."
An hour and another round later, Samantha pulled into the pristine driveway of 115 Oak Street, the lavish Victorian home of her overbearing mother, Delores Brewer. Her mother and the last tether to the family Samantha had left behind all those years ago.
She'd barely made it to the porch before the door flew open and Delores came tottering out, a vision in a puff-sleeved floral blouse and pink curlers.
"Samantha Jean Brewer, get over here and give your mother a hug this instant!" She held out soft, perfumed arms and Samantha reluctantly sank into them, inhaling the familiar scent of White Diamonds and cherry pipe tobacco.
"Hi Mom. It's been a while."
"It certainly has, young lady! Now get in here. I just baked your favorite cherry pie!"
Samantha let herself be ushered into the doily-covered, flower-scented interior, settling uncomfortably on the edge of a horsehair sofa as Delores puttered around the kitchen.
"Now tell me, dear, how is your love life? A beautiful girl like you must be beating them off with a stick in that big city!" Delores set down a plate piled high with glistening pie and leaned forward, eyes avid.
Samantha squirmed and took a big bite to avoid answering. "Oh you know, Mom, I've been really focused on my career..."
"Mmhmm, that's what they all say. Well, no matter. I know plenty of eligible young men around here who would be just perfect for you!"
Samantha nearly choked on her pie. "That's very thoughtful Mom, but I'm just here for a visit. I don't need you setting me up with half the county."
"Nonsense! Now, while you're here, I insist you stay in the guest room. I won't take no for an answer." Her expression turned sly. "Besides, then I can make sure you actually go out on some of those dates."
Samantha sighed and nodded, resigned to her fate. There was no arguing with hurricane Delores.
Later, lying awake in the chintz hellscape of the guest room, Samantha stared at the water-stained ceiling, memories of her father threatening to overwhelm. His deep belly laugh as he tossed her in the air. The scratch of his stubble when he kissed her cheek. The ragged gasps of his last breaths in that hospital bed.
She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the memories down. She couldn't afford to fall apart, not now. Ethan needed justice. And somehow, she would be the one to get it for him.
Morning dawned grey and dreary, a perfect match for Samantha's sleep-deprived state. Guzzling coffee from Delores' fussy porcelain teacups, Samantha steeled herself and headed for the sheriff station.
Sheriff Cooper looked like he'd stepped straight out of a Western, all leathered skin and suspicious squint. He eyed Samantha's proffered business card like it might turn rabid and bite him.
"True Crime Files, eh? Let me guess, you want to come in here and stick your nose where it doesn't belong in the name of 'journalism'?"
Samantha widened her eyes innocently. "I just want to help, Sheriff. Ethan was an...old friend. And my podcast has a lot of experience with cases like this. I promise I won't get in the way."
Cooper harrumphed into his walrus mustache, but Samantha could see him weakening. The murder of the town's most famous resident was big news. He could use the publicity.
"Fine. I'll give you the broad strokes. But this is still an ongoing investigation, you hear? You put one toe out of line and I'll hogtie ya quicker than a fox in a henhouse."
Samantha nodded solemnly, her most earnest "who, me?" expression firmly in place. Inside, her mind raced as she pulled out a pen and notepad.
This was it. Her chance to find out what really happened to Ethan Green. To put the ghosts of her past to rest once and for all. One way or another, the dark secrets lurking in her hometown were about to come to light.
Ethan deserved justice, and Samantha would stop at nothing to uncover the truth behind his death.
