Chapter Fifteen #2
“Don’t kill the messenger, Lieutenant,” Farnsworth said. To Tara, he added, “I’ll take the interviews. The lieutenant is otherwise occupied today.”
“Of course,” Tara said. “I’ll let them know.” She scurried off in the direction from which she came.
“Poor girl,” Farnsworth said. “You’ve scarred her for life.”
“She needs to learn about a thing called timing. It’s everything.”
“She’s doing her job, Sam, and I’ll let you get back to doing yours. If there’s anything I can do to help, say the word.”
“Malone has requested a warrant to search Besozzi’s house. If you could move that along, it would help.”
“Consider it done.”
“Arnold’s folks are coming in later to see him. It would mean a lot to them if you have the time—”
“Consider that done, too. Just let me know when, and I’ll be there.”
Nodding, she said, “Thank you.”
When she would’ve walked away, he stopped her. “Sam.”
She glanced up at his kind, compassionate eyes, the eyes of her uncle Joe as well as her commanding officer.
“This is the toughest thing you’ll encounter in this job. You’re off a difficult recuperation, and this is a hell of a thing to come back to. Please ask for help if you need it. We’re all standing behind you on this.”
She had to swallow a huge lump in her throat before she could speak. “Thank you, sir.”
“Keep me posted on where we are with the investigation.”
“I will. Nick and I are heading up to see the Arnolds. That’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? I mean I should be out working the case, but—”
His hand on her arm stopped her. “You’re his commander.
It’s the exact right thing for you to do today.
We’ve got plenty of people out looking for the person who killed him.
Your job is to lead your team through the investigation as well as to guide them through the painful loss of their colleague and friend. ”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“You know where to find me if I can help with any of it.”
“You’ve already helped. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“I’ll be around.”
“Don’t let the network people ask you about the vice president’s wife,” she said with a small smile.
“They wouldn’t dare. I’ve heard she’s a real barracuda.”
He left her chuckling as she walked back to the pit where her heartbroken detectives were waiting for direction and guidance.
In the conference room, Nick was with Hill and Jesse Best, commander of the U.S. Marshal Service’s Capital Area Regional Fugitive Task Force. The three men were poring over a map of the city that was spread out on the table.
“Gentlemen,” Sam said when she joined them. “Where are we?”
Best stood to his full six-foot-six-inch height.
He had blond hair and the build of the defensive tackle he’d been on his college football team.
He’d turned down offers from the NFL to go into law enforcement and had risen quickly through the ranks within the Marshal Service. “My condolences, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you.”
“I was explaining to Agent Hill and Vice President Cappuano that we have officers spread out in a grid formation throughout the city, complementing the effort underway by the MPD and FBI.”
“How do we know he’s still in the city?” Sam asked.
“We don’t know for certain, of course,” Best said, “but we’ve got officers at the train station, bus depot, airport and we’re searching Metro video from all the stations near to where the shooting took place. We’ve got people checking with cab companies and car services.”
“Does he have a phone registered under the Besozzi name?” Hill asked.
“We’ve got requests into all the major carriers asking that very question,” Best replied.
“Wow, you guys don’t mess around,” Sam said. Under normal circumstances, she’d resent the intrusion from federal authorities. But today she couldn’t muster the energy it would take to be resentful of help they badly needed.
“This is what we do, Lieutenant,” Best said. “We find people. Our entire team is doubly motivated by the fact that the person we’re looking for killed a law enforcement officer. We’ve already had two cell companies tell us they have no one by that name in their customer database.”
“What about the possibility that he’s operating under an assumed name?”
“As soon as we have the warrant to search his place, we’ll get some prints to determine who this motherfucker really is,” Best said. “Then we’ll have him by the balls.”
Sam liked this guy’s style. “I want him alive.”
“As do we. But if it’s a choice between his life and the life of one of my people, we won’t choose him.”
“I understand. While you oversee the manhunt, we’re going to continue to try to tie Besozzi to the knife attack victims. Please let me know what we can do to supplement your efforts.”
“We appreciate the cooperation thus far. Your Patrol officers have been very helpful.”
While she spoke with Best, she felt Hill watching her closely, probably trying to gauge whether she was about to fall apart. She wouldn’t give him or anyone the satisfaction of falling apart before they’d gotten justice on Arnold’s behalf. “That’s good to hear,” she said to Best.
“Avery, I hear your mother is doing well,” Sam said, out of respect to Shelby more than anything.
“She is, thank you.”
“We’ll leave you all to it. Nick, could I have a word in the office please?”
He followed her through the pit and into her office, closing the door behind him.
“What’s it going to take to get us up to New Carrollton to see the Arnolds?”
“If I go, we have to let the Secret Service take us. Are you sure you want to turn it into a big circus at their house?”
“Maybe the detail could tone down the circus ever so slightly?”
“I’ll talk to Brant and see what we can do. While you were doing the briefing, I got a text from Shelby asking if she should reschedule the final fitting for your ball gown.”
The statement was so comically out of place in the context of this day that Sam had to laugh. “My ball gown.” She shook her head. “When is all that again anyway?”
“If by ‘all that’ you mean the inauguration, it’s the day after tomorrow as you well know since this entire department has been preparing for months now.”
“That soon, huh?”
“That soon.”
“Is it appropriate for me to appear at inaugural balls forty-eight hours after one of my detectives was killed in the line of duty?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, Samantha. If you feel it’s inappropriate, I would understand if you didn’t go as long as you understand that I have to go.”
“I do understand. What time are we supposed to meet Marcus?” she asked of the young designer from Virginia who’d become Sam’s go-to guy for all things formal.
“Six.”
“Ask Shelby to push him to nine, and I’ll meet him at the house. I’ll have to play attending the balls by ear, but at least I’ll be ready if I do go.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I know this is an awful time for you, and the last thing you want to think about is the inauguration, but I need you up on the podium with me Tuesday morning. That part is somewhat nonnegotiable.”
She reached up to caress his handsome face. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else at that moment. It’s the party aspect that may be seen as inappropriate.”
“You know who you could ask?”
“Who?”
“Your chief of staff. From what I hear, Lilia is shockingly well informed about all matters of protocol and Washington.”
“Good idea. I’ll run it by her. In the meantime, we’ve got to go to Maryland and I guess you’re driving since I’m not allowed to drive the VP.”
“Neither am I, but in this case that’s an advantage. I’ll be able to snuggle with my wife all the way to Maryland. I hope the traffic is awful.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh at how adorably sweet he was and how he brought a ray of sunshine to the darkest of days.