Chapter Nineteen #2
“Wouldn’t say no to that,” Freddie said.
“If you’re making it, I’ll have some,” Sam said.
“Sure, no problem.” Wearing basketball shorts and a Georgetown T-shirt, Will led them into a modern kitchen. Other than looking a little tired, he seemed okay, which was a relief to Sam.
“Sorry I haven’t gotten here before now,” Sam said.
“I heard you’ve been a little busy,” Will replied with a small smile as he made the coffee.
“Another week, another round of insanity,” she said.
“But this one hit close to home. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to offer condolences, but you have them nonetheless.”
“Thank you, but we aren’t here to talk about him. We want to talk about you and how you’re doing.”
“I’m…I’m better than I was before I made a decision and put it into effect.”
“And you’re absolutely certain it’s the right decision?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am. It’s the right thing for me and the squad. You don’t need someone whose mind isn’t in the game, and mine isn’t. Not anymore.”
“Fair enough. You probably expected me to try to talk you out of it, but I’m not going to do that.
All I’ll say is if you change your mind at any point in the future, let me know.
My door is always open. If you wake up a year from now and say ‘What the hell did I do?’ call me. If I can undo it, I will.”
“That’s good to know, Lieutenant. Thank you.”
“You probably ought to call me Sam now that you no longer work for me and we’re going to be friends.”
“Are we?” he asked with a hopeful look on his face that tugged at her emotions.
“Going to be friends? Hell yes we are. I don’t let good people get away.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I was most afraid of losing all of you in my life if I left the department.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Freddie said.
“We’ve got a wedding to go to this weekend and lots of other stuff to look forward to,” Sam added.
“I appreciate the support,” Will said. “More than you could ever know.”
“There’s one thing I want to say, and I want you to listen to me on this.”
“Okay…”
“You helped to put away a lot of people in your time on the job. Those people have friends, family, associates. You’re no longer walking around the city with the protection of a badge, a weapon and an entire department of brothers and sisters who have your back. Be careful. Be vigilant.”
“I hear what you’re saying, and I’ve applied for a concealed-carry license.”
“That’s probably not a bad idea.” Sam’s cell phone rang, and she checked the caller ID. Not recognizing the number, she stood. “I need to take this. Be right back.” She left the kitchen and went into Will’s living room, where a big flat-screen TV was the main attraction. “Holland.”
“This is Brendan Sullivan. Rogers is on his way in.”
“Let me know how you make out.”
“You got it.”
Sam ended the call and went back to the kitchen to update Freddie.
“What’ve you got on Gibson?” Will asked.
“Not much yet, but we’re putting the pieces together.”
“What’re you going to do for work, Will?” Freddie asked.
“I’ve got a few feelers out for security jobs. One of them looks promising. We’ll see. I’ve got savings, and that buys me time to figure it out.”
“If you need a reference, you know where I am,” Sam said.
“I was sort of counting on that,” Will said with a grin.
“Well then, I guess we’ll see you at the wedding?”
“Yes, you will.”
Sam extended a hand to him. “It was an honor and a privilege to work with you. I wish you the best of everything going forward.”
“Lieutenant,” Will said gruffly as he shook her hand, “believe me when I say the honor and privilege were all mine.”
Sam dropped his hand and hugged him. “Take care of yourself.”
He returned her embrace. “You do the same.”
“Let’s get back to it, Cruz,” Sam said, looking to recapture her equilibrium after the emotional visit with Will.
He saw them out and waved from the doorway as they got back into her car.
“He seems good,” Freddie said.
“Yep.”
“Are you okay?”
“I hate to lose good people, but it seems like he’s made the best possible decision for himself. That’s what matters. And he’s right—we don’t want him on the job if he doesn’t want to be there. That’s not in anyone’s best interest.”
“I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
“I know. We all do.”
“It’s going to be weird with new people in the squad.”
“Nothing lasts forever.”
“Well, that’s a cheery thought.”
“That’s me—an endless font of cheerfulness and optimism.”
His snort of laughter was exactly what she expected from him. “Where’re we heading now?”
“To talk to McTavish.” They found the disgraced councilman at home in Georgetown, though how he’d managed to hold on to property in that neighborhood after all his assets had been frozen was anyone’s guess.
Sam rang the doorbell to his fancy townhouse. “You ever notice that rich people’s doorbells are louder than regular people’s?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Pay attention to that going forward. You can tell a lot about a person by how loud their doorbell is.”
“I’ll file that piece of wisdom away on the spreadsheet with all the other tidbits you’ve shared over the years.”
Sam peered inside the beveled windowpanes next to the door. “You don’t have a spreadsheet.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
She rang the bell again, smiling smugly at Freddie as the bells chimed like Notre Dame inside the spacious home. “Hear that? Pretentiousness at its very best.”
“I hear it. What I don’t hear is someone coming to answer the door.”
Sam placed a call to Robach, who picked up on the second ring. “Your boy McTavish isn’t answering his door. Isn’t he supposed to be home?”
“Yep. Let me call him. I’ll get right back to you.”
The line went dead and she closed her phone. “I liked that Sullivan guy so much.”
“I wonder if he knows how lucky he is. You don’t like anyone.”
“I do tend to hate people. That’s true.” Her phone rang and she took the call from Robach.
“He said he was asleep and didn’t hear the doorbell.”
Sam rolled her eyes at Freddie. “If he’d been dead he would’ve heard that doorbell.
Here he comes now. Thanks for the help.” She stashed her phone and had her badge ready by the time McTavish opened the door, looking disheveled.
He wore a Washington Capitals T-shirt with ratty sweats and looked nothing at all like the sharp-dressed councilman he’d once been.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Good morning to you, too,” Sam said. “I’m Lieutenant Holland and this is my partner, Detective Cruz. We’d like to speak to you about Peter Gibson?”
“Who?” To his credit, McTavish kept his expression completely blank.
“One of the top deputies in your alleged gambling operation until you were arrested. Ring any bells?” She wished she could laugh at her own joke.
“A. I didn’t run a gambling operation. B. As I didn’t run a gambling operation, I didn’t have deputies. C. I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Or D. All of the above,” Sam said, earning a glare from McTavish. “Detective Cruz, show Mr. McTavish some of Peter’s autopsy photos. Maybe that will help to jar his memory.”
Using his smartphone, Freddie called up the photos.
Sam took great pleasure in watching McTavish go pale as he viewed the photos of what’d been done to Peter. “Ringing any bells now?”
“Oh, that guy. I…ah…” He gulped as he swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “What the hell happened to him?”
“That’s what we’d like to know.”
McTavish blanched and took a step back. “You can’t honestly think I had anything to do with that. Check the GPS report on my ankle monitor. I haven’t left this house in weeks except to buy food, which I’m allowed to do.”
“May we come in for a minute?” Sam asked.
He hesitated before he seemed to realize he didn’t have much choice in the matter. His shoulders sagged with resignation as he stepped back to allow them into the spacious foyer, then slammed the door.
“When was the last time you spoke with Mr. Gibson?” Sam asked.
“February sometime probably. Most of my old friends and quite a few family members quit calling after I was arrested.”
“Tell us about your association with Peter.”
“We played cards together a few times. I never even knew his last name, which is why it didn’t ring any bells for me.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“So he wasn’t one of the top lieutenants in your gambling organization?”
He met her glare with a stone face. “What gambling organization?”
“The one uncovered by the MPD Vice squad that led to your arrest?”
“Nothing has been proven in a court of law, and I remain innocent until proven guilty.”
Sam realized they were banging their heads against a brick wall here. She handed McTavish her card. “If you hear of anything that might help our investigation, I’d appreciate a phone call.”
He took the card but didn’t say anything else.
“We’ll show ourselves out.”