Chapter Ten
Outside the interrogation room, Freddie said, “How’re we playing this?”
“Follow my lead.”
“That doesn’t tell me much.”
“It tells you what you need to know, Detective.”
His scowl would’ve made her laugh if she hadn’t been trying to bring her badass persona into the room with her. A little intimidation went a long way in situations such as this.
Two detectives from the Gang Unit were keeping Simmons company in the room.
“We’ll take it from here, gentlemen,” Sam said. “Appreciate your assistance.”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of them said. “We’ll be outside if you need us.
The meaningful way he said that, as if he was certain they would need them, spiked Sam’s anxiety.
Simmons glowered at her from his seat at the table.
He had one of those tattoos that came out of the collar of his T-shirt and went up around his neck.
A serpent maybe. How anyone got the big idea to tattoo their neck and face was beyond her.
Did they ever consider they might one day apply for a job in which face tattoos were discouraged?
Although, a banger like Simmons probably didn’t need a job to make a living.
“I ain’t saying a word to you until my lawyer gets here.”
“Great,” Sam said. “Let’s go get some lunch, Detective Cruz.”
“Did someone say lunch?” Freddie asked, following her lead with his usual perfection.
“Wait,” Simmons said. “How long is that gonna take? I got shit to do.”
“Depends on when your lawyer shows up. You should know how this works by now.”
His scowl spoke volumes.
Before he could say anything more, Sam herded Freddie out of the room. To the two Gang Unit detectives, she said, “He lawyered up. Let us know when or if his attorney arrives.”
“Will do.”
Freddie followed her back to the pit. “Um, don’t get me wrong because I’d always rather eat lunch than deal with thugs, but could I ask why you didn’t try to get him to talk now the way we usually do?”
“It’s like this, young Freddie. If he’s our shooter, he’s off the streets for now.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
“It won’t kill us to wait an hour or two or ten, especially since we know he’s never going to tell us anything willingly. Let’s get some food before the warrant we requested for his place comes in.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” His appetite was the stuff of legends.
They left HQ and went to one of their favorite sub shops where she got a small veggie while he had a large meatball.
“It’s so not fair that you can eat anything you want and not gain a freaking pound,” she said, eyeing his lunch with lust in her heart.
“What can I say? I’m metabolically blessed.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he said around a mouthful of meatball.
“Right at this moment, I do hate you.”
“What were you brooding about in the office earlier, and don’t tell me it was nothing. I know it was something.”
“Forrester wants to see me tomorrow at two.”
“Oh.” He took a drink from his extra-large soda and wiped the sauce off his face. “Did they give any indication…”
Sam shook her head. “They asked me to be there for the meeting.”
“I’m sure it’s going to be fine.”
“I wish I was as confident as you and my attorney are.”
“Come on, Sam. There’s no way regular people are going to indict you for punching that loudmouth when he so totally had it coming.”
“It still counts as assault. Last time I checked, assault is a crime.”
He popped a fry bathed in ketchup into his mouth. “They won’t indict you. The citizens of this city want you doing what you do best—tracking down real criminals.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Her phone buzzed with a text from Malone. Got your warrant.
“The warrant is in. Eat up.”
Over the next five hours, they tore apart the town house in Southeast where Trace Simmons lived with his sister and her two young children, who’d been asked to leave the house while the police were there.
The sister had put up such a fight that Patrol had taken her in, and the kids were in the custody of the Simmons’s mother.
“That was Captain Harrison,” Freddie said when he ended a call. “Nothing in the way of black sedans in Simmons’s group of known associates.”
Sam growled with frustration.
“Doesn’t mean they didn’t get their hands on one and drove around the city shooting people,” Freddie said. “It only means they don’t own one.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sam’s phone rang and she took the call from a number she recognized as Minnesota. “Lieutenant Holland.”
“This is Robert Brinkley, Caroline’s father.”
“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
“My wife and I are on our way to Washington and were hoping we might see our daughter.”
“I’ll ask the Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Lindsey McNamara, to get in touch with you to make that happen.”
“Thank you.” After a pause, he said, “Have there been any arrests?”
“Not yet, but we are working the case and following several leads.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll see you when you get here.” After she ended the call, she said to Freddie, “Write down this number.” She dictated Robert’s number.
“Did you know that on smartphones, you can share the contact, and there’s no need to write anything down?”
“Stop being a smart-ass and call that number in to Lindsey. Ask her to get in touch with Caroline Brinkley’s parents, who want to see their daughter when they get here.”
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever I can do to help.”
Sam went to confer with Haggerty, the Crime Scene lieutenant overseeing the search. “Any sign of a nine millimeter?”
“We haven’t found any weapons.”
“Keep looking.”
“That’s the plan.” He went to rejoin his team while Sam cooled her heels, waiting for something, a thread to pull that would lead them to their shooter.
She took a call from Captain Malone.
“Anything at Simmons’s place?”
“Not yet.”
“Patrol has a lead on a possible car. Campus police at American University reported they found it in one of their lots without an AU parking sticker. They noticed what might be gunpowder residue on the passenger-side window frame. I’ve sent a team to pick it up and bring it to the lab.”
“Have you expressed the supreme urgency to the slow-as-shit lab?”
“I have.”
“Do we know who it belongs to?”
“We do.”
“Let’s go get him!”
“The owner reported it stolen two days ago. I’ve sent someone to collect their prints so we have them.”
Sam deflated. “At least we can dust it for the shooters’ prints and other evidence.”
“There is that.”
“But that’ll take time.” She glanced at the sun, which sank toward the western horizon as her anxiety spiked.
Would the shooters strike again tonight?
“We need to put out the word that people have to stay off sidewalks tonight. No sidewalk service at restaurants or cafés, no gatherings on street corners or stoops. Residents need to stay inside until we know for sure this is over.”
“I agree. The chief and I were saying the same thing. Tough time of year to tell people to stay in.”
“Tough choice—do I dine al fresco and possibly get shot or do I stay the hell inside and not get taken out by someone who’s clearly shooting to kill? Such a tough decision…”
“Your sarcasm is one of your most charming attributes, Lieutenant.”
“What’re some of the others?”
His loud laughter echoed through the phone. “I’m gonna take the Fifth on that one.”
“Hey, Cap… So, um, I got a call from Forrester’s office. They want me there at two tomorrow.”
“Did they say—”
“Nothing more than they want to see me.”
“Ugh. Let’s hope the grand jury did the right thing.”
“What if they didn’t?”
“Don’t go there, Sam. Just don’t even think about it until or unless you have to.”
“Got it. Denial. I’m following that strategy a lot these days.”
“Whatever works.”
“Do me a favor and don’t say anything about this to the chief or anyone else until we know what it’s going to be, okay?”
“I won’t say a word, but please let me know as soon as you hear anything.”
“I will. After we’re finished here, I’m going to call it a day until we have more on the car. You’ll take care of issuing the statement to the public?”
“We’ve already got the Public Affairs people working on it.”
“Good. Don’t let them screw it up.”
“I’ll see if we can avoid that.”
“Call me if anything pops tonight.”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“Lucky me. I hope I don’t talk to you later.”
“I hope not either.”
Sam slapped her phone closed and updated Freddie on what the captain had told her about the car found at American University.
“What now?”
“Let’s finish up here and call it a day. Hopefully, the lab will have something for us from the car by the morning. They know it’s urgent, and perhaps they might treat it as such for once.”
“We can only hope. Does finding the car mean it might be over?”
“Nothing stopping them from grabbing another one. We’ll have to wait and see if they’re done with us. The PAO is putting out a release to warn residents and visitors to stay off the sidewalks. If they’re out hunting again tonight, hopefully people won’t make it easy for them.”
His deep sigh said it all. In a big, vibrant city like theirs, it was almost impossible to expect everyone to stay inside and off the sidewalks. “So that’s it? We’re going home?”
“Well, our tour is up, and we’ve done everything we can for now. Simmons has lawyered up, and since his lawyer didn’t arrive by the end of our shift, he can be our guest overnight. Let Harrison know that.”
“Will do.”
Haggerty came out a short time later to let her know they were done with their search. “We didn’t find any weapons, but we uncovered a drug stash that may result in a parole violation for our friend Mr. Simmons. You can let the family come back.”
Sam glanced into the house that had been turned upside down by the search and felt for people who’d be returning home to such a mess, even if the sister had been a huge pain in the ass. “Let’s make it so they can walk in the door at least,” Sam said.
She and Freddie went into the house and spent thirty minutes clearing a path through the destruction. When they’d done what they could to restore some order, they walked out together.