Chapter Sixteen
“That was brutal,” Freddie said when they were outside.
“I still feel sorry for the guy even though he wasted our time.”
“Me, too.”
“Call Malone and have him run the names Kramer gave us.”
While Freddie did that, Sam drove them back to HQ so they could interview Simmons.
“He’s on it,” Freddie said when he ended the call with the captain.
“I feel like we’re spinning our wheels.”
“I do, too. You think anything will come of the info from Kramer?”
“Probably not. It could be a legit opportunity that had nothing at all to do with his wife being killed. I mean, think about it. He gave them money for their top-secret project. What would be the motive in taking out his wife and three other innocent people? There isn’t one.”
“But we’re still going to follow up, right?”
“Yep, but mark my words, it won’t lead us anywhere.”
They returned to HQ and went straight to the interrogation room where Simmons and his attorney were waiting.
“How’re we going to play this?” Freddie asked.
“I’ll take the lead. I want to get the hell out of here.”
“Let’s do it.”
Sam walked in first with Freddie following and introduced herself and her partner to the young dark-haired woman who sat next to a surly-looking Trace Simmons.
“I’m Mary Beth Perry from the public defender’s office.”
She didn’t look old enough to be out of high school, let alone law school, Sam thought as she took a seat across the table from them while Freddie remained standing by the door.
“Talk to me about Tamara Jackson,” Sam said.
Simmons’s eyes bugged. “What about her?”
“You heard her brother was killed in a drive-by shooting?”
“Is that what this is about? You think I had something to do with that? I would never do anything to hurt her. I love her. She’s one of the few good things in my miserable fucking life.”
Sam looked on in stunned amazement as tears filled his eyes. “She said you threatened her, slapped her and said nasty crap about her mother.”
“I swear to God,” he said in a hushed voice. “It wasn’t me.”
Strangely enough, Sam believed him. “Have you heard any rumblings on the street about who might’ve been behind the shootings?”
“Nah, I ain’t heard nothing about it.”
“If we release you and you hear something, I’ll expect you to let me know.” Sam slid her card across the table to him. “Understand?”
“Yeah, I got ya. Can I go now?”
Sam stared at him for a long moment, hoping she was doing the right thing by trusting her gut. “We’re good on this, but there were drugs found at the house.”
He threw up his hands. “They ain’t mine.”
“Then that means they’re your sister’s?”
“I know nothing about no drugs.”
“You can expect to hear from my colleagues about that.”
“They know where to find me.” Without another word to Sam or his attorney, he got up and left the room.
Mary Beth seemed to sag from relief, or that’s how it appeared to Sam.
“How’d a nice girl like you end up defending guys like him?” Sam asked her.
“Someone’s got to do it. Why not me?”
Impressed by her sassy comeback, Sam said, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around campus.”
“I guess you will. And for what it’s worth, I’m a big fan of your work—and your husband.”
“Thank you.” Sam never knew what to say to comments like that.
Mary Beth took off down the hallway, and Sam turned to Freddie. “I hope I did the right thing there.”
“For what it’s worth, I believed him, too.”
“It’s worth a lot.”
Malone joined them. “Simmons was a dead end?”
Sam nodded. “He seemed genuinely shocked that we suspected him. Said he loves Tamara Jackson, that she’s one of the few good things in his life, and he’d never do anything to hurt her.
We both believed him and told him he’d be hearing more about the drugs that were found in his house.
He says they aren’t his, so we need to look at the sister for that. ”
The captain sighed and ran his fingers through his wiry gray hair. “That takes us back to square one. Nothing popped on any of the names you got from Joe Kramer. What’s your feeling on that angle?”
“As I said to Detective Cruz, what would be the motive? He invested in their project. Why would that lead to his wife and three other innocent people being gunned down?”
“I can’t see how it would,” Malone said.
“Let’s see what Jeannie finds tonight on former and current military and law enforcement sharpshooters in the area,” Sam said.
“The one thing that stands out to me is the skill it would take to shoot someone with such deadly accuracy while traveling at a high rate of speed. We need to find out who would have those skills.”
“Agreed.”
“I’ll have Carlucci and Dominguez pick up that angle from McBride overnight and see where we are in the morning,” Sam said. To Cruz, she added, “Write up the reports and call it a day, Detective.”
“Do you mind if I report from home?”
“Not at all.”
“All right then. I’ll see you both in the morning, if not before.”
After he walked away, Sam looked up at Malone. “You think whoever did this is done?”
“I want to think that, but I have a nagging feeling he’s just getting started.”
“Me, too,” Sam said, shivering from the frigid AC as much as the sense of foreboding that overtook her.
Sam arrived at home as Nick’s motorcade pulled onto Ninth Street. Standing on the curb, she waited for him.
His face lit up with pleasure at the sight of her.
He put his arm around her and kissed her right there on the sidewalk, in full view of the neighbors and his detail.
“There’s my non-felon wife. I’m so glad I’m not going to have to visit you in prison, although I bet the conjugal visits would’ve been hot.
” With his lips pressed against her temple as he walked them up the ramp, he whispered, “Maybe we can play conjugal visit later?”
Sam elbowed him in the gut even as she laughed at his outrageousness.
“So that’s a yes to conjugal?”
“We’ll see.”
“Can we skip dinner and go straight to bed?”
“Behave. We have a grumpy first-day-of-school boy to deal with first.”
His low groan made her laugh.
“You’re very randy tonight, Mr. Vice President.”
“I’m randy every night that I get to have you in my bed.”
“Shhh.” She glanced at Melinda, who watched them the way she always did—as if she wished she could see her sexy subject naked. Sam wanted to claw her eyes out. Shouldn’t she be off duty by now?
Nick nudged Sam into the kitchen and pressed her up against the counter for a deep, sensual kiss that had her thinking about bedtime. He rubbed his hard cock against her belly and put his hands on her ass to pull her in closer to him.
Sam’s mind went blank as the stress of the day gave way to overwhelming desire.
“God, I needed that.” He shifted his attention to her neck where he seemed to breathe her in. “I was so fucking relieved to officially hear there isn’t going to be an indictment.”
Sam clung to him, tipping her head to give him better access to her neck. “You don’t swear. That’s my thing.”
“The occasion calls for a good fucking.”
Sam lost it laughing. “In your world, all occasions call for a good fucking.”
“Only when you’re around, my love.” He kissed her forehead, her nose and then her lips again. “I can never, ever get enough of you.”
“Thank God for that.” She drew him into another kiss as Scotty came into the kitchen.
“Oh for God’s sake.” He spun around to leave.
“Come back,” Sam said. “We were done.”
“Speak for yourself,” Nick muttered, pressing his cock against her.
Sam wriggled free of him and went after their son.
“A man ought to be able to walk into the kitchen of his own home without having to see that,” Scotty said indignantly.
Sam mussed his hair and kissed his cheek. “A man should, yes. A boy, however, is stuck with parents who love each other. Sorry to say.”
“It’s a terrible burden.”
“I know, and I’d apologize except that your dad is such an excellent kisser.”
“Too far,” Scotty said with a scowl. “All I wanted to know was what’s for dinner. I got way more info than I needed.”
With her hands on his shoulders Sam steered him back into the kitchen, where Nick sat at the table looking innocent when she knew he had to still be hard. She waggled her brows at him before peeking in the oven to see what Shelby had left for dinner. “Looks like lasagna.”
“Yes,” Scotty said with a fist pump. “That’s the first piece of good news I’ve had all day.”
“I have another bit of good news for you,” Sam said.
“What’s that?”
“Remember when I accidentally-on-purpose punched Sergeant Ramsey?”
“After he said crappy shit to you about Stahl,” Scotty said, nodding. “What about it?”
“First of all, don’t say shit or you’ll owe the swear jar. Second of all, I found out today I’m not going to be charged with assaulting him.”
“They couldn’t charge you because there wasn’t a jury in America who wouldn’t agree he had it coming,” Scotty said emphatically.
“Still, they could’ve charged me because it was technically assault, and it’s a good reminder that physical violence isn’t the way to solve our problems. I’ve learned a big lesson from this.”
“But if you had it to do over again, you’d probably still punch him,” Scotty said. “Or at least I hope you would.”
Sam looked to Nick for help and found him smirking at the mess she’d gotten herself into. “Listen, buddy. I don’t always set the best example for you, but I hope you know that I wouldn’t approve of you punching someone who said something you didn’t like.”
“If someone ever said to me what Ramsey said to you, I would punch him. Just so you’re prepared if that ever happens.”
“Um…” Sam glanced again at Nick, whose brows were raised in amusement and possibly despair as she dug a deeper hole for herself. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to fight my battles for me.”
“I don’t feel that way. But if someone ever says something so vicious about either of you to me, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”