Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam stashed her phone in her pocket as she headed for Trulo’s office upstairs.
As she was leaving the pit, Freddie came in escorting a well-dressed, frightened-looking couple and another man who looked like a lawyer.
Realizing he had the bitchy PTO president in for an interview, Sam gave him a thumbs-up that they couldn’t see.
Their eyes bugged at the sight of her, which gave her a dose of satisfaction.
Freddie smiled and winked at her as he pointed the people toward the interrogation room where he’d dole out a much-needed dose of humility.
She continued on to Trulo’s office, and wasn’t it just her luck to come face-to-face with Sergeant Ramsey.
Sam hoped he’d stay on his own side of the staircase, so she wouldn’t be tempted to push him down the stairs—again.
Since she’d barely escaped an assault charge the first time, she kept moving and didn’t make eye contact.
“If it isn’t Mary Poppins, taking in the poor, helpless children and compromising her investigation? Such a do-gooder. Do the people who license foster parents know you’re guilty of assault?”
Sam never stopped moving. “Does your family know you’re guilty of being a dick?
Oh wait, of course they do. Silly of me to ask.
” She pressed on, resisting the urge to look back, and didn’t stop walking until she was outside of Trulo’s office.
Her heart beat fast, as if she’d been chased.
She had no idea if Ramsey had followed her, and she wasn’t about to look to find out.
Trulo’s office door opened. “Lieutenant. What can I do for you?”
“You got a minute?”
He stepped back to admit her and closed the door behind her.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Everything all right?” Trulo asked.
“Yep.”
“You seem unusually rattled.”
“That’s what happens when you resist your baser urges to punch a fellow officer and send him flying down the stairs—again.”
Trulo’s lips quirked from the effort it took not to laugh. “Congratulations on the successful effort.”
“It wasn’t easy. I fear I may be growing up.”
He effected an expression of mock horror. “Say it isn’t so!”
“I know. Revolting development.”
“As amusing as this development is, something tells me that’s not what brought you to me this morning.”
Sam dropped into the chair where she’d been forced to spend many an hour after Stahl took her hostage.
Though she’d resisted Trulo’s efforts at first, she credited him with putting her back together and making it possible for her to return to the job.
“I need some advice about possibly guiding a five-year-old witness to murder through the process of identifying his parents’ killers. ”
“Ah,” he said, taking the seat across from her and crossing his legs. “So, one of the kids saw something?”
Sam nodded. “The boy, Alden. He hadn’t said a word since he’d been with us, but when his older brother arrived, he let it all out.” Sam told him what Alden had conveyed to them in his middle-of-the-night outburst.
When she had finished, Trulo released a deep sigh. “Someday, many years from now, Alden will realize that the very last thing his father did in his own life was to save his son’s life.”
The profound statement stirred Sam’s already-raw emotions. “Very true.” She cleared her throat. “So, if it comes to it, how do we do this?”
“Carefully,” Trulo said, stroking his chin. “First of all, we go to him. He doesn’t come here.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “We’d have to show him the photos.”
“Yes.”
“And at some point, he’d have to testify.”
“Also true. If you’re forced to use him, I’d spend some time with him afterward to get a feel for what he’s going to need long term. I can make some recommendations to his new guardians.”
“Will he always remember?” Sam asked.
“Possibly, but the memories may fade in time, or they may remain very vivid for the rest of his life. It’s hard to say for certain.”
“Thanks for the insight,” Sam said, gripping the arms of the chair for support as she stood. “On to my next thing—visiting Gonzo in the hospital.”
“He’s going to be all right, Sam. Eventually.”
“The thing that nags at me is that I didn’t notice he was in such a bad place, and I’m with him every day. How did I not see it?”
“Because he didn’t want you to. He didn’t want anyone to see it. Emotional devastation is a tough thing to manage in this macho environment in which we work. We’re often seen as weak if we allow people to see our inner turmoil. You know what that’s like. You’ve been there yourself.”
“Yes, I have.”
“He’s going to get through this. It’s going to take some time.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“When have you ever known me not to be?”
Sam laughed as she moved to the door. “That sounds like something I would say.”
“Would you like me to check the hallway for you?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
She stood back so he could stick his head out the door. “Coast is clear, but to be safe, put your hands in your pockets and keep them there until you’re back in friendly territory.”
“Will do, Doc,” she said, amused by his commentary. “I’ll let you know if we have to involve Alden.”
“I’m free all afternoon.”
“Appreciate the help.” While keeping her hands planted firmly in her pants pockets, Sam moved quickly down the stairs, releasing a deep breath when she arrived in the safety of her pit, her home away from home. Carlucci and Dominguez had returned, so Sam went to find out how it had gone with Klein.
“No sign of him at his place,” Dominguez said. While Carlucci was tall and blonde, Dominguez was petite with olive-toned skin and dark hair. “Neighbors said they haven’t seen him in a few days.”
“Let’s put out an APB for him,” Sam said.
“I’ll do it,” Dominguez said.
“You got the photos we left, LT?” Carlucci asked.
“Yes, thank you. What’s up with the SVU case?”
“Nothing to do with us. They needed a couple of extra hands.”
“Good answer.” They had enough on their plate.
“Let’s get everyone in the conference room for a quick meeting before you two take off.
I’ll be there in a minute.” She went into her office, gathered the photos, her notes and summoned her legendary mojo.
Today could make or break this case. She was determined to make it as quickly as possible for the sake of Alden, Aubrey and Elijah.
She’d also love to have it done before Freddie’s wedding overtook them this weekend.
Freddie came into her office, smiling widely. “Damn, that was fun.”
Sam laughed. “Now that you’ve had your fun for the day, let’s figure out what’s next.”
They went into the conference room, where the others waited for her along with Malone and Farnsworth, who stood against the back wall observing.
“First things first, the FBI has ruled out Duke Piedmont as a suspect in the home invasion and murders.” She went over what had transpired since Piedmont was apprehended at Dulles the previous day.
“I find it really hard to believe that he was in the city but had nothing to do with this,” Freddie said.
“I did, too, but Hill said he and the other agents involved found Piedmont’s shock and grief over the deaths of Armstrong and his wife to be sincere and legitimate. He’d also gotten what he’d come for—twenty million that would set him up for the rest of his life.”
“Where do we go from here?” Green asked.
“We’re looking for this guy,” she said, holding up the photo of Victor Klein, sharing what Brendan Sullivan had told her about him.
She pinned the photo of Klein to the center of the murder board.
“Here’s what I think happened. Klein sideswiped Cleo in traffic three days before the murders.
She made a BFD out of how he could’ve killed her and her children.
He took a look at her Audi SUV, possibly noticed the rock on her finger and smelled money.
He was locked up on an outstanding warrant until his arraignment Monday morning.
When he got out, he got her address off the accident report.
Then he recruited another scumbag to help him with the promise of a windfall and paid the Beauclairs a visit. ”
“Where were the kids while this was going on?”
“We know they were in the car when he took her to the bank to withdraw a hundred grand.”
“You think it was Klein when Piedmont had made actual threats against their family and was in the city the day of the murders?” Farnsworth asked, incredulous.
“Agent Hill and his team are convinced that Piedmont had nothing to do with it. Piedmont had been back in touch with Armstrong for months. They were living in plain sight while Armstrong continued to promote the software he’d founded.
If Piedmont wanted to take him out, he’d had ample opportunity.
It’s time to shift our focus. Let’s find Klein. ”
“Might be a stretch, Sam,” Freddie said. “This is pure speculation on our part.”
“Understood, but I spoke with Klein’s parole officer, who believes Klein is capable of something like this.
He’s been escalating, moving from petty shit to assault and did time for B&E.
According to the reports, Cleo took a piece of his ass after the accident, so that might’ve pissed him off enough to hunt her down to teach her a lesson about how to speak to him.
Perhaps he took one look at that crib in Chevy Chase and dollar signs started dancing in his eyes. ”
“We know she withdrew a hundred grand from the bank the same afternoon as the home invasion,” Green said. “My first stop after this is the bank where she made the withdrawal.”