Chapter Twelve
The first thing Joe Farnsworth did when he parted with Holland and Cruz was call Jake Malone. “Where are you?”
“Almost home. What’s up?”
“I need to see you right away.”
“Everything okay?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Ah, fuck. What now? You want me to come back to HQ?”
“Meet me at my place in twenty?”
“I’ll be there.”
As he drove home, Joe took a call from Marti. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, there. I’m leaving for a meeting at church, but I left dinner in the oven for you. It’s on low, but if you leave it there too long it won’t be any good.”
“I’m on my way.”
“All right. I’ll be home by eight.”
“See you then. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He told himself that no matter what kind of shit show was about to blow up around him and his department, he would still have her, and she made everything bearable. When he arrived at home, he saw Malone waiting for him on the porch, illuminated by the glow of the light Marti had left on for him.
Joe got out of his SUV and went up to the porch.
Malone eyed him warily. “What fresh hell is upon us now?”
“Holland and Cruz followed up on a lead called into the tip line from a guy named Frank Davis. Ring any bells?”
“Nope. Should it?”
“Apparently, he was on G Street at the time of Skip’s shooting and gave a detailed statement to Conklin the same day.”
Malone tipped his head as if he hadn’t heard the words correctly. “He gave a statement to Conklin.”
“That’s what he told Holland and Cruz. To be sure, they showed him the page of department leadership from the website, and he identified Conklin as the officer who’d taken his statement.
Apparently, Davis rendered aid to Skip after the shooting and perhaps saved his life by putting pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrived. ”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“You have no idea how much I wish I was.” Joe sighed. He should’ve retired years ago. Then this latest nightmare wouldn’t be his problem.
“Did Davis see the shooter or the car?”
“No. He only remembers seeing the cop car pull over another car, but he had moved past them when he heard the shot.”
“Jesus.”
“First Wallack and now this. What else is there?”
“I don’t even want to know.” Crossing his arms, Jake looked at Joe. “What’re we going to do about this?”
Joe expected nothing less of the colleague and friend who always had his back. “We need to go talk to him.” Joe needed someone there to witness whatever transpired, and he trusted Jake to help him navigate this situation.
Jake checked his watch. “He’s probably home by now.”
“Let me go turn off the oven and then we can go.” Dinner would have to wait.
Twenty minutes later, they crossed the 14th Street Bridge in bumper-to-bumper late-day traffic on the way to Conklin’s home in Alexandria. Normally they’d be talking sports or politics, but today they coexisted in tense silence. It took forty-five minutes to make the five-mile trip.
“What’s our plan?” Jake asked when they pulled into a guest spot in the condo complex.
“Let’s ask him to come out and talk, so we can’t be overheard.” Conklin was remarried, but none of them knew his second wife that well. She didn’t often socialize with them.
“I’ll do that,” Jake said.
While Joe stood next to the car, Jake went up the stairs to the front door and rang the bell. A minute later, the inside door swung open. Conklin seemed surprised to see Jake. He pushed opened the storm door.
“Can we talk?” Jake gestured to where Joe waited. “Out here?”
Conklin glanced at Joe and then at Jake. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Let me grab a coat.”
Jake came down the stairs and joined Joe at the car.
Conklin joined them a minute later. “What’s going on?”
Joe took the lead. “We’ve been following up on some info that came into the tip line after Skip died. Does the name Frank Davis mean anything to you?”
Conklin thought about that for a second. “No. Should it?”
“He claims he was on G Street the day Skip was shot, rendered aid to him in the aftermath of the shooting and gave a statement to you that we have no record of.”
“He said he talked to me?”
“He named you and picked you out of photos of the department’s top leadership.”
“I never talked to anyone on G Street that day. I wasn’t even there. I went to the hospital after I got the call about the shooting.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m positive. I was at HQ when the officer-down call came in, and I went straight to the GW ER.
” His stance took a defensive edge. “You thought I’d keep something like this to myself for four years?
Because I didn’t tell you about Wallack?
Skip was my friend. He saved my life and my career once upon a time. ”
The story of Conklin’s downward spiral after the end of his first marriage was well known to Joe and Jake.
“Who brought this to you?”
“Holland and Cruz.”
“Of course it was her.” Conklin’s laugh had a bitter edge to it. “Why’d I even ask?”
“Don’t blame her,” Joe said sharply. “What was she supposed to do with this and the Wallack info?”
“No worries,” Conklin scoffed. “I certainly know whose side you both are on. Everyone knows.”
“I’m on the side of the department and the honest men and women who serve this city,” Joe said, infuriated.
“Are you? I didn’t take your badge on the Wallack thing, but if I find out that what you told us about Davis isn’t true, you’re done—and I’ll see you prosecuted.
So think about it tonight. Think long and hard about that day and make sure you’re remembering correctly.
You know where to find me in the morning. ” To Jake, he said, “Let’s go.”
They drove by Conklin, still standing where they’d left him, as they exited his development.
The drive back to the city was no less tense than the first half of the trip had been.
“You believe him?” Jake asked after a long silence.
“I don’t know what to believe.”
“We could ask him to take a polygraph.”
“And what if it gets out that we’re polygraphing our deputy chief?” Joe cringed at the thought of that PR nightmare.
“So, it’s basically the word of a guy we’ve known and worked with for decades against this Davis dude who swears he talked to Conklin that day?”
“If the thing with Wallack hadn’t happened, I’d take Conklin’s word for it. But after that…I don’t know what to say.”
Jake looked over at Joe. “Why don’t we dig into Davis a little deeper and get a sense of how credible he is.”
“We can take a high-level look but nothing too in-depth. I don’t want to rip the guy’s life apart after he was good enough to call the tip line.”
“One question I have is where’s he been the last four years? He gave the report to Conklin, and that was the end of it for him?”
“He probably thought we’d do the right thing with the info and what more could he do?”
“I dunno. If I witnessed something like what he did, every time Sam mentioned the case was still open, I’d be calling to see if I could do anything more to help.”
A knot of dread tightened in Joe’s gut. “Maybe he did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Get Davis’s phone number and then personally take a look at the records of every call Conklin has received in the office since the day Skip was shot.
Find out whether Davis ever called him after that day.
Ask Archelotta for the records for all the top leadership so he won’t know who we’re focused on. Tell him to call me for approval.”
“I’ll take care of it first thing, and I’ll ask Holland and Cruz to take a high-level look at Davis.”
“Maybe Davis remembered incorrectly.”
“What if he didn’t? Will you bring charges against Conklin?”
“You bet your ass I will.”
Sam helped Nick tuck Aubrey and Alden into bed and then went in to check on Scotty. “Everything ready for tomorrow, bud?”
“Define everything.”
She rolled her eyes at his predictable comment. “Is most of the homework done anyway?”
“Define most.”
“Scotty!”
He laughed. “Chill, Mom. It’s all good. Dad has already gone through my planner and my backpack to make sure I did everything.”
Hearing him call her Mom never got old. “Thank God for Dad.”
“He is essential to the entire program.”
“You know it. Celia said you were there this afternoon. She appreciated your visit.”
“I love going there after school. It’s weird that Gramps isn’t there, though. I keep waiting for him to come rolling in.”
“I know. I was just there and felt the same way. I can’t bear to look in the dining room.”
“Will we take down the ramps?”
“Eventually, I suppose. I don’t think we need to do that right away.”
“It’ll be so different out there without them, like it’s different without him.”
Sam nodded.
Scotty sat up, reached for her and gave her a hug that brought tears to her eyes.
She held him for as long as she could before he began to squiggle to get free. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“No problem.”
She leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Lights out.” She waited until he’d shut off the light before she left the room and closed the door, recalling when her father used to do the same with her.
Every night, she turned the light back on, and every night, he came busting in to catch her, scaring the crap out of her.
Then they would laugh. The joke never got old.
Her whole life, they’d had the ability to crack each other up.
She could meet his gaze across a crowded room and know exactly what he was thinking and vice versa.
They understood each other on a cellular level.
It had been no surprise to anyone who knew them that she’d followed him into the MPD.
She hadn’t seriously considered any other profession.
Until Nick, she’d never had that kind of connection with anyone but her father. That feeling of being so deeply understood would be the thing she would miss the most about her dad. Thank God she had Nick to fill some of the void.