Chapter Fifteen #2
Sam filled him in on the details she knew thus far.
He shook his head in disbelief. “Just when I think I’ve heard everything.”
“By all accounts, a really good guy. Newly married.”
Malone grimaced. “Taken out by a scumbag who probably should’ve been locked up years ago.”
“Probably.” Sam glanced at the murder board and then at the captain. “Anything new?”
“We found proof that your guy Davis called Conklin every year on the anniversary of the shooting.”
Sam grasped one of the chairs for support. “I don’t understand this.”
“Neither do we. The chief has an appointment with Tom Forrester tomorrow morning.”
“I feel sick.”
“I know that feeling.”
Sam sat because she wasn’t sure she could remain standing. “He was my dad’s friend. Was it all a big lie?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
She thought of the evidence locker that needed to be searched for her dad’s messenger bag.
“Faith said something that reminded me of the leather messenger bag that he carried back and forth to work every day. I hadn’t thought of that bag in years, since before the shooting.
I can’t find it at the house. I was going to search the evidence locker for it. ”
“Want some help?”
“You remember the bag?”
“The man purse?” He smiled. “Of course I do.”
“Why didn’t I ever think to ask what’d become of it before now?”
“Sam, come on… Give yourself a break. Don’t you remember what those first weeks were like?”
“Not really. It’s kind of a blur.” She remembered fear and heartache and stress over the problems she’d encountered with Peter and Stahl at that time, neither of whom had an ounce of empathy after the trauma of her father’s shooting.
When Peter accused her of spending too much time with her recently paralyzed father, that was when she’d moved out of the home she’d shared with him and back into her childhood home to help care for her father.
She’d stayed there until right before she married Nick.
“I remember every chilling, horrifying, agonizing detail, and the last thing on any of our minds was what had become of the man purse.” Malone opened the door. “Let’s go take a look.”
Sam got up to follow him, but they were waylaid by the arrival of FBI Special Agent in Charge Avery Hill, who was visibly rattled.
“Is it true? Pat Connolly was killed?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “By a stray bullet fired by a career criminal arguing with another man over a woman across the street.”
Hill exhaled and bent at the waist, hands on his knees. “Oh my God.”
“You knew him?”
Without looking up, Hill nodded. “He interned with me out of grad school. I helped him get the job at DEA. He was brilliant. One of the best up-and-coming federal agents I ever worked with. He was going to do big things.”
Lieutenant Archelotta came into the pit, looking pale and shocked. “Pat Connolly was murdered?”
“You knew him, too?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. He was in IT at DEA. We worked together several times, and I knew him also through an IT association for LEOs.” He used the acronym for law enforcement officers. “He was…”
“Brilliant,” Avery said again.
“Indeed,” Archie said. “I can’t believe it. And he just got married.”
“His wife was here,” Sam said. “It was dreadful.”
Archie groaned. “Ugh.”
They were still standing there when Freddie, Cameron and Jeannie came into the pit, looking tired and spent.
“The shooter is in booking,” Freddie said.
“Thanks for a great job, all of you,” Sam said.
“We had some good help from people who saw it go down,” Cameron said.
“We’ll need to make a statement to the press,” Malone said to Sam. “Can you do that and then I’ll meet you in the locker?”
“Yeah, okay.” She conferred with Freddie, wrote down the pertinent info and scanned the rap sheet that Jeannie printed out, detailing the lengthy criminal record of the man charged with shooting Connolly. “What the hell was this guy still doing on the streets?”
“That’s a very good question.” Cameron sounded frustrated. “And now an innocent guy is dead. It’s so fucking wrong.”
Sam had never heard the überprofessional Green drop an F-bomb. “Yes, it is, but at least we got swift justice for his family.”
“Cold comfort,” Freddie said.
“Let’s call it a day here and pick up my dad’s case in the morning.
” Sam had a feeling she wouldn’t get much out of them at this point in the day.
“Thanks for your good work on behalf of Agent Connolly.” While they prepared to leave, she headed for the lobby to make a statement to the press.
When they saw her coming, they snapped to attention.
Before they could begin shouting questions at her, Sam stepped up to the podium.
“Shortly after two-thirty Eastern time today, thirty-one-year-old Drug Enforcement Administration Agent Patrick Connolly was killed instantly by a bullet discharged from a weapon fired during an altercation between two men. Agent Connolly, who was on the sidewalk across the street, was shot in the chest. James Zander, who is well-known to the MPD and has a lengthy record, was arrested a short time later by Homicide detectives, who credit eyewitnesses for assisting in the speedy resolution of this case. Mr. Zander will be charged with one count of felony murder, and I expect additional gun charges will be filed by the U.S. Attorney. Agent Connolly was newly married and leaves his wife, Veronica. He was described by colleagues as brilliant in the area of information technology as it pertains to criminal investigations. That’s all I have at this time. ”
She ignored their shouted questions as she turned to go back inside to meet Malone in the evidence locker where he was already working.
“This is everything from that December.” He gestured to a shelf in the vast storage area where he’d removed several boxes and plastic tubs from the shelf. “How’d the statement go?”
“Fine.”
“Another tough one, huh?”
“They’re all tough, but some are worse than others, such as the well-respected and newly married DEA agent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“You want to pick this up tomorrow?”
“No, I’d like to get it done.”
They spent two hours going through every piece of evidence collected during the month of her father’s shooting, as well as the items from the month after, but there was no sign of the bag. “Where would it be?” Sam wanted to punch something.
“Tomorrow, you should interview the first responders who were on the scene. One of them might remember seeing it.”
“We’ll start there. Thanks for the help in here.”
They put the room back to rights before heading out. When she was in the car, Sam placed a call to Nick, who answered on the second ring.
“Hey, babe.”
The sound of his voice filled her with relief. “Are you still at work?”
“Yep. You?”
“Just leaving. Are you heading home anytime soon?”
“Not quite yet.” He sounded tired and stressed.
“You mind if I stop by?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
Sam smiled. He was so damned sweet. “I don’t want to interrupt world domination or anything.”
“Please come and interrupt me. I just got out of a budget meeting that made my head hurt and gave me heartburn. No end in sight for this continuing resolution that’s running the government at the moment.”
“I don’t know what that means, and I don’t want to know, but I’m sorry about the headache and the heartburn. I’m on my way.”
“I’ll be here.”