Chapter Seventeen #2
Sam headed for the far right and pulled the first bin off the top shelf.
Inside were stuffed animals, clothing, shoes.
They worked quietly and methodically, going through each bin and checking every item, meeting in the middle after more than an hour.
They pulled the last two bins off the shelf and sifted through the items inside, but there was no leather messenger bag.
Freddie lifted the last two bins back onto the shelf. “What now?”
Putting aside her disappointment at not finding the bag here, she took a second to gather her thoughts. “I want to talk to every first responder who was on G Street that day.”
“We’ve talked to them before.”
“Yes, but we’ve never asked if they remember a messenger bag. This time we’ll ask them that.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Sam knew the list of people by heart. “Let’s hit the fire department on the way back to HQ.”
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the engine company that had responded to the call, walking in through the open doors, past the trucks to the common area in the back.
The firefighters and paramedics were seated around a large table, binders open before them as an instructor led them through a class that came to a stop when Sam and Freddie walked in.
“Lieutenant.” The firefighter leading the workshop wore a white shirt and captain’s bars. Sam had seen him around but couldn’t recall his name. “To what do we owe the honor?”
“Sorry to interrupt. We’re taking a fresh look at my dad’s shooting, and I was wondering if we might have a word with anyone who was on the scene that day.”
“I was there,” one of the men said.
Sam recognized him as David Branson, a paramedic, and nodded to acknowledge him.
“Me, too,” a female firefighter said.
Carmen Garcia, Sam recalled.
“Could we have a word in the hallway perhaps?” Sam asked.
The captain gestured for them to go ahead.
When the four of them were in the hallway, Sam shook hands with Garcia and Branson. “Good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Garcia said. “We were sorry to hear of your dad’s passing.”
“Thank you.”
“What can we do for you?”
“My dad carried a leather messenger bag that I’d forgotten about until someone shared a memory with me and I realized we haven’t seen that bag since the shooting. I know it’s a long shot, but we’re trying to figure out what became of it.”
Branson rubbed at the stubble on his jaw as he thought about it. “I’m trying to sift through the details of that day.”
“I know it was a long time ago.”
“Some calls stand out more than others. That one has stayed with me.”
Sam already knew that the shooting of a dedicated police officer had been traumatic for everyone who’d responded.
Deaths and serious injuries of officers on the job served as a reminder to all public safety personnel of the ever-present danger they tried not to think too much about as they went through their days.
“I don’t remember a bag,” Garcia said.
“I can’t say I do either,” Branson said.
“What shift does Viera work these days?” Sam asked of one of the other paramedics who’d been there.
“Third,” Garcia said. “He’s probably sleeping now, but I can text him and ask him to get in touch with you.”
“That would be great.” Sam handed her a business card. “My cell number is on there.”
“We’ll get word to him,” Branson said. “If there’s anything else we can do, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I will, thanks. It goes without saying that if you think of anything else, I’d appreciate a call.
” She hesitated, briefly debating whether she should ask, and in the end, the need to know trumped everything else.
“One other thing I was wondering. Do either of you remember who was in charge at the scene?” Since there was no mention of Conklin being there in any of the reports, she was hoping someone besides Davis would recall seeing him and could put him at the scene.
They both thought about that for a moment.
“I can’t say I recall that,” Garcia said.
“I can’t either,” Branson said. “There were so many people there that day at various times.”
“I understand,” Sam said. “Four years is a long time.”
“Wish we could do more,” Garcia said. “We’re all very sorry for your loss. DC Fire and EMS held Deputy Chief Holland in the highest regard.”
“Thank you and we appreciated the outpouring of support during the funeral.” Hundreds of firefighters and EMS personnel had attended the services in uniform.
“It was the least we could do,” Branson said.
Sam shook hands with both of them. “Thanks again for your help.”
“We hope you’re able to get some answers,” Garcia said.
“Me, too. Take care.” Sam and Freddie walked back to the car to return to HQ.
“Try not to get discouraged,” Freddie said. “The more seeds we sow, the more likely they are to bear fruit.”
“That’s very profound, young Freddie. And it sounds like something I might’ve said in the past, which means it’s copyrighted.”
He grunted out a laugh. “While you are often profound in your own unique way, that was my own original material. You have permission to use it, though.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“By the way, I know we have many other things going on at the moment, and the timing is awful, as usual, but you do need to make a decision about who you want for Will’s spot on the squad.
We’ve been working short-handed for a long time now, and with Gonzo out for who knows how long, we need that position filled. ”
“I know, I know. I think Malone is letting me get through Stahl’s trial before he applies pressure, but your point is well taken. I’ll look at the applicants today and decide something.”
“I gave you my recommendations weeks ago.”
“Refresh my memory.”
“Beckett and O’Brien have both passed the detective’s exam. I listed them as the top prospects because I know you like them both.”
“And I don’t like anyone.”
“Exactly. So that’s a plus for both of them. I chose O’Brien over Beckett, only because he’s been around longer, paid his dues and he’s damned reliable. Of course it’s your call, but that’s what I would do.”
“Then that’s what I will do.”
He turned to look at her. “Just like that?”
“Why not? You did the legwork, we know he’s qualified and, like you said, he’s got the chops. I’ll run it by Malone, and we’ll go from there.”
“Wow, that was easy.”
“In the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t rate as one of the more difficult things I have to deal with today. Did you hear about the press making a thing of us taking in the twins?”
“I did hear that, and it’s total BS. Just because Nick is in office doesn’t mean you can’t add to your family. What if you’d had twins the old-fashioned way?” He stopped himself. “Ugh, sorry. I know that’s a sore subject.”
“It’s true, though. What if I did have twins naturally? Would they object to the Secret Service providing protection for them?”
“Probably not. The uproar is about you voluntarily taking them in, which makes them eligible for protection.”
“Which, as you say, is BS. The uproar is also over the fact that their father left them billions, and that has people’s noses out of joint.”
“True.”
“Elijah would make the money available to pay for protection if we asked him to, but I’m not going there.
Nick and I agree it’s the principle of it.
We have the right to expand our family any way we wish to while he’s in office.
The public will have to pardon us if we didn’t consider the cost of protection when we saw two little kids in need of a loving home. ”
“You should say that—just like that.”
“I’m not saying anything. Nick’s office can handle it. He’s the one who has to answer to the taxpayers, not me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s another totally ridiculous manufactured scandal.”
“It’s because he doesn’t give the Republicans much to pick at, and with the next presidential election right around the corner, they’re going to be looking to discredit him any way they can as the heir apparent to the job.”
Though she’d heard that before, Sam’s stomach hurt at the thought of Nick being heir apparent to the presidency.