Chapter Six #2
Wanting to cover all bases, she also placed a call to Lilia. Other than Nick, Lilia was the smartest Washington insider Sam knew, and she wanted her chief of staff’s take on the latest situation.
“Good morning,” Lilia said, chipper as always, even first thing.
“Morning.”
“I was going to call you to let you know we’ve received a request for you to keynote at the National Association of Police Organization’s Top Cops award ceremony next May.”
“Ugh, what do they want with me?”
“Gee, I wonder. Could it be that you’re the second lady and a high-profile Homicide detective in the nation’s capital? They didn’t come right out and say so, but I got the sense that they’re also planning to nominate you as a Top Cop.”
“Seriously?” Of course she knew of NAPO and had been a member since the beginning of her career but had never been active in the organization.
Lilia laughed. “Yes, seriously. Why are you so surprised? Your career is very deserving of recognition.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so and so do they. I’ll email the info they sent over and you can decide about the keynote. It’s not until May, so you have time to prepare, but they’d like an answer in the next few weeks.”
“Fine, I’ll look at it.”
“I assume you had another reason for calling.”
“You assume correctly. I wanted your take on this insanity with Nelson and how it’s going to affect me and my husband.”
“I wish I knew. Everyone in this place is on pins and needles waiting to see what will happen.”
“Nick is a stressed-out mess.” Sam had come to trust Lilia and felt she could say that without fear of it being repeated to anyone.
“I’m sure he is. I hate that this is happening again.”
“And I hate making it about me and us when Gloria has to be so hurt by this. She’s such an awesome first lady.”
“She is, and my heart goes out to her.”
“My stomach aches from not knowing how it will play out.”
“I know it’s hard to put it out of your mind, but try not to think about it until you have to. That’s the best advice I can give you.”
“We’re trying.” Sam glanced at the clock, which inched closer to eight and the start of her tour. “I’ve got to get to work, but thanks for the advice.”
“If I can do anything—anything at all—you know where I am.”
“I do, thanks. Just let me know if you hear anything new.”
“Of course I will.”
“Thank you for a great time the other night. You throw one hell of a dinner party.”
“It was fun. I’m only sorry it ended with more stress for everyone.”
“Me, too. Talk soon.” Sam ended the call and thought about what Lilia had said, wishing it was possible to not think about it for the next eight hours.
She went inside and made a beeline for her office in the pit.
Minutes after she arrived, Dr. Trulo, the department’s resident shrink, appeared in her doorway.
“Got a minute?”
“For you, Doc? Always. Come in.” At one time, she’d resisted his attempts to shrink her, but she couldn’t deny that he’d put her back together after Stahl attacked her.
He had become a trusted friend and colleague.
With kind gray eyes and thinning hair, he projected an aura of competence and calm in the maelstrom that was her life.
He stepped into the office and shut the door.
“What’s up?”
He sat in her visitor chair. “I wanted to check in with you about a couple of things. First, I heard back from the chief about our idea to start the support group for victims of violent crime. He loved the idea but had some questions that I’ve taken the liberty of answering for both of us.”
“Thank you for that. Happy to avoid paperwork whenever I can.”
“Had a feeling you’d approve,” he said, smiling. “The other thing I wanted to talk to you about involves the trial.”
“Stahl’s trial?”
He nodded. “It’s looking good for conviction, but I think we need to be prepared for the possibility—”
Sam held up a hand to stop him. “If you’re preparing me for the possibility of him walking, don’t go there. If that happens, they’re going to have to lock me up.”
“It’s a slim possibility, Sam, but there’s always a chance the jury won’t be swayed.”
“The man wrapped me in razor wire and threatened to set me on fire. How does he not get convicted after that?”
“You’ve been doing this long enough to know how these things go sometimes.”
She sat back, crossed her arms and gave him her best defiant look. “I refuse to believe the jury won’t do the right thing in this case. It’s a slam dunk.”
“Humor me… Let’s talk about worst-case scenario.”
“I can’t, Doc,” she said softly. “I’ve held it together all this time since the attack because I believe in the justice system.
I believe that the twelve citizens on that jury will hear what he did and put him away for the rest of his life.
If that doesn’t happen, if I don’t get justice in this case, I don’t know what I’ll do or how I’ll continue to fight for justice for others. He needs to be convicted.”
“I agree with you, and I don’t bring this up to upset you. I always want the people I work with to be prepared for what-if.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I can’t entertain the possibility of him walking. I just can’t. Not after he tried to kill me twice.”
“I understand, but always remember I’m here for you no matter how it goes down.”
“I know, and I appreciate it even if I don’t show that.” She paused, considered and decided, all in the scope of a few seconds. “Can I talk to you about something else?”
“Anything.”
“I’m going to see Conklin today.”
His frown overtook his entire face. “Why?”
She handed him a copy of the anonymous note they’d received after her father died.
Trulo quickly scanned it.
“I want to know who sent that.”
“You think he knows?”
“If other people inside this department were involved or had knowledge they failed to share for four years, he would know that.”
“Does it have to be you who asks the question?”
“Probably not, but part of me wants to force him to look me in the eye and own what he did to me, my dad and our family all while pretending to be our friend.”
“I understand that desire. I truly do. But I’m not sure it’s in your best interest.”
“Maybe it isn’t, but I’m still going to do it. And besides, he asked to see me anyway.”
“What do you hope to gain?”
“Other than finding out who might’ve sent this note?”
“Yes, other than that.”
“I want to understand how he could’ve done this to us, to all of us.
Not only to my dad and our family, but to the department.
You’ve seen what people are saying about the chief and how this happened on his watch—that his deputy chief was withholding info critical to the shooting of two fellow officers. ”
“I have. It’s unfortunate that Joe is bearing the brunt of something he had nothing to do with.”
“It’s completely unfair. No one wanted to know what happened to my dad more than the chief, and for him to be blamed for what Conklin did adds insult to injury.”
“It does, but that’s how leadership works. The guy—or gal—at the top gets the blame for everything that happens beneath them, regardless of whether they were involved. But I wouldn’t worry too much about Joe Farnsworth. If anyone can weather the storm, he can. I’m far more concerned about you.”
“You don’t need to be.”
“Don’t I? You’re about to face off with a former colleague who knew all along who shot your dad and why, and you don’t think that’s cause for concern?”
“I’m trying to think of him the way I would any other perp.”
“And how’s that working for you?”
“So far so good.”
“Until you’re in the room with him for the first time since learning he was involved.”
“I’ve had some time to wrap my head around it.”
“I’m glad you have, because I’m still struggling with how he could’ve done this to Skip, to you, to all of us.”
“Of course I’m still struggling with that, too. But more than anything, I want to know if other people were involved. I want everyone who knew about this and didn’t do the right thing out of this department and off the pension rolls.” She wanted that with a ferocity that couldn’t be measured.
“Come see me after you meet with him?”
“If I need to.”
“I mean it, Sam. Don’t shrug this off like it’s no big deal. This man, who you considered a friend and colleague, was involved in your father’s death. Come see me after if you need me.”
“I will. Thank you for talking it out with me.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He stood to leave. “It’s important that you be kind to yourself after a loss like this. I understand the burning desire for answers, as long as you understand the risk for further injury to a healing wound. And with that, I’ll leave you to carry on.”
He opened the office door to reveal Captain Malone, his hand raised to knock. “Tag. You’re it.”
“Oh joy,” Malone said with a wry grin.
Amused by their banter, Sam was grateful for the normalcy of being there, for being on the receiving end of their jokes, for working a case.
It helped to keep her mind off the scandal engulfing the White House and allowed her to forget, even for a few minutes, that her dad was no longer waiting for her to get home from a long day on the job.
He’d loved to hear all about her cases and to contribute his wisdom wherever he could.
She would miss that more than anything. It was the thing they’d shared that no one else in their family could understand the way he could.
“Conklin is being brought up to interview two,” Malone said. “We think he’s still hoping for an opportunity to deal for lesser charges.”
“Ha. That’ll be the day.”
“You know that, and I know that…”
Sam’s stomach twisted with nerves, which was rare when she was about to interrogate a witness. Most of the time, she got an incredible high out of confronting murdering sons of bitches. Not this time.
This time was personal.