Chapter Six
Avery gestured for them to precede him into the conference room, where the other division commanders and department leadership had already gathered, along with Avery’s deputy, George Terrell.
Sam’s direct supervisor, Detective Captain Jake Malone, came rushing in, apologizing for being late, even though he wasn’t late.
Sam took a seat at the far end of the room, tucking herself into a corner so she could observe without being observed. All the cases they were here to discuss involved her in some way or another, and the last freaking thing she wanted was anyone checking her reactions.
Speaking of handsome devils, Lieutenant Archelotta, head of IT, caught her eye and lifted his chin, offering silent support that Sam appreciated from the only other officer she’d ever dated after her marriage to Peter shit the bed.
Although, calling what she’d done with Archie “dating” was a stretch.
Mostly, they’d had sex, but that was ancient history now that she was happily married to Nick.
Archie remained a valued friend and trusted colleague.
“Thank you all for being here.” Avery stood at the head of the long table around which the MPD’s top brass had gathered.
“I understand and appreciate this is an intrusive and unwelcome process. It won’t be quick or painless, but our goal is to make it as efficient as possible for all of you while providing the public with an accounting of what happened, who was involved and where we go from here.
A few ground rules. First, we expect you to make yourself and your officers available to us as needed.
Second, we expect you and the others on your team to be truthful with us.
This will go a lot faster if we’re all on the side of getting to the truth.
If we later prove that members of this department lied to us, we’ll file charges. ”
Sam noticed no one was looking at Avery as he spoke. Rather, everyone focused on the table or their own hands or some other random thing. It never came naturally to police officers to be investigated, but recent events had led to this day of reckoning that was sure to impact them all in some way.
Avery went through the list of interviews they planned to conduct. Homicide was far enough down the list that she shouldn’t have to worry about the Feds for a few days, which was good. She had better things to do, with Ginny McLeod’s murder to investigate.
After reviewing the schedule, Avery asked if there were questions.
Captain Roback from Vice raised his hand. “I’d like to know why we need this when we know who the criminals are, and all of them have been charged and put into the system.”
“If I may?” the chief said.
Avery gestured for him to go ahead. “I hear what you’re saying, Captain Roback, and at first, I felt the same way.
In my mind, we’ve done a good job policing our own team and weeding out the people who don’t belong here.
But if there’re others, I want to know who they are, and I want them gone before they can further sully the reputation of this department.
We all know there are more hardworking, dedicated officers in this department than there are criminals.
I welcome this investigation and fully support it. I expect all of you to do the same.”
“Thank you, Chief,” Avery said. “Any other questions?”
When there were none, he thanked them for attending the meeting. “We’ll be in touch with each of you over the next few weeks.”
That wasn’t bad, Sam thought as she hung back, waiting for the others to leave the room before her.
Fourteen minutes. She was on her way to the pit when someone called her name from the lobby.
Turning, she was shocked to find Lenore Worthington, the stunning Black woman Sam had met during her first year in Patrol when she’d responded to a call for help and found Lenore’s son, Calvin, shot to death outside their Southeast home.
Sam walked toward Lenore and hugged her. “It’s so nice to see you.”
“You, too. I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Thank you. You look gorgeous, as always.” Lenore was always dressed to the nines, her nails done and her makeup perfectly applied. Sam recalled feeling like a slouch next to Lenore when she’d first known her.
“You’re too kind.”
“How’ve you been?” Sam asked.
“Oh, you know…” Lenore shrugged. “It’s been almost fifteen years, but it doesn’t ever get any easier. Calvin would’ve been thirty next month, which is so hard to believe. I have trouble picturing him as a thirty-year-old. He’s frozen forever at fifteen.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Do you have a minute?”
She didn’t, but she’d make time. Sam had never forgotten Calvin Worthington or his mother’s gut-wrenching grief. “Come on in.” She led the way to her office in the pit and gestured for Lenore to go ahead of her.
When Freddie caught her eye, his brow lifted in inquiry. Sam raised her index finger to let him know she needed only a minute, and then they’d hit the streets.
“Have a seat.” Sam went around to sit behind her desk. “What can I do for you?”
“I read about how you solved your dad’s case after almost four years, and I know fifteen is a lot longer, but I wondered if maybe you might be willing to take another look at Calvin’s case.
There were so many things that didn’t make sense, and I thought that you…
” Her voice broke, and she looked down. “I’ve followed your career.
I know you’re the best.” She looked up at Sam, her chin quivering. “Doesn’t my Calvin deserve the best?”
Sam swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d thought of Calvin often over the years. When he’d been killed, he was two years older than Scotty was now. “He does. Of course he does.”
Lenore’s eyes brightened with hope. “So you’ll look at it?”
“I’ll mention it to my commanders and ask if we can put some people on it. It’ll completely depend on what they say. If it were up to me, I’d do it in a second, but it’s not.”
“I understand,” she said with a sigh. “I appreciate anything you can do. You were always so kind to me and my family, and it meant a lot to us. Even if there’s nothing you can do, we won’t forget that.”
Sam had stayed with Lenore, her mother and daughter for two hours while they waited for the medical examiner to arrive.
She’d made herself available to them in the days that followed and had spoken with Lenore several times over the years at events for victims. “I’m starting a new grief group for people who’ve lost loved ones to violent crime.
I think it would mean a lot to people starting out on this journey to have your voice in that group. It would mean a lot to me.”
“Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
Sam handed her a flyer Dr. Trulo had made that included the details of the grief group’s first meeting.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll consult with my command about a fresh look at Calvin’s case and let you know. Is your number the same?”
She nodded. “It’ll never change until I get the call that they’ve found my baby’s killer. I’d be afraid to miss that call.”
“I’ll get back to you. It may not be this week, but as soon as I can.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you, and I’ll be at the grief group.”
“It was good to see you, Lenore.”
“You, too. I was so, so happy to read that you’d nailed the guys who shot your dad.”
“Thank you. It was a relief to finally know, even if the answers were shocking.”
Lenore stood to leave. “I can only imagine. But at least now you know.”
“Yes, we do. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you for your time.”
A minute after Lenore left the office, Freddie appeared in the doorway. “What was that about?”
“A homicide from my first year on the job. I was in Patrol, took the call for a shooting in Southeast. Calvin, a fifteen-year-old, was already dead in the driveway when I got there. That was his mother.”
“Oh, wow. Did you remember her?”
Sam nodded. “I’ve never forgotten her.”
“Did we get whoever did it?”
Sam shook her head. “The case was never closed. That’s why she was here. She heard we closed my dad’s case and wondered if we might take another look at Calvin’s.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“That I’ll run it up the pole, which I will.” She stood, gathered her keys, phone and notebook and put on her coat. “Let’s hit it.” As they walked toward the morgue, Sam said, “Talk to me about Haverson.”
“He’s the president of a community bank in Bethesda.”
Sam groaned. “So we have to drive to freaking Bethesda?”
“We do.”
“Why did I know you were going to say that?” Sam asked, resigned to an hour in the car.
Nothing chapped her ass more than wasting time.
Well, receptionists chapped her, too. And needles.
And flying. Her ass was chapped a lot, if she were being honest. And what did that even mean?
Chapped the ass. She huffed out a laugh at the direction her thoughts had taken.
“Do I dare ask what’s so funny?”
“I’m thinking about things that chap my ass.”
“I withdraw the question due to lack of interest in the things that chap your ass, or anything involving your ass.”
“I have a very fine ass. Just ask Nick.”
“Stop it right now.”
Sam cracked up laughing at his testy tone. She loved nothing more than to drive him crazy any way she could. When they were in the car, she said, “Tell me more about Mr. Haverson.”
“He’s fifty-four, married with three college-aged kids. Lives in Gaithersburg.”
“How did he know Ginny McLeod?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. I did a deep dive on her social media accounts but didn’t see anything connecting her to him. That’s at the top of my list of questions for him.”
“So you have a list of questions. That’s good. One of us should.”
He shook his head and released a long-suffering sigh. “You’re lucky you have me around to make you look good.”
“Indeed, and I know it. Cam is making me look pretty good lately, too. He did a shit ton of work yesterday that saved me from being up all night, which saves you from dealing with Cranky Sam today.”