Chapter Nine
As Sam drove to the TV station downtown, she puzzled through the McLeod case from every angle, realizing they were no closer to answers than they’d been the day before.
Her phone rang, and she took the call from Captain Malone on the Bluetooth, which was a nice feature on her new phone.
“Lieutenant Holland, hands-free while driving. May I help you?”
“She’s finally joined the twentieth century twenty years into the twenty-first, and she wants us to have a party,” Freddie said.
“Young Freddie is particularly mouthy this morning,” Sam said. “We may need to do something about that at some point.”
“Whatever,” Freddie said.
“If you two are finished,” Malone said, sounding amused, “what’s up with McLeod?”
“The whole world wanted her dead, and no one is sorry that someone killed her. Other than that, we’ve got jack. What’re you hearing from Crime Scene on the search for a murder weapon?”
“Nothing yet. I’m hearing we’re looking for a Garden Weasel or some such thing?”
“Yep.”
“Ouch.”
“Right?”
“What’s your theory?” Malone asked.
“Heat of the moment. Someone confronted her in the garage, they argued, it got heated, the perp reached for the first thing he or she could find and swung for the neck, scoring a direct hit.”
“If they took the thing with them, we might never find it.”
“I know, and there’s also the very good possibility that if we do find it, we won’t get squat from it, because we’re probably looking at a first-timer with no prints in the system, rather than a career criminal.”
“True.”
“Let me tell you, Cap. This woman had it coming. Her scheme was so brazen as to be impossible to comprehend.”
“I read about it in the paper yesterday.”
“No one in her life was immune. Her own siblings, cousins and closest friends… It’s unreal. It’d be like me scamming you guys, my sisters, Shelby.”
“I’m not giving you my money,” Freddie said. “It’s enough that I’ve already turned over my soul to you.”
“Do you see what I mean about young Freddie?” Sam asked the captain.
He replied with wheezing laughter.
“It’s not funny!” Sam said.
“Yes, it is,” Freddie and the captain said together.
Freddie shot her a smug look.
“I can end this call with the push of one button.”
“She has no idea which button,” Freddie said, “so that’s an empty threat.”
It was a relief, in a way, to be getting back to some semblance of normalcy after the shock of her father’s death and the compounding shock of Conklin’s culpability.
The levity was a welcome respite from the pervasive grief that’d touched everyone who’d loved Skip Holland, including Freddie Cruz and Jake Malone.
“Remember the good old days when he was afraid of me?”
“I do,” Malone said, “and I think I like this better.”
“Me, too,” Freddie said. “She’s taking me on a nooner with her husband. I shouldn’t be subjected to these things.”
“Uh… I don’t know how to reply to that.”
“Nick and I are going to have a chat with the reporter who asked if we’re going to have kids ‘of our own.’”
“Oh damn. Really?”
“Yep.”
“Does she know you’re coming?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll take video,” Freddie said, “so we can all enjoy it.”
“Do I need to warn you to tread carefully so we don’t attract more negative publicity?” Malone asked.
“Nick will be with her to keep her under control,” Freddie said.
“That’s true,” Malone said, chuckling.
“If you two are quite finished, there’s something else I wanted to tell you, Cap,” Sam said. “Lenore Worthington came to see me this morning.”
“I heard that. What’s up there?”
“She heard we closed Dad’s cold case and asked if I’d be willing to take reopen her son Calvin’s case.”
“How’d you leave it with her?”
“That I’d run it up the flagpole. You’re the flagpole.”
“I’ll pull the files and take a look.”
“Thanks, Cap. I don’t want to leave her hanging. I told her I’d get back to her.”
“Understood. I remember that case. Stayed with me for a long time. We never had so much as a lead or a thread to pull, as you would say.”
“I’d love to dig into it after we close McLeod. If we close McLeod. Are we required to give despicable people the same level of effort we give innocent victims?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“There oughta be a law that says horrible people don’t get investigations when someone does the world a favor and ends them,” Sam said.
“Of course you didn’t say that out loud,” Malone replied.
“Of course I didn’t. But let it be said for the record, I’d much rather be taking a fresh look at Calvin Worthington’s murder than hearing about all the ways Ginny McLeod deserved a rototiller to the neck.”
“Duly noted,” Malone said. “I’ll check with Haggerty and the lab to see if they have anything helpful.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Will do. Enjoy the nooner. That reporter won’t know what hit her.”
“That’s the plan. Later, Cap.” She pressed a button to end the call and gave Freddie a smug look. “Check me out. Pressing buttons and getting it done.”
“Um, you put the hazards on.”
“I did not!”
He cracked up. “Made you look.”
“Oh my God. You’re a pain in the ass today.”
“I do what I can for the people.”
“That’s my line, and it’s trademarked, which means you’re not allowed to use it without my permission. Did you find the McLeods’ daughter at Catholic?”
“Duh, yes. Took me all of two seconds.”
“Now you’re being cocky.”
“If the truth hurts…”
Sam found a parking space near the studio to wait for Nick’s motorcade to arrive. “We’re doing the right thing confronting that reporter, right?”
“Hell yes. If nothing else, that reporter needs to be taught some basic manners. And it’ll be good for her to hear how her ignorant question was repeated back to your son in freaking middle school, which is hellish enough without that.”
“You said ‘freaking.’”
“Don’t you think this situation deserves a good ‘freaking’?”
“I do.”
“What she did is horrifying, Sam, and she deserves to be humiliated in front of her colleagues.”
“I don’t like to intentionally humiliate people, unless they’re murdering scumbags.”
“This is an exception worth making.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Anyone who isn’t an asshole would think so.”
“Wow, you’re on a tear today.”
“I love Scotty like a nephew. I hate that he heard about it and that you guys had to deal with explaining it to him.”
“I know, and thank you for loving him like a nephew. That’s sweet.”
“It’s true. I don’t have siblings. I have you and your family and Gonzo and Jeannie and the family we’ve created together.”
“I love that family.”
“I do, too, and when someone comes for one of us, they come for all of us.”
A flash of light caught Sam’s attention. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the motorcade pull onto the street. Her heart gave a happy lurch at knowing she’d see Nick in a minute. “Here comes the cavalry.”
They got out of Sam’s car to wait on the sidewalk.
Brant was the first one out of Nick’s car.
The handsome young agent took a good look around, nodded to Sam and Freddie and then opened the door for Nick.
Other agents swarmed the area, and some went inside ahead of them.
They had this down to a well-oiled routine they never deviated from, which was what kept Nick as safe as he could be under the circumstances.
And then there he was, gorgeous in a dark navy suit, a steel-blue tie and a crisp white dress shirt. His handsome face lit up with delight when he saw her waiting for him. He held out a hand to her, and Sam went to him, oblivious to anyone else.
He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “How’s my cop?”
“Frustrated and annoyed until right now.”
Smiling down at her, he said, “Why? What happened right now?”
“You happened.”
“What do you say we go make Kayla’s day?”
“I say that’s a fine idea.”
Holding hands, they walked into the building, where a shocked receptionist greeted them.
“Allow me,” Sam said. “I have a way with receptionists.”
“Have at it, babe.”
Sam showed the woman her badge. “We’d like to see Kayla Owen, please.”
“I, um, does she know you’re coming?”
“She doesn’t, and we’d prefer to surprise her. Can you make that happen?”
Rattled by Sam’s unblinking stare, the woman made a call that brought another woman to the reception desk a few seconds later.
“Please take Vice President and Mrs. Cappuano to Kayla Owen’s office,” the original woman said to the second one.
The second woman stared at them for ten full seconds before she blinked and seemed to recover herself. “Right this way.”
With the Secret Service surrounding them and Freddie somewhere in the scrum, Sam and Nick followed the woman up a flight of stairs and through frosted double doors bearing the WKLA logo.
Inside, they found yet another receptionist, who stood, her mouth falling open in shock.
Thankfully, she didn’t say anything to impede their progress as their guide took them around the reception desk, through another set of doors and past full-length windows behind which on-air talent watched them go by with stunned expressions.
“This is wicked fun,” Sam whispered to Nick as she noticed every eye in the place fixed on them as they walked by cubicles, leaving a trail of shocked people in their wake.
“So fun and about to get more so.”
“We’re bad, bad people to be enjoying this so much.”
“Nah. We’re pissed-off parents.”
Leave it to him to perfectly sum it up.
The woman leading them pointed to a group of offices at the end of a long corridor. “Third door on the right.”
“Thank you very much,” Nick said as they followed the two Secret Service agents leading the way.
At the doorway to Kayla Owen’s office, the agents stepped aside to allow Sam and Nick to go ahead of them.
Nick knocked on the door. “Sorry to disturb your work, Ms. Owen.”
The pretty young dark-haired reporter, her face covered in a thick layer of camera-ready makeup, looked up from her computer, double-taking as shock registered in her expression.