Chapter Ten #2
“Should we do that before we see the McLeods’ daughter?”
“Probably. Malone said they have something interesting.”
“All right. We’ll go there first.”
“With a stop for lunch on the way?”
Delays annoyed her, and this day had already had too many of them, although the time with Nick didn’t count as a delay.
The interview had been unexpected, but for a good cause if it made one person think differently about how they spoke to adoptive parents or about adopted children.
She also wondered how big of a story Nick’s decision not to run for president was going to be.
Hopefully, it’d be one news cycle, and then something else would take the stage.
Even as she had that thought, she had a sinking feeling it might turn out to be a bigger deal than either of them was anticipating.
At the lab, located in the city’s southwestern quadrant, Sam found Haggerty in the office he used when he was there.
He stood when he saw them in the doorway. “I heard the news that your husband’s not going to run. Gotta say I’m shocked. I figured he’d be a shoo-in.”
“Turns out he’s not interested.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“It’s somewhat refreshing to hear a guy put his family ahead of his ambition. Good for him.”
“Good for all of us.”
They followed Haggerty to a locked room. He used a key to open the door. “Come in.” On a table inside the room, a series of yard implements had been laid out. Each of them had been tagged.
“Per the info you provided from the ME, we looked for anything that could make a ragged wound like the one in Mrs. McLeod’s neck. We narrowed it down to these.”
“I assume you’ve had them analyzed.”
“We did, and while they all had grass and dirt and other refuse on them, only this one was wiped clean.” He pointed to an object with a long handle and sharp points on the end. “Unfortunately, every part of it was wiped clean. Even the handle.”
“Figures. It can never be that easy.”
“But I’d guess that’s your murder weapon.”
“Where’d you find it?”
“In a closet in a basement bedroom.”
“So the person who killed Ginny, possibly in a fit of rage, had the presence of mind to thoroughly clean and stash the implement he or she used to do the deed.”
“We’re pulling the drains from the downstairs bathrooms and the kitchen and taking another look at the outdoor hoses.”
“Thanks for the info.” To Freddie, she said, “Take a picture of that, will you?”
He withdrew his phone and snapped the photo they’d add to the murder board.
“Let me know if the drains yield anything new,” Sam said to Haggerty.
“You’ll be the first to know. I was reading about the fraud case. You got motive all over the place, huh?”
“You know it. Almost everyone who knew her wanted her dead.”
“I don’t envy you this one.”
“Do you envy me the others?”
Haggerty laughed. “Nope, but they do keep us in business.”
“Unfortunately, yes, they do. Let’s hit it, Detective Cruz.”
When they returned to the car, Sam called Jeannie McBride and asked her to do another canvass of the McLeods’ neighborhood to determine if anyone saw someone cleaning something with the outdoor hose on Sunday afternoon.
“I’ll call you if I get anything,” Jeannie said.
She no sooner ended that call when her phone rang with another from Darren Tabor, her favorite reporter from the Washington Star. “What’s up?” Sam asked when she took the call.
“Seriously, Sam? You handed the exclusive of the year to that hag who asked you that awful question last week?”
“First of all, I didn’t hand anything to anyone. That was my husband’s scoop to give to whomever he wanted. It was his call, not mine.”
“Still… I’m disappointed.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“You could make it up to me with a scoop on the McCleod investigation. A lot of people are talking about that after what she did.”
“I haven’t got anything yet.”
“But when you do?”
“I’ll keep you in mind.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Gotta go.” She quickly closed the phone before he could say anything to that and drove toward Catholic University on Michigan Avenue, with a detour to one of Freddie’s favorite sandwich shops.
Sam ordered a veggie pocket, while he got a large steak bomb full of onions, peppers and cheese.
The smell made Sam’s mouth water and probably added five pounds to her ass by osmosis.
He downed the entire thing as well as two bags of chips and a large cola.
Sam was living for the day when his metabolism slowed down and his horrendous dietary choices caught up to him. With her luck, she wouldn’t live to see that day.
“I hope you have some gum or something so you don’t kill anyone with your onion breath. Namely me.”
“I’ve got gum.”
“Congratulations, you’ve made it so we both smell like grilled-onion BO.”
“Maybe that’s what you smell like, but I’m like a fresh spring day over here.”
She snorted with laughter. “Sure you are.”
After arriving at the Catholic campus, Freddie directed her to park outside one of the residence halls. “She’s in room 311.”
“I don’t even want to know how you found that out.”
“It’s better if you don’t ask.”
“I’d wonder what she’s still doing here when her mother was murdered, but knowing what I do about the mother, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“True.”
They followed a group of young people through the main door but were stopped from proceeding to the elevator by a security guard. “May I help you?”
Sam and Freddie showed him their badges. “We’re looking for Mandi McLeod in 311.”
“I can call her to come down.”
“We’d prefer to go up.”
They engaged in a visual standoff before the guard finally blinked. “I know who you are.”
“That’s nice. Can you get out of my way now?”
He frowned but stepped aside.
In the elevator, Sam said, “For fuck’s sake. Why do people waste my time telling me they know who I am?”
“Because seeing someone famous makes their day.”
“Ugh. Shut up. I’m not famous.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I say I’m not famous, so that’s the end of it.”
“Okay.”
“Stop being insubordinate.”
“I can’t. It’s too much fun.”
She glared at him on the way out of the elevator and followed the signs to room 311. “She’d better be here, or I’m gonna be pissed.”
“You’ll be pissed either way.”
“True.” He amused the hell out of her, not that she could ever let him know that when he was already out of control. It was her own fault, but she wouldn’t have him any other way.