Chapter Eleven #2
“Add that info, too, if you would.”
When Paula was finished, Sam retrieved the notebook. “Thank you very much for your time.”
“I wish there was more I could do.”
“This helped.”
Paula walked them to the door. “I hope you find the person who did this.”
“I hope so, too,” Sam said. When they were outside, Sam zipped up her coat and pulled on gloves. “Thoughts?”
“This one reminds me of the Woodmansee case.”
“How so?”
“Perfectly ordinary people turning up dead for no good reason.”
“Yeah, that’s true. How can she have had a beef with someone bad enough for that person to bind her, gag her and leave her to die a slow, torturous death in the cold, and no one in her life is aware of it?”
After they got into Sam’s car, she started it to get the heat going.
“What’s our next move?”
“Before we talk to Ouellette, I want to talk to Archie about what’s on her phone and computer.”
“Let’s do it.”
“I’ve been through everything on her computer and phone for the last month, and I didn’t see anything that would indicate a problem with anyone,” Archie said thirty minutes later when Sam found him in his office at HQ.
“There has to be something,” Sam said.
“If there is, it’s not on her phone or computer.”
Sam’s frustration threatened to boil over, but that wouldn’t help her find a murderer.
“Do you want me to go back further than a month?”
“Yeah, I guess so. There has to be something.”
“Will do,” Archie said, using his chin to point. “Did you see what’s happening across the hall?”
“No, what?”
“Ramsey’s packing up his stuff. Farnsworth fired him.”
“What?”
“Crime Scene was able to tie him to the vandalism in your office. He’s also being charged with malicious mischief.”
“I need a moment to process this dream-come-true moment,” Sam said, although she was aware that Ramsey’s removal from the force didn’t end the threat he posed to her.
“I thought you might be pleased to hear this news.”
“How could he be so stupid as to think he wouldn’t get caught?”
“Just like Stahl making phone calls to the media from the lieutenants’ lounge.”
“Exactly! If I was going to come after a fellow officer,” Sam said, “I’d make sure no one could trace it back to me.”
“Like if you were, say, to investigate someone like Ramsey and discover he was having an affair?”
“Just like that, but that wasn’t me.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Archie said, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re far too busy to involve yourself in such petty matters.”
“That’s right.”
“Whoever investigated him did us all a big favor. We don’t need his shit around here after everything with Stahl, Conklin and Hernandez.”
“True.”
“What’re you hearing about your dad’s case?”
“There’s an evidentiary hearing after the holidays.”
“You don’t have to testify, do you?”
“No, I was kept at arm’s length on that one. Avery Hill and the FBI are working with the U.S. Attorney.”
“That’s good. We can’t afford any conflicts of interest on something that hot.”
“Right.”
“They’re going down for it, Sam. Tell me you know that.”
“I do, but it’s weird how it matters so much less to me than it did when my dad was still alive. What difference does it make now that he’s gone?”
“It makes all the difference,” Archie said, all signs of amusement long gone. “What they did was monstrous, and they deserve to fry for it. And Conklin, sitting on what he knew for four years. It’s total bullshit.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
“None of us can possibly know how hard this is for you, but trust me when I tell you that just about everyone on this force wants justice for your dad.”
“That’s good to know. Means a lot to me.”
“We want justice for Steven Coyne, too.”
“I do, too. For both of them.”
Weeks later, Sam was still trying to get her head around the facts of the shooting that had left her dad a quadriplegic—and the connection to the drive-by shooting of his first partner twenty years earlier.
All to protect a secret gambling ring run by City Councilman Roy Gallagher and his cohorts.
And Paul Conklin, her dad’s successor as deputy chief, had known all along who was behind the shooting and had sat on the information while pretending to be a close friend to her dad. It was beyond outrageous.
“Will you do me a favor?” Sam asked Archie.
“Anything you need.”
“Check to see if the coast is clear of Ramsey before I head downstairs?”
“Yep.”
While she waited for Archie to return to his office, she thought about how lucky she was to have friends like him and many others at work. The Stahls, Ramseys and Conklins had been the minority during her career, and she was relieved to be rid of Ramsey on the job.
“All clear,” Archie said when he returned, “but I’ll walk out with you just in case he resurfaces.”
“Normally, I’d say no need for such things, but this time I’ll just say thanks.”
“You got it.”
Archie walked her all the way downstairs to the pit, where she found her squad putting her office back to rights after the CSU investigation.
“Did you hear the news, Lieutenant?” Detective Jeannie McBride asked, smiling widely.
“I did.”
“Rumor has it that the chief is going after his pension, along with that of Stahl, Conklin and Hernandez.” They’d found out after the fact that Hernandez, the Patrol commander, had also known who was behind her father’s shooting and had kept the information to himself.
“Good,” Sam said. “None of them deserve to live fat off the city when they left the department in disgrace.”
“No, they certainly do not,” Jeannie said fiercely.
“Thank you all for doing this,” Sam said to Jeannie, as well as Detectives Green and O’Brien.
“No problem,” Green said. “We put your files back together as best we could, but you might want to flip through to make sure things are where you want them.”
“I have no doubt they’re better organized now than they were before. I sincerely appreciate this, you guys.”
“You have enough to deal with,” O’Brien said.
He’d recently joined the squad to replace Detective Will Tyrone, who’d left the department in the wake of his friend Detective Arnold’s murder. O’Brien was fitting in nicely.
“What’s the latest with the case?” Green asked.
“We’re getting nowhere fast,” Sam said. “Let’s gather in the conference room in ten to go over what we have so far.” She went into her office, which was cleaner than it had ever been, and tried to find the legendary mojo that was missing on this case.
“Knock, knock.”
Sam looked up to find Dr. Trulo in her doorway. “Come in.”
He came in and closed the door. “Heard about what happened with Ramsey tossing your office and getting himself fired.”
“I got rid of him without having to lift a finger.”
A smile teased at the corners of Trulo’s mouth. “He remains a powerful enemy, however.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that and will watch my back.”
“I’m glad you have Secret Service to help keep an eye on your back.”
“That doesn’t suck in situations such as this.”
“I came down to see if you need me to do anything for you before tonight.”
Her mind went completely blank. What was tonight?
“Sam,” Trulo said, sounding exasperated and amused. “The second grief group meeting is tonight.”
“Oh, right.” They’d agreed to get a second meeting on the schedule before the holidays so people could turn to each other for support if needed. “I knew that.”
“Don’t make it worse by lying to my face.”
“I’m not lying. I remembered!”
“No, you didn’t,” he said, chuckling, “but that’s okay. I’ve got you covered if you can’t make it. I understand you have a lot on your plate these days, especially after the tragedy in Des Moines.”
“It is a lot, Doc. Nick and I are really struggling with how best to support the families in Iowa.”
“May I?” he asked, gesturing toward her visitor chair.
“Sure.” Her team could wait five more minutes for her.
“The best thing you both can do is to go there and show you care about what happened to them, that you care about the underlying issues that cause these things to happen, that you’re determined to do what you can to try to bring about change.”
“It feels so inadequate.”
“Having the president and first lady come to offer their condolences won’t feel inadequate to the people affected.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.”
“That’s good to know. Thank you.”
“I’m always here for you, Sam, whether it’s department related or not. You have a friend in me.”
“That’s very comforting. I’ll be there tonight.”
“I requested a bigger room in light of the interest I’ve received since we were on the Today show.”
“Oh wow. Has it been a lot?”
“More than three hundred departments have reached out to ask about our blueprint, and I’ve heard from quite a few people associated with past cases of ours who were interested in attending the next meeting. Thus the bigger room.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
“It’s all thanks to you and your brilliant idea.”
“And thanks to your brilliant execution of my idea.”
“We make a good team, you and me.”
“Yes, we do. Speaking of that… You might be hearing from my husband.”
Trulo’s eyebrows lifted. “About?”
“Leading a task force looking to address the connection between mental health and gun violence.”
“The president… wants me… to…”
Amused by his flustered reaction, Sam said, “Lead his mental health task force. If you’re willing, that is.”
“Of course I am. What an unbelievable honor that would be. I assume you suggested me for this?”
“Only when he thought I might make for a good chair.”
Trulo laughed at that before he made a futile attempt to curb his amusement.
“It’s okay to laugh. I thought it was funny, too.”
“Would you be on this task force with me?”
“In sort of a figurehead kind of way, like I am with the grief group.”
“Ah, I see how it is.”
“You do all the work. I get all the glory.”
They shared another laugh. “I’m happy to share the glory with you, my friend.” He stood to leave. “Take good care of yourself while you’re helping your husband care for others, especially in light of what you’re already dealing with.”
“I will,” she said, touched by his concern for her after the recent loss of her beloved father. “Thank you again.”
“See you later.”