Chapter Twenty-Eight
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
W hen it became clear they were moving in circles with Frank and that the girls had made a run for it, Sam decided to make Frank their guest for the evening.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! I haven’t done anything. My wife has been murdered, and you want to lock me up in jail?”
“Here’s the deal, Frank. I don’t trust you. You lied to me. You held back vital information, and you may or may not know where your daughters are. Since we don’t need another person attached to this case running from us, you’ll be our guest for the next little while until we sort this out.”
“Can you do that without charging me?”
“Do you want me to charge you with obstruction or being a flight risk since your daughters already took off? I can easily make a case for both those things.”
“No, I don’t want that.”
“So go with Detective Cruz, and we’ll talk to you in the morning. In the meantime, if you happen to think of where your daughters might be, I’d recommend coming clean on that. If I find out you’ve known all along, you will be charged with obstruction. Do we understand each other?”
“Yeah. ”
“Right this way,” Freddie said.
Frank got up and followed him from the room.
Sam went to find Carlucci and Dominguez. “Evening, ladies.”
“Hey, LT. What’s up?”
She briefed them on the day’s events and filled them in on the BOLO for the Myerson girls and Zeke Bellamy.
“So we’re thinking they did it, and now they’re on the run?”
“Possibly, or they didn’t do it and are scared they’re going to be charged.”
“What’s your gut saying?”
“They did it, they thought they were in the clear because they had alibis, and now they’re running scared. We’ll continue to look for them tonight, and if we don’t get anywhere, I’ll bring in the marshals in the morning. Keep me posted on any developments overnight.”
“Will do, LT,” Carlucci said.
Freddie came to join them. “Bellamy’s Mustang was found at a mall in West Virginia with no sign of him or the girls anywhere near it. It’s being seized and brought in for analysis.”
“Well, that’s something, anyway,” Sam said. “Now we know they’re heading west.”
“Or they want us to think they are,” Freddie said.
“True. I’m punching out. You know where to find me if you need me.”
“We got this,” Dominguez said.
“Thanks, ladies. Freddie, go home.”
“I’m gone.”
Sam collected her belongings and locked her office. She was headed for the morgue and a quick getaway when she remembered the grief group meeting.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered as she took a hard right and went upstairs to poke her head in for a few minutes. At the door to the meeting room, she stopped short when she saw her sister Angela being comforted by Lenore Worthington and several other people.
Angela hadn’t told Sam she planned to attend tonight, and while she was glad to see her there, she wasn’t sure Ang would want Sam to witness her grief. So she stayed in the doorway and out of view.
“Thank you, guys,” Angela said after a full minute of silence. “It helps to be able to air it out with people who understand.”
“We understand, honey,” Lenore said as she tucked a strand of Angela’s reddish-brown hair behind her ear.
Angela rested her head on Lenore’s shoulder. “I’m just not sure what to do with the anger I feel toward him. It’s eclipsed all the good to the point that I can barely recall why I loved him. Before this happened, I had no trouble listing the many reasons I loved him. But this…”
“Being angry with someone who was fighting a disease is a difficult space to be in,” Dr. Trulo said gently. “On the one hand, you know intellectually that he couldn’t help it. Emotionally, however, you wonder how he could’ve chosen the drugs over you and your children.”
“That’s it exactly.”
Dr. Trulo leaned in a bit. “But you know he didn’t actually make that choice, right?”
“Yes, I know he didn’t, that in his right mind, he never would’ve chosen anything over us, but when he bought those drugs on the street, he had to know how dangerous that was.”
Sam’s entire body ached for her sweet sister.
“He couldn’t have known they were lethal,” Sam said as she stepped into the room.
The woman sitting on the other side of Angela got up to make her seat available to Sam, who sat and reached for her sister.
“He couldn’t have known he was taking poison,” Sam said softly as she held her beloved sister. “He was murdered. ”
“How c-could he have let this happen?” Angela asked on a sob.
“One thing I know for certain about your Spencer was that he loved you more than anything in this world. He was besotted with you from the very beginning. He would look at you like you hung the moon. There’s no way he would’ve left you unless he had no choice.”
“I’m angry, too, Angela,” a man said.
Sam glanced his way and recognized Brad Albright, who’d lost his wife, Mary Alice, to the same poisoned drugs that had killed Spencer.
“Sometimes I’m so angry, I scare myself,” Brad said. “But then I try to rein it in because I don’t want my kids to see me that way. I don’t want them to know I’m angry with their mother for being an addict or buying drugs on the street or dying because of that choice. I want them to remember how much she loved them. So I’m trying to control the anger. It won’t bring Mary Alice back, and it certainly won’t make anything easier in this new normal.”
“You’re right,” Angela said. “Thank you for that reminder, Brad.”
He nodded and used a tissue to wipe away a tear.
“The anger is normal,” Trey Marchand said. His young daughter, Vanessa, was shot during a sniper siege. “For months after my Nessie was killed, I wanted to kill someone. I thought it would make me feel better. Luckily, I figured out that wouldn’t help before I acted on it. But, oh, that urge was hot and wild in me for a long time.”
“If any of you feels the need to kill someone, please give me a call,” Dr. Trulo said, sparking laughter that broke the tension in the room.
The meeting ended a short time later, and Sam walked out with Roni and Angela, who stopped in the hallway.
“I’d like to talk to Brad,” Angela said. “Don’t wait on me. I’ll be fine.” She hugged them both. “Thank you for being there for me and for the support.”
“Call me if there’s anything I can do—any time,” Roni said.
“Thanks for being such a great friend to me. I’m inching closer to joining your Wild Widows. I’m not quite there yet, but soon.”
“There’s no rush. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Let me know you got home okay,” Sam said with another hug for her sister.
“Okay, Mom.”
“Just do it.”
“I will.”
Angela walked over to speak to Brad, who was talking to Trey and Lenore.
“You and the good doctor have created something very special and important with this group,” Roni said as she and Sam walked downstairs. “I hope you know that.”
“I’m sorry there’s so much need for it.”
“Me, too.”
“Where’d you park?”
“I took the Metro.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“Really?”
“Yes, silly. You’re not walking to the Metro alone at this hour.”
“I do it all the time.”
“Cut that out. It’s not safe.” They stepped into cool darkness outside the morgue entrance. Vernon jumped out of the SUV when he saw them coming. “Sorry to keep you so late, Vernon. Can we drop my pal in Capitol Hill?”
“We sure can.”
“Thank you, Vernon,” Roni said.
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
“Good. Call her that instead of me.”
“You’re ma’am, too, when we have company, ma’am. ”
“One step forward, three steps back.”
“We’re a work in progress.” He shut the door and got in the driver’s seat. “What’s the address, second ma’am?”
Roni laughed and recited her address. “He’s funny.”
Sam lowered her voice. “He’s amazing. They both are. A pleasure to be with all day.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you have a bit of a reputation for—how shall I say this diplomatically—hating people?”
Sam snorted out a laugh. “You’re not supposed to know that.”
“It’s my job to know stuff about you, ma’am.”
“Call me that and you won’t have a job for long, ma’am .”
“I stand corrected.”
“I’m teasing, and you’re not wrong about me and people. These two—especially Vernon—they’re special. He reminds me of my dad.”
“Oh wow. I love that for you.”
“I love it for me, too. Funny how that comes along right when there’s a void to be filled.”
“I know all about that.”
“Yes, I guess you do. I hope you know how happy we all are for you and Derek. And for little Maeve.”
“She’s my buddy. I adore her.”
“I love to hear that. He suffered so much after he lost Vic, and I know you did, too, after Patrick. I hear stories like yours and his and Angela’s, and I just wonder how people survive that kind of loss. I’m not sure I would.”
“Yes, you would. You’d find a way for your kids. But let’s not talk about things that aren’t going to happen.”
“Didn’t mean to make it about me. We were talking about you and Derek, and I’m so proud of you for continuing to move forward and for all of it.”
“That means a lot to me. Your friendship and the job have been such special gifts to me on this journey I never expected to be on.”
“I hate how we met, but I’m so glad to have you in my life. I can’t wait to meet your little one.”
“It’s a boy,” Roni whispered. “I haven’t told anyone except Derek. Even my parents don’t know.”
“Congratulations, Roni. He’s a lucky boy to have you as a mom.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I already know it.”
When Vernon brought the SUV to a stop outside Roni’s building, she leaned over to hug Sam. “Thanks for the lift.”
When Roni reached for the passenger door handle, Sam said, “Wait for him, or he gets cranky.”
“I heard that,” Vernon said.
“Heard what?”
Roni laughed as Jimmy helped her out and walked her to the door.
“Thanks for the detour, guys,” Sam said when they drove past the turn that would’ve taken her to Ninth Street once upon a time.
“No problem,” Vernon said.
Sam’s phone buzzed with a text from Neveah. Did the deep dive on Worthy and found him to be a well-respected attorney and an upstanding citizen of Cleveland who’s the ultimate family man. He’s known for being close to his children and grandchildren. Lost his wife to cancer fifteen years ago and has been active in cancer-related charities ever since. He’s also on the board of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I couldn’t find anything negative about him.
“Then what the hell is he doing with my dirtbag mother-in-law?” Sam said out loud.
“What’s that?” Vernon asked.
“Talking to myself.” She responded to Neveah to thank her for the assist.
No problem !
Ten minutes later, they pulled through the gates to the White House.
“What time are we out of here in the morning?” Vernon asked as he held the door for her.
“Around seven thirty?”
“Is that for the funeral?”
“Shit. Don’t tell anyone I forgot about that.”
“They won’t hear it from us.”
“It’s at nine at the National Cathedral. What time should we leave?”
“Eight thirty should be good.”
That gave her another hour of sleep. “Thanks for everything today, guys.”
“An honor and a privilege,” Vernon said as Jimmy nodded. “See you in the morning.”
Though she was eager to get home to her own family, Sam continued up the stairs to the third floor to check on Shelby, Avery, Noah and baby Maisie. As she went, she texted Freddie, Gonzo and Malone to remind them she’d be in after Tom’s funeral in the morning.
See you there, Malone replied.
She gave a soft knock on the door, hoping she wouldn’t wake a sleeping baby or toddler.
Shelby came to the door, wearing a pink silk bathrobe and a big smile. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Sorry to come by so late.”
“It’s only eight. Noah’s down for the count, but the rest of us are up. Come in.”
“I thought it was later for some reason. I lose track of time during days like this.”
“Was it a long one?”
“I’m just getting home. How are things here? ”
“Pretty good. Avery’s recovery is to the point of itching and bitching.”
Sam laughed as she took in her FBI agent friend, holding his little girl with one arm while his other was in a sling, healing from a bullet wound inflicted by Harlan Peckham. He’d set out to avenge his imprisoned parents by killing the law enforcement officers who’d prosecuted their case. He’d succeeded in killing Tom Forrester, but had thankfully only injured Avery.
“Don’t listen to my lovely wife. There’s been no bitching.”
Shelby gave her husband a withering look.
“Okay, maybe a little bitching, but I hate being sidelined.”
“You’ll be back to the rat race before long, so try to enjoy this downtime with your family.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying, too,” Shelby added. “He’s on a forced paternity leave.”
Avery kissed the top of Maisie’s head. “I’m trying to decompress and enjoy the time off, especially since you caught that son of a bitch Peckham.”
“Avery! Language. Not in front of the baby.”
“She’s not even two weeks old, darlin’.”
“She’s already learning.”
“Is that true, Sam?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“Sam! Language.”
“That counts as a swear?”
“I’ve been asking for a list,” Avery said, grinning at his wife, “but so far, it seems the rules are being made up as we go.”
When Maisie started to fuss, Shelby took her from her daddy. “Thanks for popping in, Sam. We’ll miss having ya’ll right downstairs. I’m going to put this little girl down for the night. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sleep tight, little one,” Sam said.
“We’re moving out next week,” Avery added when they were alone. “Thank you again for having us for all this time. ”
“I wish you could stay. We like having you here.”
“I’d stay forever if I wasn’t getting flak at work about being too cozy with POTUS and FLOTUS.”
“To hell with them. They’re just jealous.”
He got up to walk her out. “Probably, but the flak is a distraction.”
“It’s good to see you up and about,” Sam said. “I didn’t care for you getting shot, so please don’t let that happen again.”
“I’ll try not to. Hey, before you go… Heard an interesting rumor through the grapevine.”
“What’s that?”
“Juan Rodriguez might not be dead after all.”
Having learned her lesson with her colleagues, she quickly decided to tell Avery the truth. “He’s not.”
“How long have you known?”
“Almost from the start.”
“Hmmm.”
“Hmmm what?”
“Apparently, his best friend and roommate is making some noise about you interviewing him as part of a homicide investigation when you might’ve known he was alive.”
Sam hadn’t seen that coming, even though she was glad to know Isaac had been told the truth. “I was doing what NCIS asked me to do as a matter of national security.”
“You really interviewed the roommate, knowing the guy was alive?”
“Yes! They asked me to conduct the investigation the way I normally would, so that’s what I did.”
“Huh.”
Exasperated now, Sam said, “What else is on your mind, Avery?”
“I think you should expect some trouble over this, Sam. People are a bit… incredulous… that you’d put the guy through it, knowing his friend is alive.”
“Anything else? ”
“That’s it.”
She reached for the doorknob to leave. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Don’t be pissed at the messenger. I wanted you to be prepared.”
“And now I am. Sleep well, friend. Glad to see you on the mend.”
“Are you going to the funeral in the morning?”
“I’m speaking.”
“Can I hitch a ride with you? They’re not letting me drive yet.”
“Of course. Leaving at eight thirty.”
“See you then, and don’t be pissed at me. I wanted you to know what was being said.”
“Good night, Avery.”
As she went down one flight of stairs to the residence, she processed what Avery had told her. People were talking about Juan and her role in perpetrating the deception. Should she get out ahead of any reporting on the matter, or would it be better to keep her mouth shut when, or if, it became public?
She had no idea, so she planned to ask the savviest media strategist she knew—the guy she slept with.