Chapter Eleven
The captain headed for the door, and Sam turned to Marcus, who was unzipping the blanket he called a coat.
“So this is where they keep the dead people, huh?”
“Focus, Marcus. I’m on a tight schedule.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me exactly what’s injured so I can work around it.”
“Face, arm, hip.”
He gasped. “The same hip?”
“Yes.”
“Damn it, Sam. Did you rebreak it?”
“I really hope not.”
“What does that mean? Haven’t you been to the ER?”
“No time for that.” She reached out an arm to the assistant. “Help me up and move slowly.”
The young woman looked terrified as she gave Sam an arm up. When she cried out in pain, the woman released her hold on her so quickly that Sam nearly fell over. She grasped the counter to remain standing.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Cappuano,” the woman said tearfully.
“Not your fault,” Sam said softly.
Any attempt to put weight on her right leg resulted in agony. She wanted to wail. This couldn’t be happening. Not this week.
“Sam,” Marcus said. “You need to be in the hospital.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t. He needs me. Please, Marcus. Just do the fitting and let me get back to work.”
Though she could tell her friend had plenty he wanted to say, he bit his tongue and got to work.
The gown was a lovely burgundy velvet creation that’d made her feel sexy and curvy in a good way the first time she’d tried it on. This time, she focused on staying conscious and not screaming in pain as her injured limbs were carefully arranged around the dress.
“Are you sure?—”
“Please. Just do what you need to.”
She closed her eyes and focused on breathing while they did their thing.
“That should do it,” Marcus said a few minutes later. “Let’s get it off.”
It hurt as much coming off as it had going on, resulting in cold sweat and nausea.
“You have hair and makeup set for tomorrow?” he asked as his assistant put the dress on a hanger.
“I assume Lilia has that covered. Thank you for coming in.”
“Gotta say, this is my first fitting in a morgue.”
Sam smiled. “First time for everything.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t tell anyone.”
“We never would, love.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Marcus.”
“For you, anything.”
Sam lowered herself into the office chair and exhaled a deep breath before indulging in a pity party. Why did these things always have to happen at the worst possible time? Whenever Nick needed her to be at the top of her game, she got banged up and bruised. She reached up to wipe away a tear and gasped when her fingers connected with the cut on her face.
Son of a bitch.
She had no time for pity parties.
Someone had murdered Tom Forrester, and she needed to find that person, arrest them and hope they spent the rest of their miserable life in prison.
Sam wheeledherself back to the pit, fortunately not encountering anyone else in the hallway as she used her left foot to propel herself forward. If this hadn’t been the worst possible time for an injury, she would’ve found it funny. However, nothing about this was funny.
“Cruz!”
He popped up from inside his cubicle. “Yes?”
“Any word on a lawyer for Bryant?”
“That’s why I’m here,” a very young man said as he came into the pit from the other side, eyeing her in the desk chair as she made her way toward him.
“And you are?”
“Tyson Conway, Esquire.” He handed her a business card. “I heard the congressman’s attorneys fired him and thought I might be able to help.”
“His assets are frozen.”
“I’m aware.”
Sam eyed him skeptically. “What’s in it for you?”
“I’m growing my career. A case like this could help.”
“Do you have any idea how much it costs to defend a case like this?”
“I do.”
“It’s your funeral.” She turned to Freddie. “Detective Cruz, please bring Bryant up to meet his new attorney.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You can wait for him in interview one, second door on the left down the hall.”
“Thank you, and may I say, it’s an honor to meet you in person. I’ve long admired your work.”
Sam wasn’t in the mood for suck-up lawyers. “Thanks.” She pushed the chair into her office and wanted to scream with frustration when it wouldn’t fit between the desk and file cabinet, forcing her to get up and move to the other chair. Fuck, that hurt. Was it time for more pain pills? She glanced at her watch. Not for a few more hours. She’d never make it.
Gonzo came to the door. “You got a second?”
“Yep.”
He came in and closed the door. “There’re hundreds of messages between Cox and Forrester in Forrester’s email.” Gonzo put a stack of pages on her desk. “Archie pulled everything between the two of them for the last year. I thought you’d want to see this.”
“You thought right.”
He took a closer look at her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll go through this while Bryant talks to his new lawyer.”
“Who’d he get?”
“A guy named Tyson…” She looked down at the card she’d tossed on the desk. “Conway, Esquire.”
Gonzo smiled. “He introduced himself that way?”
“Sure did, and he doesn’t care that Bryant’s assets are frozen.”
“Interesting.”
“Whatever it takes to get Bryant in a room to answer our questions. Any word on his ex-wife and son?”
“Nothing yet, but Jesse’s team is on it.”
“They’ll find them.”
“I’m so disappointed in the mother, Rosemary. She seemed to understand the stakes. I didn’t expect this.”
“I’m sorry she let you down, but people suck.”
“Yes, they do. Hey, so I might need to take a little time off in the next few weeks. Christina and I have found a more secure apartment complex, and we’re going to move when our lease is up at the end of April.”
After the home invasion at Shelby and Avery’s, perpetrated by people he’d once arrested, Sam had advised her team to seek out more secure residences. She worried about their increased exposure due to her higher profile as first lady.
“Take whatever time you need. I’m glad you found a place.”
“It wasn’t easy. Everything is so freaking expensive.”
A thought occurred to her. “If you haven’t already signed the new lease, why don’t you just rent Ninth Street from us? We’ll give you a good deal.”
“What? No way.”
“Yes way. It’s sitting empty, and we’re never there.” Except for that dreaded meeting they had scheduled there for later in the week with Nick’s mother… “Well, almost never there.”
“Are you serious?”
“Let me talk to Nick, but I’m sure he’d agree that having you guys there would be way better than having it sitting empty. The Secret Service ramped up security big-time there when Nick was VP, so it’d be much safer than where you are now.”
“Sam… That’d be incredible. Your place is gorgeous.”
“What do you pay for rent now?”
“Thirty-eight hundred.”
“A month?”
Gonzo laughed. “That’s the going rate these days.”
“Holy shit.”
“You’ve been out of the rental market for a while.”
“Apparently. That’s shocking to me.”
“What’s the rent at the White House?”
“Hahaha. We pay for all our own food, not to mention a huge nonfinancial price to live there.”
“I wouldn’t trade what you guys deal with for free rent. No way.”
“No such thing as a free lunch. I’ll text Nick and let you know.”
“Even if it doesn’t work out, thank you for the idea.”
“It’ll work out.”
“You’re the best.”
“I know!”
He walked out laughing, and she felt good about the idea she’d come up with. She sent a text to Nick outlining her thoughts on Ninth Street and then got to work reviewing the work and personal emails between Cox and Forrester. They’d spoken in a cryptic language, which had probably been intentional. Maybe they’d known their messages would be reviewed someday. She could hear Forrester saying, “Why make it easy on them?”
She learned they’d played tennis, sailed Cox’s boat, had dinner with their wives and families, participated in baseball and football fantasy leagues together and had lunch at least once, if not twice, per week. By any measure, Forrester appeared to have been Cox’s best friend. So why hadn’t Cox told her that when she’d asked about their relationship? Why would he want to hide that fact from her?
Had their friendship soured?
Had Bryant been the cause of that?
After thinking it through for a few minutes, she picked up the phone and called Leslie Forrester.
A man answered the phone.
“This is Lieutenant Holland with the MPD. May I please speak to Leslie Forrester?”
“She’s lying down at the moment. Could I have her call you?”
“I’d really like to speak to her now, if possible.”
After a long silence, the man said, “Let me see if she’s able.”
Resigned to waiting, she pressed the speaker button on the phone, put down the receiver and continued to read the message traffic between the two men, becoming more confused with every message that made no sense to her.
A rustling in the background on the call preceded Leslie coming on the line.
“I’m so sorry to bother you again at this difficult time,” Sam said.
“It’s okay. I want to help if I can.”
“I have a question about Tom’s relationship with Reginald Cox.”
“Reggie is one of Tom’s closest friends. They went to college and law school together.”
“It’s interesting to me that when I met with Cox yesterday, he didn’t mention that. He talked about Tom in his role as a U.S. Attorney but said nothing about the outsized role Tom played in Cox’s personal life. Do you know why that would be?”
“No, I can’t imagine why he would’ve kept that part out of it. The two of them are like brothers. Or I guess I should say they were. I still can’t believe Tom is gone.”
“I’m so sorry to have to add to your grief with my questions.”
“I understand you’re just doing your job.”
“Did you notice any strain between Tom and Reggie in recent weeks?”
“Not that I can recall, but like Aurora mentioned yesterday, Tom was unusually stressed in the last few months. I tried to get him to talk about it, but as was often the case with his work, he couldn’t say much.”
“Did he ever indicate undue pressure on him from Cox or anything like that?”
“Not to me. Conlon might know more about that. Would you like to speak to him? He’s here.”
Sam was intrigued to realize that Young was still at the Forresters’ home and must be the man who’d answered the phone. “I’m due to see him tomorrow.” She wanted to be able to see the man’s face when she asked her questions. “If you wouldn’t mind keeping our conversation between us, I’d appreciate that.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“If you think of anything else that might be relevant, even if it seems like something insignificant, will you please give me a call?”
“Of course. Whatever I can do to help.”
“Thank you, Leslie. And again, my heartfelt sympathies to you and your family.”
“We appreciate your kindness. Conlon will have the details about the service when you see him.”
“Good to know. I’ll be there.”
“Thank you again for being willing to speak about Tom.”
“It’s an honor to be asked. I’ll see you there, if not before.”
Sam ended the call with more questions than she’d had before. What was the deal with Conlon Young?
She used her cell to call Faith.
“Hey, Sam. How’s it going?”
“Slow and frustrating.”
“I heard Bryant got a lawyer.”
“He’s with the guy now. Not sure what the deal is with him. Do you know Tyson Conway?”
“Never heard of him.”
“Me either, but whatever gets Bryant into a room for an interview works for me.”
“Agreed.”
“I want to talk to you about Young.”
“What about him?”
“What’s his story? I just called Leslie, and he answered the phone.”
“I’m not surprised. They’re tight.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Minneapolis, but he came here for college and never left. He’s worked for Main Justice for twenty years and with Tom the whole time he was the USA.”
“I still find it odd that I work with you guys every day and had never heard of him before Tom was killed.”
“He works in the background. You wouldn’t have encountered him.”
“Have you ever picked up a vibe from him?”
“What kind of vibe?”
“The what-you-see-isn’t-what-you-get kind.”
“Never. He’s a super supportive colleague and friend. He’s the glue that keeps our office humming on all cylinders. He’s the first one to show up when someone has a baby or a death in the family or anything like that. We all love him.”
“Hmmm.”
“You can’t possibly be looking at him for this.”
“Not actively. Just trying to figure out the players and the various relationships.”
“It’s not him, Sam. There’s just no way. He’d have taken a bullet to protect Tom.”
“I appreciate the insight.”
“Promise me you aren’t going to let him think you suspect him. That would crush him.”
“I’ll be mindful of that.”
“Is anything popping?”
“Not yet. We’re still sifting through a mountain of messages and other data.”
“I heard some people here talking.”
“About?”
“It’s a rumor. There’s no way it’s true.”
“What, Faith?”
“That he was involved with someone outside his marriage. I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Who said it?”
“I’m not sure exactly.”
“Faith, come on. Of course you know who said it.”
“It was one of the admins.”
“I need a name.”
“You won’t say it came from me, will you?”
“Never.”
Her deep sigh came through loud and clear. “Anita Wentworth. She works with Conlon.”
A tingle traveled down Sam’s backbone.
She wrote down the woman’s name. “I’ll be at your office tomorrow to speak to Conlon and Anita. Please don’t say anything to her ahead of time.”
“I never would.”
“Thanks. See you then.”
Every case was frustrating in its own way, but the stone walls she kept crashing into with this one were infuriating. It seemed to her they’d been erected intentionally, to keep someone like her out in a situation like this.
Throbbing from her wrist and hip had her reaching for the pain pills. So what if it was too soon for more? Shit, Harry had put the cap back on, and there was no way to open them with only one working hand.
“Cruz!”
He came to the door, looking perturbed.
She held up the bottle. “Open this for me, will you? And without commentary.”
Now he looked even more annoyed. He took the bottle from her, shook out two pills and dropped them into the palm of her left hand.
“One more.”
He scowled as he added the third pill.
Sam took them with a sip of water while hoping they’d work quickly.
“Why don’t you go home?”
“Not yet. I’m taking a short day tomorrow.”
“No one cares if you take two short days in a row.”
“After taking a whole week off and missing most of the last two cases? I’m not leaving.”
“We’re not keeping score, Sam.”
“You’re not, but others are. You know they are.”
“No one who matters.”
“Perception is reality around here, and it’s bad enough I’m being driven around by the Secret Service like a princess. I don’t need to give them any more reason to talk shit about me.”
“But you’re injured after taking down a suspect on the job. Anyone would go home because of that.”
“I need to see through this day. I’ll go home as soon as we’re done.”
Avery Hill appeared in her doorway.
Sam waved him in, noting he looked tired but happy. “How’s the new baby?”
“Loud.”
Sam laughed. “How’s Shelby?”
“Exhausted but thrilled.” He did a double take when he noticed the bandage on her arm and cut on her face. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Avery glanced at Freddie, who shrugged.
“I, uh, wondered if I might have a word in private?”
“Sure.”
Freddie ducked out and closed the office door behind him.
“What’s up?”
Avery took a seat in front of her desk. “I’m ethically torn.”
“How so?”
“I want to show you a private all-hands message that came through secure channels to all Justice employees.”
“Like, everyone?”
“Yes.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Sixth one I’ve ever gotten.”
“Who was it from?”
“Cox.”
The telltale tingle attacked her backbone. “Can you share it?”
“Absolutely not, but I can show it to you if you swear to never tell anyone it came from me.”
“I swear.”
Avery handed over his phone.
Sam read the all-hands message from Reginald Cox to every employee at Justice, encouraging them to do everything in their power to assist in the investigation into U.S. Attorney Tom Forrester’s murder. “If you know something, say something,” Cox had written. “It behooves us all to assist law enforcement in quickly resolving the senseless murder of our colleague. If you have information about USA Forrester’s murder, please report it to a supervisor immediately.”
Sam read the message twice, becoming more perplexed the second time. “Is he insinuating an inside job?”
“That’s how I read it.”
“I don’t understand. Who does he think would know something?”
“No idea, but the implication was clear to me and my team that he thinks it came from within the department—or he wants people to think that.”
“Is it possible he wants someone like you to do exactly what you’re doing now by showing that to me and hoping I’ll pick up that direction?”
“I thought of that and can’t rule it out.”
“What is happening?”
“I wish I knew.”
“I feel like the AG is fucking with me.”
“I understand why you’d feel that way.”
“When I interviewed him, he never said a word about how he and Forrester went all the way back to college and had been tight ever since. Leslie Forrester said they were like brothers. He never said he was also close friends with Bryant or that the three of them regularly spent time together.”
“That’s weird.”
“I know, which leads me to wonder if Cox is involved.”
“You think the AG might be involved in the death of a USA he was friends with for twenty-five years?”
“I don’t know what to think. Why wouldn’t Cox tell me everything there is to tell about his friendship with Forrester? If he cares about his friend and getting justice for him, wouldn’t he vomit details to assist in the investigation? How would their long friendship count as something he couldn’t share with me, especially when that friend is now lying in the morgue?”
“It makes no sense that he’d keep that from you.”
“Am I going to have to interview him again? Please say no.”
“I wish I could.”
“I plan to try to get a minute with him at the state dinner. I figured he can’t very well publicly avoid the first lady when she wants to have a word with him.”
Avery smiled. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that.”
“I’m sorry you guys won’t be there, but I’m so glad Miss Maisie has safely arrived, and all is well.”
“Me, too. Shelby is such a badass. I know I never should’ve worried about her, but pregnancy risks are so much greater in the forties. It’s a relief to have it behind us. She’s already scheduled the big V for me.”
“Ack, TMI.”
He laughed. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m so happy for you guys.”
“I’m happy for us, too. She’s the best.”
“Yes, she sure is.”
“So, are you pretending not to be injured?”
“Perhaps.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.”
Apparently realizing she wasn’t going to talk about it, he said, “Two other things. I looked into all the threats that’ve been made against USA and the office in the last year and didn’t find anything that stood out as particularly worrisome. It was mostly the usual claims of prosecutorial overreach and unfairness. Also, I’ve put pressure on the lab to get that phone processed. I’ll let you know what I hear from them.”
“Thank you, Avery.”