Chapter Twelve
After Avery left, Freddie came to the door. “Bryant’s lawyer says they’re ready to talk. They’re in interview two.”
“Excellent.” Sam painfully transferred herself to the rolling office chair and headed for the door.
Freddie jumped to get out of her way. “Easy, Speedy Gonzales.”
“That name is trademarked,” Gonzo said, grinning as they laughed.
Sam scooted down the hallway to the interview room.
Freddie opened the door and let her go in ahead of him.
Both men gave her an odd look when she rolled the chair into the room.
“We heard you’re ready to talk.”
“That’s correct,” Conway said. “My client is willing to answer your questions in the hope that you might let the prosecutor know he was cooperative.”
“I’ll be sure to call her the second we’re done here.” Sam hoped they could hear the sarcasm in her tone. That son of a bitch Bryant was the reason she was injured—again. She wasn’t doing a goddamned thing to help him. “Detective Cruz, please record this conversation.”
Freddie turned on the recording and listed the people in the room as well as the time and date of the interview.
“Why’d you run from us?” Sam asked.
Judging by the way he glanced at the lawyer, Bryant hadn’t expected that to be her first question.
“I was scared.”
“Of what? You’ve already been charged with multiple capital felonies.”
“I don’t know. I freaked out. That’s allowed, right?”
“Sure, why not? Where would Rosemary have taken your son?”
He glanced at the lawyer and then at her. “What?”
“She promised us he’d turn himself in today, and they’ve gone missing. Where would they be?”
“I, uh, I don’t know. I’m not in touch with her now that the kids are adults.” He ran a trembling hand over his mostly bald head and leaned in to whisper to the lawyer.
Sam eyed the flame of his cheeks and nose, wondering if he was an alcoholic or if he had rosacea. Her ex-husband had suffered from the latter, and it’d made him miserable. Or more miserable, rather.
“Rosemary’s family has a cabin up north in Wisconsin. I’m not sure what town it’s in.”
“You’ve never been there?”
“Once, years ago. I don’t remember where it was.”
“Would your daughter know?”
“Yes, I suppose she would.”
“How can we get in touch with her?”
“I don’t have her number anymore. She stopped taking my calls years ago.”
“Didn’t that bother you?”
“Of course it did, but Rosemary was with them all the time while I was here. She poisoned them against me. I couldn’t fight that, so I stopped trying.”
“I would never stop trying to make things right with my kids.”
His face twisted into a mean sneer. “Wouldn’t we all like to be more like you?”
“I would,” Freddie said, earning him a smile from Sam. “We’d be lucky to be more like her.”
“Who would have your daughter’s number?”
“My sister, Donna.” He recited her phone number. “She keeps in touch with the kids.”
Sam wrote down the number and handed the paper to Freddie, who left to pass the info on to Jesse Best. “What’s your relationship with Reginald Cox?”
“The AG?”
No, the mayor of Phoenix.“Yes.”
“I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve been in Washington. He was a prominent lawyer before becoming the AG. I met him at a few dinner parties back in the day.”
“And you became friends with him?”
He shifted in his seat the way people did when something made them uncomfortable. “Acquaintances.”
“Did he play cards at your house every week?”
The question shocked him. “What? No.”
“We have witnesses who say he did.”
“I mean, like, I knew him, but we weren’t buddies or anything.”
“Weren’t you?”
“No!”
“Did it make you mad when he asked his pal—and yours—Forrester to investigate your campaign finance irregularities?”
Judging by the way Bryant’s already red face turned an alarming shade of purple, he’d cared very much about that. “That was a wild-goose chase. There was no there there.”
“So you say, but according to Forrester’s team, he’d found significant concerns that he’d reported directly to Cox.” As far as she knew, that wasn’t true, but Bryant didn’t need to know that.
Freddie returned to the room and took his seat next to her.
“What did he find?” Bryant asked, sputtering. “That’s bullshit. I run a clean operation.”
Sam didn’t believe that for a second, but he probably knew how to make it look clean even if it wasn’t. “I’m not sure of the details. All I know is that Forrester had reported to Cox that he was finding irregularities.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Bryant sat back in his chair, fuming. “What’s the point of this anyway?”
“I want to know about your friendship with Forrester and Cox.”
“Friendship? I wasn’t friends with Forrester. Not after he started trying to ruin my life!”
“Where’d you go after you were released on bail?”
“Home. I went straight home.”
“We have people working on tracking the pings on your cell phone. Are we going to find anyone associated with you anywhere near Constitution Avenue at the time of Forrester’s shooting?”
“No, you won’t. I wouldn’t have had any idea where to find him.”
“Even after your thugs took his family hostage?”
The lawyer glanced at him nervously. “What is she talking about, Congressman?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you about how he and his goons took Forrester’s family hostage and held them for days at a hotel while telling them that Tom was trying to keep them safe? Did he leave out that part of the story?”
The lawyer recoiled, probably in fear of losing his brand-new law license by associating with this guy. “Is that true?”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
Sam laughed at the absurdity. “So the men who worked for you got that idea all on their own?”
“You’d have to ask them.”
“We have. They say you told them to detain Forrester’s wife and daughters.”
“That’s a lie.”
“We don’t think it is.”
“What are they getting in return for telling you that?”
“What I want to know is what reason in the universe would they have for detaining Forrester’s family other than following orders that came right from you? How would they even know Forrester if they didn’t work for you?”
Bryant glared at her, but he seemed to have no answer.
“I’d, um, like a moment to confer with my client, please.”
Freddie turned off the recording and rolled Sam out of the room.
“Funny how Bryant never mentioned to his new attorney that he kidnapped Forrester’s family and held them hostage days before their husband and father was murdered.”
Freddie chuckled. “Ironic.”
Since it was inching closer to six, she looked up at him. “Go on home if you want. I can finish this.”
He leaned against the cinderblock wall. “I’ll stick around until we’re done with Bryant.”
“How’s Elin?”
“She’s good. Mostly back to her old self.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Miscarriage is a tough thing.”
“Sure is. I had no idea how tough until it happened to us.”
“You’re going to make me an aunt many times over. I feel it in my bones.”
“I’ve learned to trust your bones.”
Sam’s cell rang with a call from an unavailable number. “Lieutenant Holland.”
“This is Attorney General Cox’s office calling.”
“What can I do for you?” She mouthed the word Cox to Freddie.
“General Cox would like to see you.”
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
“It’ll have to be tomorrow.”
“He’d like it to be tonight.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not possible.”
Her reply was met with silence.
She would bet the farm that the AG wasn’t used to people saying “not now” to him. “What time and where tomorrow?” Sam asked.
“General Cox would like to see you now.”
“I’m not available now.”
“I will get back to you.”
The call ended abruptly.
“What was that about?”
“The Attorney General wants to see me now, and his lackey seemed astounded to hear I’m not currently available.”
Freddie snorted. “No one says no to him.”
“Someone just did.”
“We could see him tonight. I’m just saying…”
“As soon as we’re done with Bryant, I’m going home to get my hip X-rayed to make sure I haven’t refractured it.”
His eyes popped. “Do you think you did?”
“I can’t put any weight on it, so…”
“Sam…”
“Think positively. Hopefully, it’s just a setback.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“So I’ve heard. Knock on the door and see what’s going on in there. I want out of here.”
While Freddie went to check on Bryant and his attorney, Sam texted Harry. Should be home within the hour.
I’ll be ready.
Thanks, Doc. Does POTUS know about this?
Not from me.
Sam would be shocked if he hadn’t heard about it from someone, but the fact he hadn’t texted had her hopeful that he maybe didn’t know. He had enough to contend with. He didn’t need to be worried about her, too.
“They’re ready for us,” Freddie said.
He rolled her back into the room.
“Gentlemen, my patience tends to run out right around this point every day. Let’s move this along, shall we?”
“My client would like to know what sort of concessions he might receive if he provided information that could be useful to your investigation.”
“That depends on the information.”
“He’s unwilling to share the info until he knows what the concessions will be.”
“We’re not in a position to offer concessions. Those would have to come from the U.S. Attorney’s Office, and since we’re talking about the murder of their beloved boss, they’re not feeling overly generous.”
“Then I have nothing further to say to you,” Bryant said.
“Detective Cruz, will you please take Mr. Bryant back to lockup?”
“When is my bail hearing?”
“Not sure yet, but you probably ought to get comfortable downstairs.”
“I’m still a United States congressman,” he reminded her.
“So what?”
“That should count toward something.”
“I believe that probably counted toward you getting out on bail in the first place after being linked to a murder, which means that chip has been played—and you blew it. Detective Cruz, after you deliver Mr. Bryant to lockup, please brief Carlucci and Dominguez on what we need from them tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With that, she wheeled herself out of the room and back to her office to get her coat so she could get the hell out of there.
“You can’t just walk away from me when I’m still talking to you,” Bryant called after her.
“Oh, yes, I can.”
She texted Vernon to tell him she was on the way out.
A minute later, he appeared at her office door. “Thought you might need a push.”
“You get me, Vernon.”
He helped her position her coat around her shoulders. “Sadly, I do.”
Sam laughed. “Let’s roll.” She was ready to get home and figure out what the hell was going on with her hip.
On the way,she took another call from an unavailable number. “Holland.”
“General Cox would like to see you at nine thirty tomorrow. Is that possible?”
“Where?”
“At his office.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
This call ended the same way the other one had—abruptly.
She texted Freddie to tell him they had a meeting with the AG at nine thirty tomorrow.
Got it, he replied.
Tomorrow was going to be a long-ass day. Thinking about that made her even more tired than she already was.
When they arrived at the White House, Harry met her with a wheelchair.
Vernon put an arm around her and half carried her inside.
“Thank you, Vernon.” She used her chin to point to the chair. “Is that necessary?”
“Can you walk the thousand or so steps to the clinic?”
She scowled at Harry and carefully lowered herself to the chair while pulling her coat hood up over her face so there’d be no photos. “Be quick about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She wanted to tell him not to call her that, but she bit her tongue as he propelled her deeper into the White House, down a ramp and around several corners before arriving at the clinic. No way could she have walked that far. “What’re we hearing about Lindsey?”
“Nothing yet. They’re waiting on test results.”
“Are you worried about her?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Let me know what you hear.”
“I will.”
“We’re ready for you, Mrs. Cappuano,” a nurse said, smiling.
“Thank you. Please keep this private.”
“Of course. We won’t say a word.”
“Everyone here is under an NDA,” Harry said as he delivered her to an exam room and handed her a gown.
“Do I really need a gown?”
“Yes. Do you need help changing?”
“I can do it.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Working with a bum hip and arm, she struggled her way out of her clothes and into the gown that tied in the back. Since she couldn’t tie it with one hand, she held it together as she sat carefully in the chair. God, it hurt to sit, to stand, to breathe. If her hip was broken again, she didn’t know what she would do.
She’d forgotten how painful it’d been to get X-rays the first time she injured her hip. The tech was super gentle, but even still, she was in tears by the time she was delivered back to the exam room, where Harry waited to talk to her.
“Nothing’s broken,” he said.
“You already know that?”
“Yep.”
“So why can’t I walk on it?”
“You should be able to in a day or two.”
“I have the state dinner tomorrow. I have to be able to walk!”
“I can give you a cortisone shot to get you through the event.”
“What does that entail?” she asked warily.
“I stick a needle in your hip and fill it with a steroid that will take the pain away while it heals from this latest trauma.”
“I assume the needle to the hip doesn’t feel good.”
“I’d numb you up beforehand.”
“What about my arm?”
“Your wrist is sprained. I can wrap it better, so it’s supported while it heals.”
Sam decided she could live with an Ace bandage in the state dinner pictures, but she wouldn’t be able to manage crutches. “I’ll do the shot.” The only thing she hated more than flying was needles, but she’d do whatever was necessary to function tomorrow. Nick was counting on her, and she didn’t want to let him down.
“I’ll get it ready.”