Chapter Eleven #2
“We’re thankful to have people we love taking care of it for us.”
“We’ll take very good care of it.”
After he left, Sam asked Cameron to stay on top of the John Doe case in Gonzo’s absence.
“Sure thing. What do we do about the diplomatic angle?”
“I’ll get with the captain on that and let you know.” She left the pit and went to Malone’s office, where he and the chief were huddled together in deep discussion. “I can come back…”
“No, come in,” Malone said. “Shut the door.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“We’re talking about McDermott and what the hell her agenda is,” the chief said.
“That’s a very good question.”
“We loved it when you asked her if we were on the same team,” Malone said. “I was thinking the same exact thing when you said it out loud.”
“I think we’re in for a rough ride with her, friends,” Farnsworth said. “Every I will need to be dotted and T crossed.”
“But we’re already doing that,” Sam said. “We turn over airtight cases for prosecution and rarely fail to secure justice for our victims. What should we be doing differently?”
“That’s the question of the day,” Malone said. “There’s nothing more we could be doing that we aren’t doing.”
“I hate that she’s making us feel like we were out of line to arrest the Binghams based on Amara’s testimony,” Sam said. “That’s such bullshit. We had an eyewitness to murder share a credible story.”
“Here’s the thing, though,” Farnsworth said thoughtfully. “She’s not wrong that by trusting Amara is telling us the truth, we could be charging the wrong people with murder.”
“We’re not,” Sam said. “Neither of them asked why they were being arrested. They knew why.”
“That’s a damning fact,” Malone said.
“After doing this for so long,” Sam said, “you learn to trust your gut about people. Mine is rarely wrong. I didn’t get so much as a tingle of doubt as I listened to Amara’s story. I believe her. If I’m later proven wrong, I’ll say so, but I don’t think that’s going to happen here.”
“What’s your next move?” Farnsworth asked.
“I’m planning to speak with some of King’s friends from that time to get a read on what he was dealing with at home.
Amara gave me a list to work from. Detective Cruz and I are splitting the list with O’Brien and Charles.
But before I leave to do that, I wanted to tell you we picked up a John Doe near Embassy Row and have video of him being pushed out of a speeding SUV with a possible diplomatic plate. ”
“Ugh, I hate diplomatic shit,” Malone said.
The chief nodded. “I was just going to say that.”
“Are we obligated to turn this over to the Feds?” Sam asked.
“Not necessarily,” Malone said. “Let’s figure out who the dead man is and go from there.”
“Byron is working on an ID as we speak. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Sam.”
She turned back to face the chief. “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but watch your back with McDermott. I don’t have a good feeling about her.”
“Neither do I, and I will. Thank you for your support in that meeting.”
“Always.”
Sam left them with a smile and returned to her office to find Captain Ruiz seated in her visitor chair. “Oh, hey, I’m on my way out.”
“We need to talk.”
“I know, but I can’t right now. I’m playing a game of beat the clock to file charges against a couple who murdered their son. Can I find you tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
When Ruiz got up and left the office, Sam exhaled a sigh of relief to have put off that confrontation. For now, anyway.
She went into the pit to hand a list of names to Neveah Charles. “I need you and Matt to track down these friends of King Robinson’s and see if you can find out about anything he might have told them about what was going on at home shortly before his death.”
“We’ll get right on it and report in with anything we learn.”
“Thank you. Cruz, let’s go.”
“Where to?” he asked as he followed her to the morgue exit.
She handed him the other list of names. “We need to find these guys. They’d be nineteen or twenty now and away at college, but we can at least try to talk to a parent or guardian.”
“Can I ask what might turn out to be a stupid question?”
“No such thing.”
“Why aren’t we talking to the parents?”
Sam stopped short outside the morgue and turned to face him. “Do we want to show our cards before we have more evidence to back up Amara’s story?”
“But what if talking to them confirmed the story?”
“I mean… It’s not a bad point.”
“So…”
“Let’s go run it by Malone.”
They backtracked toward the pit and encountered Charles and O’Brien heading out.
“What’s up?” Charles asked.
“Detective Cruz had an idea that we’re going to run by Malone. Go ahead and interview the friends and let us know what you learn.”
“Will do.”
When they arrived at Malone’s office, he waved them in. “What’s up?”
“Detective Cruz asked me why we haven’t spoken to the Binghams, and I thought it was a good question.”
Malone thought about that for a second. “What if we told the mother that the stepfather was talking to us? I would think she’d be the one more likely to crack, as it was her child who was killed.”
“I like that.” Sam turned to Freddie. “Let’s get her into a room, Detective.”
“Off I go.”
“He seems quite pleased with himself,” Malone said, smiling.
“It was a good question, and I guess I hadn’t thought to speak to them because I was so focused on the twenty-four-hour deadline.”
“The answer could be sitting right in our jail.”
“That’d save us some time.”
“Your grasshopper is coming along very nicely.”
“I’ve done a fine job with him.”
Malone rolled his eyes. “You’ve tried everything you can think of to ruin him. Unsuccessfully, I might add.”
“He’s coming along on the path to ruination, too.”
“When you finish congratulating yourself, get Hope back here to watch the interview with the mother.”
“Right.” Sam smiled at his sauciness as she made the call to the AUSA, relieved that he was behaving like himself despite the news he’d shared earlier. “Hey, so we’re going to talk to the mother and make her think the stepfather is giving up the details.”
“Oh, I like that. I’ll be right over.”
“See you soon.” She slapped her phone closed. “She’s on her way.”
While she waited to get everything in place, she checked the BlackBerry to find there was no word from Nick. So she texted him. Any updates? Text or call if you need me. Hoping to be home for dinner but may have to come back in later. Love you.
She switched phones to read a message from Shelby. Hi there, hope you’re having a good day. The low-key baptism for Ms. Maisie is on for Sunday afternoon if her beloved godparents are still available that day.
Godparents reporting for duty. Godfather will return from travel Sunday morning. What can I do to help?
Absolutely nothing. I’ve got it covered.
Why did I know you were going to say that, Tink?
Because it’s what I do! Can’t wait for some time together. It’s been too long.
Come for dinner tonight. We miss you guys, and Nick needs the distraction.
We’ll be there. And PS, we still can’t believe our baby girl’s godparents are our very dear friends, the POTUS and FLOTUS.
She can call us Sam and Nick. Love you.
Love you, too.
Sam had stashed the phone in her pocket by the time Freddie returned to tell her Thelma was in interview two. “Did she say anything about a lawyer?”
“Nope.”
“Excellent. We’re just waiting for Hope.”
“I’m here,” Hope said as she came toward them. “I was in the area.”
“Let’s do this,” Sam said.