Chapter 59
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Taking a sip from my black coffee with a splash of cream, I let the familiar taste ground me in the moment.
Christine handed me a fresh cup as we made our way to the interrogation rooms. She always times the coffee handoffs perfectly for our team, and I’ll never know how she does it—I just hope she never quits.
She keeps our team functioning at the highest level.
And today, we need to be at the absolute top of our game.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I check the screen before nodding toward the hallway. “I need to take this quick. I’ll be just a moment.”
“Take your time, sir,” Tara responds as she, Kelly, and Mason make their way toward the interrogation room.
“Hey, Liam, I only have a moment. What’s going on?
” I step out of the main corridor into a side hallway with less foot traffic.
I would have had more time to talk if he caught me driving into the office.
The daily sixty-minute drive from my front porch to my parking spot is a route I could navigate with my eyes closed at this point, but one I’ll happily drive because at the end of the day, I get to make that same drive home and have my family waiting for me.
“Walker. I wanted you to know I’m staying at Savannah’s guest house if you need me to come help with anything today, or even over the next few days, I am available.”
Ah. I respect my brother-in-law, but I also am a rule follower at heart.
And I really don’t want Graham to have a centimeter of wiggle room to claim procedural misconduct when it comes to his defense and how he was questioned by my team.
“I appreciate that, man, but I think we’ve got it.
I’m just about to go into the interview, actually. ”
He pauses before he quietly asks, “Are you sure?”
I exhale loudly, recognizing what’s really going on. “Listen. You didn’t drop the ball here, man. None of us had any idea that Ryan was in danger, or how close The Carnation Killer was to our family.”
“But he’s … Fuck. Walker, Ryan’s my little brother.” Liam’s voice is twisted with emotions that I’m sure weigh heavy on him. He’s a complicated man, but at his core, he’s driven by the need to protect his people, even though he was on an entirely different continent when Ryan was taken.
“I know he is—he’s my brother, too. I promise you I am going to do every step strictly by the book and everything possible to ensure that when we hand over the evidence to the prosecutors, it is an airtight case, resulting in this asshole being put away for the rest of his entire fucking miserable life.
I know you don’t want to stand down, but I need you to trust that I have this. ”
“I know you do. I’m not questioning your skills and ability. I’ve never doubted that.”
I don’t fight the smirk at that comment. “Never?”
He huffs a small laugh. “Okay, I haven’t doubted you in the last twelve months.”
I do the math quickly. “Viv and I were already engaged a year ago.”
Liam hums in agreement. “I know.”
“I will keep you as updated as I can, but that’s the best I can do right now. My team is really fucking good at their jobs, Liam. Let us do them.”
“Yeah, I know. You have a great team—but if you need anything, I have access to the best of the best out there.” He pauses but I give him a second before filling the silence. “I’m not sure what to do right now; I’m not very good at waiting in situations like this.”
“Go over to my house, visit with your sister, and play with your niece and nephews.”
“Yeah, your kids are good distractions. And you did leave my sister all alone with them.”
I chuff at that. “Do you honestly think my wife goes a single day alone with our kids?”
“Knowing our family and her friends? Probably not.”
“Exactly. I’ll give you a call when I’m headed back home, alright?” I can’t promise I’ll tell him everything, but I can keep him in the loop a little at least.
He grunts as he disconnects. I’m sure he meant to say goodbye. He wasn’t actually hanging up on me.
Although knowing the Callahan brothers, he may have actually just hung up on me to keep me on my toes. I fight a smirk as I turn back to the main corridor. Rolling out my shoulders, the smirk is gone in an instant as I put my game face on.
It’s time to nail this asshole to the wall.
I step back into the main hallway, and Mason is waiting for me outside of one of the rooms, holding the door to the observation room open. Stepping inside, my team is already set up as we wait for Graham and his attorney to be placed in the interrogation room.
“Mason, can you run his personal demographics one more time?” I ask as I take another sip of my coffee.
Mason is connected to the monitor on the wall, and he pulls up a few of the documents we reviewed earlier this morning.
One of them is a photo of Dr. Graham Tremblay from his staff ID at Massachusetts General Hospital where he was an attending psychiatrist in Boston.
We’ve reviewed all his professional accolades in our earlier team meeting, and it was disturbing how close to Harlow’s orbit this man has been for years.
No one in the room needed to point that out.
I saw the faces of my team members, and we all thought the same thing.
“Graham Tremblay was born in Montréal, Québec, Canada, and raised by a single mother. There is no father listed on his birth certificate.” Mason nods at the screen.
“Is there any record of a father, or child support, or whatever the Canadian equivalent of that is?” Tara asks.
“No record that I could find. But that doesn’t mean I won’t come across something as I keep digging.” Mason tends to internalize things, but this doesn’t all fall on him anymore than it does the rest of our team.
None of us wanted—or expected—Harlow to be personally involved in this case.
“Of course, you will, man. You’re great at your job. It’s been like twelve hours, and you have a full dossier on the suspect,” Kelly adds with a chin lift to the screen.
“Right, back to that.” Mason shifts the focus back to the case and away from any spotlight on his abilities.
“Dr. Stephanie Marie Tremblay had her PhD in genetics and was a well-respected expert in gene sequencing. Graham Tremblay and his mother moved from Quebec to Boston when Graham was nine years old. She accepted a prestigious genomics research position with MIT.” Mason clicks through a few articles that feature a younger Stephanie Tremblay accepting awards and being recognized in her industry.
Tara shakes her head. “So, he grew up with a brilliant, strong mother, and what? Somehow, Harlow reminded him of mommy dearest and became the center of his obsession? I don’t get it.”
“Maybe it wasn’t just growing up with a brilliant mother. Maybe she wasn’t an easy person to have as a mother,” Kelly suggests.
“It wouldn’t be the first time that a brilliant and successful person in a professional field is actually a terrible person to live and grow up with,” I add. A door opening into the interrogation room reveals that our guest of honor has arrived.
Peering into the room through the two-way mirror, Graham shuffles in with his hands shackled in front of him.
The guard secures him to the table as Graham’s eyes dart around the room.
His dark brown hair is disheveled and the designer clothing from yesterday has been replaced with standard-issue plain gray sweatshirt and sweatpants.
I think he’s going to look wonderful in orange.
“Let’s do this,” I say as I set my coffee down on the table before I open the door to the observation room with Tara following my lead into the interrogation room.
“Gentlemen, I’m FBI Special Agent Henry Walker Bennett and this is my colleague, FBI Special Agent Tara White,” I announce as we sit on the opposite side of the table.
“I’m Daniel Goldstein with Goldstein, Levy, and Goldstein, representing Dr. Tremblay.
Agents, please know I have advised my client not to say anything that may be perceived as self-incriminating and reminded him of his fifth amendment rights.
” Graham’s attorney is an eager young man who could have walked off the magazine for Harvard Law with his expensive three-piece suit, crisp purple tie, and vintage Rolex watch.
Graham rolls his eyes. “I told you I only needed you for the bond hearing. This is a waste of time.”
“It’s your right to have an attorney present during any conversation with law enforcement, Dr. Tremblay.” Tara leans right into the docile good cop role we want Graham to buy.
“I understand my rights, Agent White, I simply do not need assistance. There is nothing that will transpire today that will change anything. And really, shouldn’t Dr. Lane be in here for this?
” He’s trying to play it cool, but the guy would lose so much money at a poker game. He played his hand too soon.
His eagerness all but confirmed what cards I should play.
“You know, I talked to Dr. Lane this morning, and she wanted me to talk to you first. Beyond that, it depends on how productive our conversation is and that will determine if coming in would be worth her time.” I shrug and try to keep any emotions off my face.
I can’t allow him to see how I really feel about him, or what he did to my brother-in-law.
The bait of Harlow coming is exactly the incentive Graham needed to hear. “Well, then, that changes things.” Graham sits up straighter and leans slightly toward Tara and me. “What would you like to know, so that we can have her join us?”
I lean back and open the folder with photos and reports that I’m not sharing quite yet. Closing the folder without showing him anything, despite him trying to look over the edge of the folder, I let Tara initiate the line of questioning.
“Dr. Tremblay, can you please tell us a little bit about how you met Dr. Lane and what your relationship was like?” Tara’s tone is pleasant, conversational, and entirely misleading of what we are actually doing in this room. It’s perfect.