26. Dani
Dani
San Diego Police Headquarters isn’t new to me. I’ve been here plenty of times chasing stories. What is new is being brought in and shoved into an interrogation room.
They insist I’m not under arrest. Just here for questioning.
Is this really about the Tate case? Because Alexa and I wouldn’t reveal our source? They claim it’s not, but a part of me wonders if that was just a lie to get me here.
My head is spinning as the heavy metal door creaks open. In walks a tall man I don’t recognize—another detective, I assume. Great.
He approaches the cold steel table and sets a thick stack of folders down, then takes a seat across from me.
“Hello, Danielle. I’m Agent Thomas Russo with the FBI.”
Wait—FBI? My eyebrows shoot straight to my hairline. What the fuck?
“I’m guessing you weren’t expecting the feds to show up,” he says, in a calm tone, almost too calm.
I swallow, trying to steady myself. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to be here at all. What’s this about? No one will tell me anything.”
“I need to talk to you about Tate,” he says.
I cross my arms. “As a federal agent, you know I’m protected under the Shield Law. I don’t have to reveal my source to you.”
Agent Russo shakes his head. “I’m not here about that.”
That’s exactly what the other detectives said.
“Then with all due respect, I don’t understand why I’m here,” I reply, leaning back slightly. “Everything I know about Tate is public record. I’m not some kind of expert. And the pending charges against him are at the state level… so what exactly is the FBI doing asking questions?”
He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He picks up a folder from the table and flips it open, scanning the pages without looking at me.
“Tell me about your relationship with your boyfriend, Sam Lincoln,” he says casually.
I freeze. What the fuck?
Agent Russo still doesn’t look up. “According to our files, you’ve been together a while. About nine years or so?”
“I… yes. That’s accurate. But we recently broke up,” I manage to get out.
“Hmmm,” he murmurs, still reading. “What led to that?”
“Wasn’t working out. Why the hell is that your business?” Anger flares. I can’t help it.
He finally gives me his attention, locking eyes with me. “See, I find it… interesting that as your now award-winning reports on Tate ramped up, you suddenly broke things off with your long-term boyfriend.”
I blink, the accusation catching me off guard. Confusion twists in my stomach.
He leans forward slightly. “I don’t believe in coincidences. I think this breakup was your way of keeping us off your boyfriend’s trail. But what you don’t realize is, we were already on to him. Have been for a while.”
Wait. What the hell is he talking about? On to Sam? My brain short-circuits.
“I have literally no idea what you’re talking about,” I stutter.
“Danielle… cut the bullshit.” His voice sharpens. “There is no way in hell you didn’t know Sam was helping Tate this whole time. He was Tate’s muscle. He was the one leaning on people when Tate couldn’t get what he wanted.”
My jaw drops.
Agent Russo leans forward, elbows on the table. “You expect me to believe your best friend—the guy you were with for years—was essentially breaking bones, collecting money… and you just… what? Thought he had a busy work schedule?”
I can’t breathe. I shoot up from my chair and start pacing the room, tears welling up fast. My fingers fidget with the hem of my jacket, switching between swiping at my cheeks.
How is this happening?
Sam was my person. Sure, things fell apart in the end, but he was good. Wasn’t he?
Agent Russo doesn’t let up. “You shared everything with him. Don’t play dumb now, Danielle. You’re smarter than that. So, either you’re lying to protect him… or he played you just like the rest of them.”
I freeze. His words cutting deep. My mind races, every memory with Sam swirling in my mind. No. This can’t be real.
I would’ve known.
Slowly, I return to the table. My legs feel numb. I drop into the chair, staring straight at Agent Russo.
He watches me closely, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. His posture shifts. Then, softly, almost like he doesn’t want to believe it himself, he says, “Holy shit. You didn’t know.”
I glare at him, the pain in my chest morphing into rage. “No. I didn’t fucking know.”
Agent Russo exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn. This guy is good.”
I take a deep breath, knowing the next thing I say might just gut me. “I need to know. Tell me everything.”
“This is an active investigation. I can’t—”
“Bullshit,” I cut him off. “You were just accusing me of covering up whatever crimes he committed. Tell me. Now.”
Agent Russo sighs and opens a folder towards me.
“We believe Tate and Sam met about eight years ago when Tate was visiting Pendleton for some publicity thing. Clearly, they hit it off and Tate arranged for Sam to move to the recruiting department so he wouldn’t be transferred to another base or have a chance of being deployed. ”
My eyes shoot up to him. “I always wondered how in all these years, Sam was never deployed,” I whisper. “I figured he was just the lucky one.”
“No luck involved. During the investigation into Tate, we flagged repeated calls to two numbers, one belonging to Sam, the other to his commanding officer, Jake Wilson. At first, it didn’t mean much. But when we lined up the call logs with Tate’s financials, we started noticing a pattern.
“Every time Tate made a large cash withdrawal, there was a corresponding call to Wilson. Around those same dates, Wilson’s unit was issued new deployment or transfer orders. That’s when we started following the money more closely.
“We pulled the roster for Wilson’s command, looking for any connection to the second number Tate kept calling. Sure enough, Sam’s name came up. But what didn’t add up was his service record. While the rest of the unit deployed, Sam always stayed behind or was reassigned to recruiting.
“Then we tracked the cash flow itself. The withdrawals didn’t just align with calls to Wilson, they also overlapped with contact with Sam. We found deposits and transfers that pointed to Sam receiving a cut of that money, just done in smaller amounts to avoid attention.
“That’s when the pattern became clearer. Whenever Tate’s usual pressure tactics against the City Council stopped working, the calls increased. More contact with Sam, more cash pulled from Tate’s accounts, more money moving off the books.
“At that point, it stopped looking like coincidences and started looking coordinated. I think you can see where this is going.”
This can’t be happening. I’m going to be sick. My mind’s spiraling and the thought of the person I loved being part of all of this makes my stomach drop. He might not have been perfect, but I really thought Sam was a good guy. I force the words out. “Did he get violent with anyone?”
“We aren’t sure yet. It’s possible. Anyone who’s suspected of selling their votes by force is being tight-lipped. As of now, all we know is Sam was the intimidation man who showed up when Tate’s emails like the one you had in your story didn’t work.”
“But wait—if Tate kept Sam from deploying all this time, what changed? He’s been overseas for months.”
Agent Russo exhales, like he’s been expecting that question.
“Everything Tate built was starting to unravel. He manipulated the system, turned Sam into a gun for hire, and that’s what pushed this from a state case to a federal one.
” He pauses, letting that sink in. “Once the DA started circling, Tate had to know it was only a matter of time before someone traced it back to the military.”
My stomach twists. “So, he sent him away?”
“More than that. He probably thought removing Sam from the equation would make it harder for us to connect the dots. Fewer loose ends.” Agent Russo starts to gather his folders. “Clearly… he miscalculated.”
“I want to help.”
He stares blankly at me. “Excuse me?”
My pulse is still racing, but this time it isn’t fear driving it.
It’s anger, mixed with clarity. “I became a journalist to expose the truth. This Tate thing is clearly bigger than I thought, and people deserve to know what’s really going on.
” I swallow, forcing the next part out. “And selfishly? After realizing Sam manipulated me for most of our relationship… I want to see him in cuffs at the end of this.”
Saying it out loud makes it real. The man I loved and trusted wasn’t who I thought he was.
“And how do you plan to help us?”
“I’ll give you full access to Sam and my apartment.
I haven’t gotten rid of any of his stuff.
It’s all still there.” The thought makes my stomach twist, but I push through it.
“Search whatever you need to build an airtight case. You’ll have my full cooperation.
Any questions—you ask, I answer.” I pause.
This is the part that matters. “But I want something in return.”
He raises a single eyebrow.
“When charges are officially brought against Tate and Sam, you give Alexa Li the exclusive details a few days before anyone else.”
“Trying to get another award, huh?”
I shake my head. “No. This has nothing to do with that. I won’t be touching this story. It’s hers.” My chest tightens as I say it, knowing what that means. “I can’t report on it because of my personal ties. It would destroy my credibility.”
And I know how this goes. When charges are filed and this inevitably ends up at trial, I’ll be dragged into that courtroom because of Sam. Because of the years I spent with him. Because of this conversation right now.
Agent Russo thinks for a second, then holds out his hand. “Deal.”
We shake and he gestures towards the door. As we walk down the long hallway, he talks through his plan to get a forensic team together to meet at my apartment.
When we reach the lobby, I spot Gavin sitting in one of the plastic chairs. His elbows rest on his bouncing knees, hands folded, head down. He looks… nervous.