by Marie Force
“And you might love Gigi?”
“I think it’s more than possible that I love Gigi.”
“Do you want my advice?”
“God, yes. I have no idea what to do, and I’ve been tied up in knots over this for months, all the while knowing she was with a guy who so totally didn’t deserve her.”
“You didn’t know me before I was married to Nick, but you were here when my ex-husband, Peter, was murdered, so you know I had an ex. I met Nick six years before we ended up together. I was living with Peter when I first met Nick. Peter was my platonic roommate, or so I thought. Turns out, though, he decided not to give me messages from Nick because he was interested in me himself. The whole time I was with Peter, I was thinking about that amazing guy I met that one night and wondering why I never heard from him. My greatest regret is that I didn’t go to his house and ask him why he never called me. If I’d done that, I could’ve skipped the entire miserable four years I spent married to the wrong guy. Do you get why I’m telling you this?”
“I think I do.”
“I married Peter knowing I was in love with someone else. I blame myself even more than him for the disaster our marriage was. There’s absolutely nothing like being with the right one. You already know what you need to do as far as Jaycee is concerned. You don’t need me to tell you that.”
“No, I don’t,” he said with a sigh.
“If you were going to love her, Cam, you would by now.”
He nodded. “You’re right, and I really appreciate your advice. Do I need to worry about a conflict if something happens with Gigi?”
“We’ll keep you on separate shifts. Should be fine.”
“When I heard about Nick becoming president, you know what my first thought was?”
“What’s that?”
“How sad I was at the possibility of you not being my boss anymore.”
“Well, you’re not getting rid of me yet.”
“Very glad about that, LT. We all are.”
“Let me know if I can help any more with the situation.”
“I will. You’ve been a big help. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“Follow your heart, Cameron. It won’t steer you wrong. I’ll be back.” Sam walked out of the pit feeling like she’d genuinely helped someone who wasn’t just a colleague but a friend. Green was one of the best detectives she’d ever worked with. He was always professional and gave a thousand percent to the job. She hoped he could resolve the issues that were weighing on him so he could find some peace of mind. Unfortunately, she knew all too well what it was like for personal concerns to get in the way of work.
Outside the morgue door, she signaled to Vernon, who was leaning against the SUV, that she was leaving. “Heading to Congress Heights in Southeast.”
“By yourself?” Vernon asked, looking around her for Freddie.
“I’m seeing the mother of a murder victim from fifteen years ago. Nothing dangerous.”
Vernon accepted her reply, but she could tell he wasn’t happy about it as he and Jimmy got into the SUV to follow her.
Could she have gone with them and saved everyone some gas? Maybe, but she wanted to continue to drive herself on the job, and if she gave in now, she might eventually lose that ability. She recalled something her dad once told her when she was first on the job. How you start is where you finish, or something like that. In other words, don’t do something today that you don’t want to have to do in a year or two. At least that was how she chose to interpret Skip Holland’s words of wisdom in this case.
Missing him had become a visceral part of her everyday life. So many times in the course of a shift, she wanted to call him to ask his opinion on something. Such as how to play what Morse had told her about Stahl and the Worthington case. The last freaking thing the chief or the department needed was more bad press, but there was no way she could sit on this info. Another of Skip’s pearls of wisdom was to never withhold something her superior officers should know.
Malone would take care of briefing the chief on what Morse had told them, and she’d fill in any blanks when she had more info.
Her phone rang, and she took the call from Freddie on the Bluetooth. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You won’t believe it, but I think the Mustang finally died.”
“Praise the Lord. It’s finally out of my misery.”
“That’s not nice. She was my baby.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“No, you’re not. Anyway, I’m waiting for the tow, and then I’ll be back to work. Sorry for the snafu.”
“No worries.”
“What am I missing?” he asked.
“Besides a free lunch?”
“No way.”
“Yep.” His appetite was a thing of legends. “I’ll eat your share.”
“Where’s this lunch taking place?”
“I’m going to see Lenore Worthington, and she offered to feed me.”
“That’s so not fair. No one ever offers to feed us when I’m with you, and if they did, you wouldn’t let me anyway.”
“I’m enjoying this far more than I should be.”
“Should I meet you at Lenore’s?”
“Not this time. I think I should do this myself, since she and I have formed a bond of sorts, going back to the first day when Calvin was shot, and I took the call. She may speak more freely to just me.”
“All right. I’ll see you back at the house.”
“See you then. And, Freddie? I really am sorry about the Mustang.”
“No, you’re not, but thank you just the same.”
Laughing, Sam ended the call and pressed the accelerator, eager to get to Southeast and back to talk to Lopez before the day got away from her. Then she remembered the meeting at two with the Secret Service director and was instantly pissed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sam was almost to Lenore’s when her phone rang with a call from Lilia.
“Hey, I’m on the fly. I’ve got five minutes.”
“I took the liberty of contacting the designer you worked with for President Cappuano’s fundraiser when he was a senator.”
“Ah, yes, the champagne silk gown that Shelby said was pink when it absolutely wasn’t.”
“That’s the one. I asked him about clothes for the visitation at the Capitol tomorrow and the funeral Thursday.”
“What does it say about me that I hadn’t given what to wear to either of those things a single thought?”
“It tells me you’re busy, and it’s my job to worry about those things.”
“It’s your job to dress me?”
“It’s my job to make sure you shine, no matter what that entails.”
“Did I ever tell you I was fully prepared to dislike you when we first met?”
She snorted with a very un-Lilia-like laugh. “I’m not at all surprised to hear that.”
“I called you Lilly Von Noodle because I couldn’t remember your real name.”
“That is hilarious. You should see what people do with my name. It was in the paper once when I made the Dean’s List in college as Lillian Van Norseman. That’s how I got the nickname Norseman in college.”
“I love that. I’m glad it’s not just me.”
“It’s not just you.”
“The reason I’m telling you this is because you proved me wrong at every turn, and I absolutely adore you and appreciate everything you do to make me shine.”
“I adore you right back, and it’s my pleasure to make you shine. I’ll have the designer send some things to the house for you to choose from.”
“I want to let out a very un-cop-like girly squeal right now.”
“Go ahead. I’ll keep it between us.”
“I’m doing it in my head. Thanks again, Lilia. You’re the bomb dot com.”
“Don’t say the word ‘bomb.’ It’ll trigger a federal response.”
Shocked, Sam said, “Will it?”
“No, j
ust kidding.”
Sam laughed. “You got me—and that’s not easy to do. Talk to you later.”
“See you.”
She’d really gone soft with all the new friends she’d made recently. That made her think of Roni, whom she still needed to check in with. Outside Lenore’s tidy freestanding home, Sam signaled to Vernon that she was going inside. After a glance toward the driveway where Calvin’s life had ended, Sam went up the stairs and knocked on the door, wondering how Lenore could stand to live in the place where her son had died.
Lenore answered with a welcoming smile for Sam. As she had been from the first time they met, Sam felt like a wannabe next to Lenore’s effortless beauty. “Come in. Welcome.”
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Always happy to see you, Lieutenant. Come back to the kitchen. You remember my daughter, Ayana, right?”
“Of course. Nice to see you again.”
“You too. Congrats on the big promotion.”
“I didn’t actually get promoted. My husband did. I just got another full-time job.”
Both women laughed.
“I think it’s awesome you’re planning to keep your job,” Lenore said.
“I’m glad you think so. A few days in, and I’m already questioning my sanity in trying to do three jobs, if you count motherhood.”
“That definitely counts,” Lenore said. “These are my grandchildren, Calvin the second and Layla. Kids, say hi to my friend Lieutenant Holland. And can you believe she’s our new first lady too?”
“Do you live at the White House?” Layla asked. She was about six, and her brother maybe eight.
“Not yet, but we’re moving there on Friday. And you guys should call me Sam.”
“Ms. Sam,” Lenore said.
The children were at the table eating grilled cheese sandwiches and carrot sticks.
“Have a seat,” Lenore said. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Water would be great.”
Lenore returned with the drink and a tray containing a bowl of tomato soup and a stack of grilled cheese sandwiches. “We’re all about the comfort food around here this time of year.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you for feeding me. My partner is jealous because no one ever feeds us when he’s with me.”
“He’s welcome to join us,” Lenore said. “Freddie, right? He’s adorable. Is he single? My Ayana is back on the market.”
“Mother! Stop.”
Sam laughed. “No, he’s very happily married and dealing with a broken-down car at the moment.”
When the kids finished eating, they cleared their plates, loaded them into the dishwasher and then took off to play in an adjoining room that was visible from the kitchen.
“How do you get them to do that?” Sam asked, amazed by the dishwasher action.
“You make them do it every time,” Lenore said. “That’s how they grow up to not be useless.”
“Good tip. I’ll keep that in mind. This tomato soup is the best I’ve ever had.”
“Mom is famous for it,” Ayana said. “She makes it in huge batches.”
“It’s delicious.” Sam pulled her notebook from her back pocket and put it on the table, flipping it open to the page she’d noted earlier. “I was wondering if we could talk about Calvin’s cousin D’Andre.”
Both women seemed alarmed at the mention of his name.
“What about him?” Lenore asked.
“His name came up when we were reviewing Calvin’s case files, and when I spoke to former Detective Morse about Calvin’s case, he mentioned D’Andre.”
“Detective Morse wanted to do more, but they wouldn’t let him,” Lenore said. “He was good to us. I never forgot that.”
“I don’t know him personally, but he was very helpful when I talked to him.”
“There was this blue wall of resistance when it came to dealing with dead Black kids back then. It’s still there, in many cases. I could never get anyone who mattered to care about my son’s case.”
“I’m very sorry you had that experience.”
“It wasn’t just me. I know a lot of other people who did too. And others since then. We both know this is a much bigger topic than this one case.”
“Yes,” Sam said with a sigh. “It is.”
“That’s why I appreciate you so much. From the first minutes of this nightmare, when you responded after Calvin was shot, you’ve showed me your heart. I’ve never had any reason to think you’re not exactly what you seem.”
“Thank you, and I’m very sorry that Calvin’s case wasn’t given the attention it deserved from the beginning.”
“I’ve read about what became of Detective Stahl and what he did to you. It was appalling.”
“He’s where he belongs, and I’m going to do my very best to help you get justice for Calvin. It may not happen right away. Hell, it might never happen after all this time. But I won’t stop trying. I promise.”
Lenore put her hand over Sam’s. “You can’t possibly know what it means to me to have someone of your caliber working on Calvin’s case.”
“Can we talk about D’Andre?” Sam asked, moved by Lenore’s faith in her. “How is he related to you?”
“My late husband’s nephew,” Lenore said. “He was the sweetest boy you’d ever met until he was thirteen. That’s when his father was shot in an armed robbery at a friend’s house. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and D’Andre… He was just so bitter about losing his dad that way. My husband was equally distraught over the death of his baby brother. His heart stopped less than four months later, and I’ve always believed he died of a broken heart.”
Sam took furious notes as Lenore told her story. “How old was Calvin when his uncle and father died?”
“He was eleven, two years younger than D’Andre, but they’d been very close until D’Andre’s father was killed. After that, we didn’t see much of D’Andre. It was like someone flipped a switch, and this very good boy became someone we barely recognized. He started hanging out with the wrong kids and doing everything he could to break his poor mother’s heart. Then he started getting into trouble. Little things at first—shoplifting, underage drinking, speeding. It didn’t take long for that to escalate into drug possession, assault. A girlfriend accused him of attacking her. He was in and out of juvie, and then, when he was twenty-one, he did two years at Jessup for possession of heroin.”
“Where is he today?”
“That’s where it gets interesting. While he was in Jessup, he found Jesus through a Bible study group there and completely turned his life around. He’s the pastor at First Baptist on Capitol Hill.”
“I drive by that church every day on my way to work. If you’d asked me to bet on what he was doing now, I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
Lenore laughed. “Right? He was a changed man after those two years in prison. It was like someone gave him a good shaking, and he remembered who he’d been before his daddy was killed. The sad part is his mama didn’t live to see the change in him. She died of breast cancer while he was locked up.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“He’s had us, and we’ve had him,” Ayana said. “He’s like a brother to me. No one can take the place of my own brother, but D’Andre has been there for me, and vice versa. Our kids are growing up like siblings rather than third cousins. I was so afraid you were going to say he had something to do with Calvin’s death, and neither of us wanted to hear that.”
“I’m glad you’ve had each other.” Sam hated to have to ask something that would upset them, but if she was going to get them answers, she had to ask the hard questions. “Is there any chance that Calvin’s shooting was in some way tied to what D’Andre was up to at the time?”
Mother and daughter glanced at each other.
“Of course that’s occurred to us,” Lenore said. “But D’Andre has always said if it was related to him in some way, he would’ve known. He was as heartbroken by Calvin’s death
as anyone. He got even more remote and hostile after that.”
“Do you have photos of both boys from around the time of Calvin’s shooting?”
“I have school photos upstairs,” Lenore said. “I’ll be right back.”
After she left the room, Ayana said, “She gets so, so excited whenever someone takes an interest in the case, and inevitably, it always ends up with her devastated again. Please don’t do that to her. I don’t think she’d survive it if you let her down too.”
“I promise I won’t let her down. I may not be able to solve the case, but I’ll keep trying for as long as I wear the badge. You have my word on that.”
“Thank you.”
Lenore returned a few minutes later with two framed five-by-seven photos. “This is Calvin, and this is D’Andre. Sorry they’re dusty.”
Sam took the photos from her and studied the two young men, noting the family resemblance. “They look a lot alike.”
“My husband and his brother were often mistaken for twins. The boys favored their fathers.”
The further she dug into this case, the more she began to believe that Calvin might’ve been a victim of mistaken identity. The cousin who closely resembled him in age and looks had been in a lot of trouble. Had that trouble cost Calvin his life? After hearing what D’Andre had come to mean to these women, she hoped the case didn’t go in that direction.
“Who else was close to Calvin in the year before he died who might be able to shed some light on things for me?”
“Clarissa,” Ayana said. “She was his girlfriend from eighth grade on. I swear those two would’ve gotten married if he hadn’t died. They were so crazy about each other.”
“Where is she now?”
“Still in the neighborhood, married with three little ones.” Lenore recited an address a few blocks away. “We still see her. She’s remained very faithful to us and Calvin’s memory.”
“Will she mind if I stop by to see her?”
“I can’t imagine she would. She wants justice for him as much as we do.”
Sam glanced at the clock over the stove. “I have a stupid meeting at the stupid White House in thirty minutes.” When she realized she’d said that out loud, she grinned. “Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”
