by Marie Force
Outside interrogation room two, Sam took a moment to summon her mojo and prepare to sew this thing up for Tara and her family.
She burst into the room, enjoying the way Delany jolted and looked at her with startled doe eyes gone wide with fright. Good. She ought to be afraid. Sam didn’t recognize the young female attorney sitting with Delany.
“Detective Carlucci, please record this interview.”
Carlucci recited the date, time and the names of the people present.
“My client hasn’t done anything wrong,” the lawyer said.
Sam ignored the attorney and spoke directly to Delany. “Are you willing to answer our questions?”
“Yes!”
“How long have you been communicating with Mr. Massey separate of Ms. Weber?”
Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that. She glanced at the attorney and then at Sam. “I, um, for a while now.”
“Please describe your relationship with him.”
“We... He... He paid me to tell him what she was doing.”
“Did you tell him she was pregnant?”
Delany shook her head. “She said it was very, very important that no one know about the baby. She wouldn’t tell me why, but she wore larger clothes and kept it hidden from everyone. I didn’t tell Bryce about the baby.”
“But you told him everything else?”
Delany nodded.
“Use your words.”
“Yes.”
“And what would Tara have said if she’d known this?”
“She would’ve murdered me. The last thing she wanted was for him to know what she was doing. She was very bitter about him after she saw him last winter. She never would say what happened between them, but she was through with him.”
“If that was the case, why’d you betray her?”
“I needed the money, and I was worried about her. She went a little nuts after they broke up, and I was afraid something would happen to her.”
“On the day she was murdered, did you let Bryce into her home?”
“You don’t have to answer that, Delany,” the attorney said.
“I...I want to. Yes, I let him in, but he made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. He said he needed to talk to her about the baby, because he thought it might be his, and he needed to know. She wasn’t returning his calls or texts, and he said if the baby was his, he had a right to know that.”
“Had you told him that she planned to come home that day?”
Delany looked down at the table, seeming ashamed.
Good, she should be. Sam felt sick over the way Tara had been betrayed by someone she’d trusted.
“Yes, I’d told him that.”
“So you let him in and then what?”
“I left like he asked me to.”
“I’m trying to understand, as a woman, how another woman sets up her female employer to be ambushed by an ex in her own home. How does that happen?”
“I’m sorry!” Delany broke down into sobs. “I had no idea he’d hurt her! He told me he loved her and wanted to keep her safe always. If I’d known he was going to do this...” She shook her head.
“How long after you left did you return to her place?”
“A couple of hours. Her mother called me and asked me to check on her when they couldn’t reach her. The baby, he was due to be fed and they were wondering when she’d be back to their house.” Delany wiped away tears.
“Did you know right away what was wrong?”
“No! I told you! It never occurred to me that he’d hurt her. He said he just wanted to talk to her.”
“Tell me again what happened when you returned.”
“I let myself in and called for her. When she didn’t answer, I went into her room and found her on the bed.”
“And did you immediately know that Mr. Massey had killed her?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell us that the first time we talked?” Sam wanted to throttle her for wasting so much of their time. That was also a crime, in her opinion.
“Because I was afraid of what would happen to me!”
“You understand that you subjected Tara to a nightmare before he killed her, right? He forced her to remove her clothing and lie on the bed where he attacked her.”
“I’m so sorry.” Delany’s sobs sounded like hiccups. “I loved Tara. I never would’ve hurt her.”
“Yet you betrayed her by working for Bryce and then by letting him into her home, where he was able to ambush her.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Wasn’t it?” As another possibility occurred to her, Sam leaned in. “Were you sleeping with him?”
The attorney pounced. “Don’t answer that, Delany.”
Sam stared down the younger woman until she broke.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“For how long?”
“More than a year.”
“Did he tell you he was also fucking one of the receptionists he works with? A woman named Ashley?”
Delany’s face went blank with shock.
“Didn’t think so.” Sam pushed a yellow pad and pen across the table to her. “Write it down. Every detail, from the second he first made contact with you until you let him into her place the day she was murdered. Don’t leave anything out. I want to know every time you saw him, banged him, reported to him about her.”
With shaking hands, Delany took the pen from Sam.
“Wh-what’s going to happen to me?”
“You’ll be charged with accessory to murder.”
Her face went blank with shock. “I didn’t kill anyone! I had no idea he was going to do that to her!”
“You let him in and didn’t warn her he was there. This is on you.”
“No!”
“If you help them nail him, they might go easier on you.” The attorney glanced at Sam for confirmation.
“That depends entirely on what kind of help your client gives us.” Sam got up and left the room with Dominguez and Carlucci in tow.
“You were awesome in there, LT,” Carlucci said when the door closed behind them.
“What she said,” Malone commented when he came out of the observation room with Miller and Farnsworth.
Sam sagged against the cinder block wall. “I feel sick as a woman for what she allowed to happen to Tara.”
“Unimaginable,” Dominguez said.
“What’s the plan with Massey?” the chief asked.
“I’m going to let him stew for a bit while I wait to see what Delany gives me. We need the DNA results. I’d like to know ASAP if he’s the baby’s father.”
“I’ll see what I can do to exert some additional pressure,” Farnsworth said. Requests from him tended to get top priority with the lab.
“You ought to go home and get some sleep,” Malone said. “We can pick it up at seven.”
Sam checked her watch. That would give her five hours. She’d take it. To her detectives, she said, “Excellent work tonight. Feel free to come back for the fireworks in the morning.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Carlucci said.
“Before you leave, ask Patrol to take Mr. Massey to a cell downstairs until we’re ready to talk to him, and stay on Delany.”
“Will do.”
While pumped about closing the case, Sam was horrified by what’d happened to Tara. In the morning, she’d report the outcome to Tara’s parents.
“And with that, I’m out for now.”
* * *
SAM WAS BACK at HQ at six forty-five, having slept fitfully for a couple of hours. With adrenaline and dread pumping through her system, it’d been hard to sleep. The adrenaline came from nailing a killer, the dread from having to detail their daughter’s death to Tara’s parents.
“Massey is raising a ruckus downstairs,” Malone said. “He’s demanding to be told why he’s in custody.”
“Have we gotten a report back on whether his prints match the ones on Tara’s neck yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Until we have that, he’s on ice. I want this locked and loaded before we square off with him.”
“Does it matter if he’s the baby’s father?” Carlucci asked.
“It may go to motive, that she withheld that information from him and he found out about the baby at the same time everyone else did,” Sam said. “But that’s a detail we can confirm later. I want the prints to be his before we confront him.”
“They’re his,” Freddie said when he joined them holding a printout he handed to Sam.
Sam scanned the report. “Got you, you motherfucker. Have him brought upstairs, please.”
Freddie turned to see to her order. “I’m on it.”
Sam went into her office to review the reports on the case, going through the details methodically, preparing to nail the son of a bitch who’d taken Tara’s life.
Freddie returned twenty minutes later. “He’s in interrogation one. A real pleasant sort of guy.”
“I missed this at the beginning of this case.”
“No, you didn’t. He had an airtight alibi and had been broken up with her for more than a year. It never occurred to me either that it was him.”
“Still, I feel like I missed it.”
“If you did, I did too.”
Sam rose, grabbed the file with everything about the case and headed for the door. “Carlucci, Dominguez, let’s sew this up.” She lowered her voice so only Freddie could hear her. “They’ve earned this.”
“No worries.”
She appreciated that he understood there were times when she had to give others a chance to shine. It was never lost on her that being her partner wasn’t the easiest job, but he always rose to the challenge and for that she was eternally grateful to him.
With the two detectives in tow, she headed for the interrogation room where a uniformed Patrol officer stood watch outside the door.
These were the moments she lived for, confronting murderers with the irrefutable proof of their guilt. She thought of Tara, of the baby she’d yearned for and finally had, only to be taken from him two short weeks after his birth. The only thing she could do for Tara—and her son—was to make sure that the man who’d killed her never again walked free. With that goal in mind, she burst into the room, taking the two men inside by surprise.
CHAPTER THIRTY
SAM WAS SURPRISED herself to see Devon Sinclair sitting next to Massey. She’d met Devon during the investigation into his uncle Julian Sinclair’s murder, during which Devon himself had nearly died after being shot. His presence threw her momentarily off her game until she recovered herself and proceeded into the room. She wanted to know how Devon knew Massey, but she could ask him later. For now, her job was to nail his client to the wall.
Massey glared at her. His hair stood on end, and Sam noted with satisfaction that orange wasn’t his color.
Sam kept her unblinking gaze fixed on him. “Detective Dominguez, please record this interview.”
While Dominguez noted the date, time and who was in the room, Sam continued to stare at Massey. Then she took her time sitting and opening the folder. “When did you decide it would be a good idea to fuck Tara Weber’s assistant and then hire her to spy on Tara for you?”
Judging by his shocked expression, Massey hadn’t expected that question. He glanced at Devon, as if to ask him what he should do.
“Answer the question, Bryce.”
A defense attorney who encouraged cooperation was indeed a rare species in her world. “Do you need me to ask the question again, Mr. Massey?”
“No, I don’t need you to ask it again. Delany and I were friends, separate of Tara.”
“So you knew her before she worked for Ms. Weber?”
“No, but—”
“Then you knew her because of Ms. Weber. Because you were keeping tabs on her?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like, then?”
“Tara went wild after our breakup. She was out with different guys every night, sleeping with some of them.”
“What did that have to do with you? As I recall, you told us you ended the relationship because you and Ms. Weber wanted different things.”
“That’s the truth.”
“I guess I don’t understand, then, what business it was of yours what she was doing after you broke up.”
“Just because we weren’t together anymore didn’t mean I stopped loving her.”
Sam raised a brow that she hoped conveyed skepticism. “You loved her so much you hired her assistant to spy on her while you were also banging the assistant?”
A fleeting look of panic crossed his face.
That’s right, asshole, we know all about Delany.
“That’s not what happened.”
“Isn’t it? Detective Carlucci, can you please read to us the part from Delany’s statement where she talks about how Mr. Massey hired her to keep him informed of Ms. Weber’s activities?”
Bryce’s wide eyes conveyed his complete shock that Delany had turned on him.
Watching his stunned reaction to the words that Delany had written brought the sort of satisfaction that made this job so rewarding at times like this.
“I’m sure you thought you had Delany thoroughly brainwashed, but alas, when faced with felony accessory to murder charges, she sang like a canary. Would you like to hear the rest of what she had to say?”
“No.” His fierce expression had become less so as it seemed to settle on him that he was screwed, glued and tattooed.
Time to drop the bomb. “Your prints were on Tara’s neck. We’re charging you with her murder.”
His mouth flopped open in disbelief as if it had never occurred to him that fingerprints could be taken from skin or that he would be caught.
Sam propped her elbows on the table, keeping her gaze fixed on him. “I have to give you credit. You gave us a run for our money with the airtight alibi that turned out to be not-so-airtight. Did you sneak out when your assistant was at lunch?”
“This interview is over,” Devon said, seeming shocked and maybe appalled by what he’d heard.
Bryce started to object.
Devon tried to stop him with a hand on his arm.
“I want a deal!”
“What I really want to know is how an idiot like you managed to wipe the security video.”
“If I tell you, will you give me a deal?”
Sam stood, leaned in so she was a foot from him. “You’ve got nothing to deal. We already got the whole story from Delany. Since you were good enough to leave your fingerprints on Tara’s neck, we don’t need anything more from you.” She turned and left the room, ignoring Bryce’s shouts that she let him explain. She’d heard more than enough. They might never know how he’d managed to mess with the security video, but they could pursue that at trial.
Faith met her in the hallway.
“He’s all yours.”
Faith’s normally rosy complexion had gone pale. “All these cases make me sick, but this one...”
Sam put her hand on the other woman’s arm. “I know. It’s obscene. What’ll you charge Delany with?”
“I need to talk to Tom.” Faith referred to U.S. Attorney Tom Forrester. “Without her cooperation, we have a flimsy case against Massey, but what she did...” Faith gave Sam a fierce look. “There’s no way she’s getting away with that.”
“Agreed. Without her involvement, Tara’s still alive and raising the child she yearned for.” Sam shook her head. Sometimes the depravity she saw on the job was almost too much to bear. “And now I have to go s
ee her parents and explain this to them.”
“I don’t envy you that.”
Worst part of the job, hands down, was dealing with the family members of homicide victims. That was why she wanted the grief group to further support those left behind.
Malone came around the corner from the lobby area.
Sam had thought he was in the observation room.
“The jury’s back.”
* * *
SAM TOLD HERSELF it didn’t matter. She had work to do and would focus on that rather than obsessing about whether the jury had done the right thing and convicted Stahl. She’d know soon enough. Malone had asked if she wanted to be there when the verdict was read.
“Hell no,” she’d replied. That son of a bitch had gotten as much time from her as he was ever going to get.
Rather than go to court, she picked up the phone and called Tara’s mother, asking if she could come see them to update them on the case.
“Yes, of course. We’ll be here.”
“I’ll be there shortly.” She gathered her keys, phone and handheld radio before donning her coat. “Cruz! Let’s go to Herndon.”
He popped up from his cubicle and came trotting after her, working his way into a down parka as he went. “You heard the jury’s in?”
“Yep.”
Thankfully, he got the message that she didn’t wish to talk about it and didn’t mention it again on the torturous ride to Herndon. How anyone could stand to live so far from the action in the District was beyond her. They were almost there when Nick called.
Sam took the call while juggling the steering wheel and earning a glare from her passenger as the car swerved. “Hey.”
“Samantha.”
“Uh-oh. Why am I getting the full title?”
“Did you forget to tell me the jury is in?”
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah, that. How’re you doing?”
“Fine. I’m on my way to tell Tara’s parents that her ex-boyfriend murdered her with the help of her assistant. Other than that, I’m great.”
