by Marie Force
How do they explain their new extra lavish lifestyle to the friends and family whose money is being used to pay for it?
He wrote back a few minutes later.
I wondered the same things. If you’re going to do something like this, there’re smarter ways to get your friends to invest in something less tangible. And if you’re an investor, don’t you view the property in question BEFORE you turn over a shit ton of money?! But people who have shit tons of money in the first place probably don’t do the same due diligence ahead of time that you and I would do. Which also leads to the fact that she was asking friends and family to invest, and that lends a certain credibility. Who would suspect a FRIEND or FAMILY MEMBER of blatantly stealing from them? In that way, it’s kind of brilliant…
Diabolically brilliant, Sam replied. We’ll talk to Haverson to start with in the a.m. Divide up the rest of the list among the team. And thanks again for getting a jump on this. You earned multiple gold stars!
Ha-ha, how do I cash in on these gold stars you speak of? Also, we need to talk about the OTHER THING in the a.m. I might have something for you.
I’m intrigued. Gold stars to be redeemed as the LT sees fit. The system is somewhat arbitrary and undefined. Have a good night and thanks again.
The “other thing” was a side investigation into Sergeant Ramsey they were conducting completely off the books. They believed he reported Gonzo for buying drugs on the street and was looking for any way to discredit Sam and her squad.
She’d asked Freddie, Jeannie and Cameron to do some digging into Ramsey, leaving no paper trail that could come back to bite them. She couldn’t wait to hear what Cam had uncovered.
She read through the reports Cam had forwarded to her from the FBI investigation into Ginny’s scheme and how it had unraveled, as well as the IRS audit of how she’d spent the money. The home she’d been murdered in was relatively new, as were the luxury cars she, her husband and children drove. They’d been on trips to Europe, a safari in Africa and a cruise in the South Pacific, but all that represented only a small fraction of the missing money. The Feds believed the rest had been stashed offshore, but they’d been unsuccessful in locating the accounts.
Sam tried to imagine living large right under the noses of the people she’d stolen from. It was so brazen as to be unreal. Ginny was either the smartest criminal in the history of criminals or the stupidest. Sam couldn’t decide which. This would be one of those cases where she’d have to really work to remain empathetic toward her victim. Often, those she sought justice for were innocent people who were either in the wrong place at the wrong time or caught up in something bigger than they realized until it was too late.
Sam would never go so far as to say that someone deserved to be murdered, but after what Ginny had done to the family and friends who’d invested in her scheme, it wasn’t surprising that someone had exacted the ultimate revenge.
That motive would drive the investigation, and Sam was looking forward to digging into the case in the morning. Because regardless of Ginny’s despicable crimes, she would still get Sam’s best effort—and that of her team—to bring a killer to justice.
Chapter Five
“Did you actually sleep all night?” Sam asked Nick after her alarm went off, waking both of them.
“I did. Can I sign up for snuggle therapy again tonight?”
“Tonight and every night.”
“I’m in.”
They got the kids up and dressed and ate breakfast together while they waited for the lead agent on Nick’s detail, John Brantley Jr., to report to work.
The young, handsome, intense agent knocked on the kitchen door before he stepped into the room. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Vice President?”
“Morning, Brant. The lieutenant and I would like to pay a visit to News Channel 6 around lunchtime today if we can make that happen.”
Sam loved watching Nick in vice president mode, even as she thanked her lucky stars that she’d never have to see him in president mode. Dear God, the very thought of him as president made her weak in the knees.
“Uh, pardon the inquiry, sir, but neither of you is exactly known for courting press attention.”
Nick smiled at the comment the agent never would’ve made when he first started working with them. He’d become increasingly more comfortable with expressing his opinions to them, which was fine with her. Knowing the super competent agent was protecting her husband went a long way toward keeping Sam sane.
“Right you are, Brant,” Nick said. “But we have a very large bone to pick with one of the reporters there, and we’d like to pop in for a face-to-face discussion.”
“Right. Pop in.”
The logistics involved in coordinating that “pop in” would take over Brant’s day.
“Can we make that happen?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And of course the element of surprise is highly desired…”
“Of course. I’ll get back to you with an approximate time.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Brant.”
The agent nodded and left the room.
“He hates our guts, doesn’t he?” Sam asked.
Nick laughed. “I don’t think it’s gotten to that point quite yet.”
“He’s going to write one hell of a tell-all after you’re out of office.”
“No, he won’t.” Nick crooked his finger to bring her close enough to whisper in her ear. “And now we have a nooner to look forward to.”
Sam laughed at the way he waggled his brows suggestively.
“I heard that,” Scotty grumbled. “I don’t even know what that is, but I’m pretty sure it’s gross.”
“Go brush your teeth,” Sam said, laughing at his grumpiness.
Scotty scowled at her and took off to finish getting ready.
“Love you,” Sam called after him. “Have a good day!” Next, she kissed the twins, made sure their lunches were ready to go and left them with Nick for face washing and teeth brushing.
“See you at noon,” Nick said when he kissed her goodbye. “Take good care of my cop this morning. I love her forever.”
“She loves you too.”
As she drove to work, she thought about how the twins’ mother had volunteered at their school, overseen craft projects and planned elaborate birthday parties. Sam felt inadequate compared to her, but showered them with all the love she had to make up for the things she lacked. She could only hope it was enough.
Their sixth birthday was coming up next week, the weekend after Thanksgiving, and they would have a party while Elijah was home from Princeton. Sam had relegated the details to their personal assistant, Shelby Faircloth Hill, the ultimate party planner, who would pull it off without breaking a sweat, whereas Sam would’ve been lost on where to even start.
Thank God for Shelby.
She arrived at HQ and drove around the building to the entrance by the morgue, her first stop being a check-in with Lindsey. “Give me something, give me anything.”
Lindsey looked up from where she was typing on a computer. As usual, she had her long red hair in a ponytail and a tall coffee sitting on her desk. “I got something. Come see?”
“Do I gotta?” Sam hated the morgue and everything that went on there.
“Yep.”
Sam hoped her breakfast would stay where she’d put it and not come rushing up at the sight of something that could never be unseen. “Here I come.” This was one of those times when deep breathing didn’t help, unless the smell of formaldehyde settled your stomach. It only made Sam’s feel worse, so no deep breathing.
Lindsey led her to the table where Ginny was laid out, a sheet covering her that Lindsey peeled back to reveal the nasty injury to her neck that had killed her. “See this?” she asked after she snapped on gloves and pointed to the edges of the wound.
“What about it?”
“I believe you’re looking for a yard implement or something with pointed, sharp edges that would’ve created this p
attern.”
Now that she pointed to it, Sam saw the pattern.
“Like a garden cultivator or what’s sometimes called a Garden Weasel.”
“A what? So not a gardener here.”
“It’s a handheld tool that’s used to clear weeds and such. Has three very sharp rotating tines that churn up the dirt.”
“Rotating tines? Ouch.”
“I know.”
“But that would indicate that whoever killed her maybe didn’t go there with a plan. They likely grabbed the yard tool in the garage and attacked her.”
“That’s what I’m thinking too.”
“This is good stuff, Doc. You’ve given me a thread to pull.”
“And we all know how much you love your threads.”
“Indeed.”
“The tox screen came back negative for drugs or alcohol in her system. No sign of sexual assault, and I saw no other obvious injuries besides the one to her neck that killed her and the cuts on her face. If I had to speculate, your perp grabbed the first available object and took her out.”
“That sounds like a plausible theory—and he or she got lucky with the first strike.”
“It would seem so.”
Sam stepped out of the freezing-cold room to call CSU Lieutenant Haggerty.
She got his voice mail, which irritated her. “It’s Holland. Call me when you can. I’ve got something.” After slapping her phone closed, she turned to speak to Lindsey, who’d followed her out into the hall. “I’ll tell you something Terry is going to hear today that also affects you as Terry’s fiancée, but it’s top secret otherwise.”
“What’s that?”
“Nick isn’t going to run.”
Lindsey’s eyes went wide. “Wow, that’s huge.”
“I know, and frankly, I’m relieved.”
“I’m sure. Did Nick say why?”
“You know how he was raised, right? Teenage parents and a grandmother who didn’t really want him around?”
“I’ve heard that.”
“He doesn’t want to be president. Plus, he’s waited all his life for what we have now, and he doesn’t want to spend months on end away from us on the campaign trail.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“I think so too, and I’m thrilled he won’t be gone all the time. I almost lost my shit when he was in Europe for a week, and when he went to Iran. Ugh…”
“I feel you. It’s tough for me when Terry travels with him, so this is good news for me too, even if I loved the idea of Nick being president. He would’ve been really great.”
“I agree, but we’re looking forward to getting our lives back after he leaves office. As much as we love Brant and the other agents, their presence is a tad intrusive at times.”
“I bet it’s way more than a tad intrusive. I’d hate being watched all the time like that.”
“Nick says he understands now what it’s like to be a goldfish in a bowl with everyone looking at him.”
“That’s a great way to put it.”
“It’s the truth. Well, I need to hit it. I’ve got a noon date with my husband to pay a visit to the reporter who asked if we’re going to have kids of our own.”
Lindsey’s mouth fell open. “You’re going there?”
“Yep.”
“What brought this on?”
“Our son asking us what it means to be a ‘real’ kid.”
“No.”
“He heard it at school and didn’t know what it meant.”
“Sam…”
“I know. It’s infuriating, and we thought it might be fun to tell the reporter who asked the question what she started.”
“I’d give anything to be there to see you two walk into her office.”
“You can come if you’d like.”
Lindsey laughed. “Thanks, but I’ll wait to hear about it from you.”
“I’m actually looking forward to it.”
“God help that woman. She has no idea what’s about to hit her.”
“Nick and I can take whatever shit they fling our way, but don’t come for our kids, you know?”
“Absolutely. You’re doing the right thing and teaching her a lesson she’ll never forget.”
“Let’s hope so. Have a good day, Doc.”
“You too. Let me know how the visit to the TV station goes.”
“Will do.” On the way to the pit, she took a call from Haggerty. “Hey, so the ME has determined our cause of death was most likely a Garden Weasel or a similar implement that would’ve caused a ragged wound.”
“Got it. We’re back on the scene today finishing up. I’ll let you know if we find anything that fits the bill.”
“Thanks very much. Was there anything else useful?”
“Not yet. We took a ton of prints and collected lots of other evidence. It’s all with the lab. Today, we’re working on getting the prints of anyone who had regular access to the house so we can rule out family members.”
“Perfect. Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
When the line went dead, she smacked the phone closed and jammed it into her back pocket. In the pit, she signaled Cameron Green to come into the office.
Squared away as always in a starched light blue dress shirt and matching tie, Green came in carrying a file folder. “Can you ask Cruz and McBride to join us?” he asked.
Sam picked up the phone and buzzed Freddie’s extension.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Come into the office, and bring McBride with you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She put down the extension and waited for them to come in.
Freddie closed the door behind them. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got something on Ramsey,” Green said.
Sam’s backbone tingled the way it did when something was about to break on a case. “Do tell.”
“He’s having an affair.” Green put a series of photos on the desk.
Sam, Freddie and Jeannie leaned in for a closer look.
“The woman’s name is Amy Turnblat. She’s thirty-five and works as an executive chef at La Belle Vie in Potomac. I tailed him over a week, and he spent three nights with her and four at home in Columbia Heights.” Cam put more pictures on the desk, all of them taken from Facebook. “He’s been married to Marlene Ramsey for thirty years, and they have four adult children.”
“Holy bombshell,” Sam said, her mind racing with thoughts of how they could use this info to force Ramsey to back the hell off.
“I’m incredibly impressed, Cameron,” Jeannie said.
“It was actually kind of fun,” Cam said, smiling. “Nothing like catching a scumbag being a scumbag.”
“How do we use this to get him off our backs?” Freddie asked.
“I was just trying to figure that out myself.”
“If I may suggest something?” Cam said.
Sam waved her hand to give him the floor.
“Send the photos in an interoffice envelope with a note that says something like, ‘When you dig for shit on your colleagues, they do the same.’ Nothing more, nothing less. Just that.”
“I love that,” Jeannie said.
“Let’s do it. Type the note on plain white paper and wear gloves so there’s no evidence to trace this back to us.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Cam said.
“Are we all in agreement?” Sam asked.
Freddie hesitated. “I worry about making it worse somehow.”
“How can it get any worse than him basically ruining Gonzo’s career?” Sam asked him.
“I don’t know, and I’m not sure I want to find out.”
“If we don’t do something to put him on notice that what goes around comes around, he’ll continue to make our lives a living hell in every way he possibly can,” Sam said. “We have to do something.”
“I don’t disagree with that. I’m just worried about what his next move might look like.”
“If he makes anoth
er move, we send the pictures to his wife,” Sam said. “He’ll understand that without us having to spell it out.” To Cameron, she said, “Do it. Just like you said.”
“Will do.” He handed her another stack of pages. “I split up the McLeod investors list by locals and out-of-towners, figuring we’ll start local.”
“He’s showing us all up,” Jeannie said when she leaned in for a closer look at the lists.
“He certainly is,” Sam said. “Pass them out, and let’s get to it.”
“You’ve got the FBI meeting at eight,” Freddie reminded her.
“Shit, fuck, damn, hell. Why do I have to go to that stupid meeting?”
“Um, because the chief asked you to?”
“Whatever.” Despite her hatred of meetings that got in the way of real work, Sam actually welcomed the FBI probe into the department. The recent spate of lawlessness within their ranks and the accompanying press coverage had led to the inquiry. At least with Avery Hill overseeing the investigation, they would get a fair shake, but attending that meeting was the last thing Sam wanted to do when she had a fresh homicide to investigate.
“Hopefully, it won’t take long,” Freddie said.
Sam gave him a withering look. Meetings always took too long. A minute was too long, and this one was sure to be longer than that. “Start digging into Brett Haverson, the investor who tipped the FBI. We’ll start with him after the meeting. The rest of you hit the street with the other investors. Call in any updates.”
When she was alone in the office, she reached for the clip on the desk that kept her hair out of the way when she was working and put her hair up. The FBI meeting had been looming for more than a week now, and it still made her feel sick to think about the reasons for it and her involvement in the criminal prosecutions of three high-ranking members of the department, all of it far too close to her for comfort.
Former lieutenant Leonard Stahl had recently been convicted on charges of attempted murder and kidnapping stemming from the day he’d taken her hostage, wrapped her in razor wire and had nearly succeeded in setting her on fire. A renewed investigation into the unsolved shooting of her father had led, shockingly, to Deputy Chief Conklin, Skip Holland’s close friend. The kicker had been discovering Patrol Captain Hernandez had known about Conklin’s involvement and covered it up. The uproar had been fierce and relentless, thus the FBI inquiry.
