by Marie Force
“Indeed,” Sam said, “but we will get justice for her just the same, whether she deserves it or not. What’re we seeing in the financials?”
“Nothing that would lead you to believe that the woman had twenty million floating around,” Cameron said.
Detective Matt O’Brien, the newest member of their team, distributed a printed summary of the McLeods’ financials, which consisted of several brokerage accounts, bank accounts with several thousand in each and retirement funds. “As you noted, we suspect the bulk of the funds were stashed in offshore accounts that haven’t been located.”
A knock at the door sounded.
“Enter,” Sam called.
Patrolman Clare, whom Sam had met at the scene of Tara Weber’s murder, ducked his head into the room. “Pardon the interruption, Lieutenant, but per your request, we’ve put Ken McLeod in interview one.”
“Thank you, Officer Clare.”
“You should know he’s furious to have been detained and is screaming for a lawyer.”
“I assume you allowed him to make that call?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good work. Thank you.”
He nodded and left the room.
“So we’ve got another member of Ginny’s posse, who says he had nothing to do with the scam, screaming for a lawyer,” Sam said as a headache formed between her brows. “What do we make of that?”
“I want to dig deeper into his alibi,” Freddie said. “We’ve learned—recently—that alibis can be fabricated.” He referred to the Weber case, in which an airtight alibi had proven to be full of holes upon closer examination.
“Good point,” Sam said. “McBride and O’Brien, head out to the Potomac Country Club where McLeod said he played eighteen holes on Sunday and see if you can find people to confirm he was there the whole time. Also, talk to the three people who were part of his foursome.” Sam handed them the piece of paper from her pad where McLeod had reluctantly written down the names and numbers.
“Will do,” McBride said as she and O’Brien got up to leave the room.
“I want to talk to Dan and Toni Alino,” Sam said. “McLeod told us they were his and Ginny’s closest couple friends. Both of Dan’s parents have Alzheimer’s, and she took their money knowing that.”
“This woman gets more despicable with everything new I hear about her,” Cameron said.
“Agreed,” Sam said. “And then there are people like Lenore Worthington, still waiting fifteen years later for justice after her teenage son was gunned down in his own driveway. I’d much rather be taking another look at that case than dealing with this one.”
“Me too,” Cam said. “Maybe after this one is closed?”
“That’s my hope. I’m waiting to hear from Malone that we’re authorized to revisit that investigation. In the meantime…”
“We have to figure out who killed Ginny McLeod,” Freddie said.
“Right,” Sam said. “Let’s go find the son, and we’ll start in the morning with the Alinos.”
Freddie glanced at the clock on the wall. “More likely to find the son at home than at work at this point, I’d imagine.”
Sam was surprised to see it was already five thirty. “Let’s give that a try.” Mandi had given them her brother’s addresses at home and work, as well as his phone number.
“What about Cheri and Ken?” Freddie asked.
“Are their lawyers here yet?”
“Let me check.” He left the room for a few minutes before returning, shaking his head.
“Then I guess they’re going to be our guests for the evening.”
“That ought to make them happy.”
Sam shrugged. “Not my problem. Have them escorted downstairs, and let them know we’ll speak to them after their attorneys arrive tomorrow.”
“I get to do all the fun stuff around here,” Freddie muttered as he went to see to her instructions.
Keeping Cheri and Ken on ice for the night filled Sam with a perverse feeling of pleasure, since they’d both been so agreeable to begin with.
When Freddie returned to the pit fifteen minutes later, he looked frazzled. “Pleasant folks.”
“I take it they’re not happy to be the guests of the District for the night?”
“You’d be correct, but as I mentioned to them, once they ask for an attorney, we have no choice but to wait for the attorney to arrive, and since our shift is ending…”
“What can we do? We can’t force the lawyers to come in after hours.”
“Exactly.”
“Let’s go to Arlington.” Rush-hour traffic out of the District would be hideous.
“Traffic is gonna suck.”
“You read my mind.”
As they went outside, Sam took note of the black SUV with the dark windows parked behind her car, making it so she couldn’t leave unless the SUV moved.
She walked around the SUV and unlocked her car.
“Mrs. Cappuano—”
Spinning around, she confronted the two agents, one of them an older Black man wearing a sharp suit and dark sunglasses, the other young, blond and fresh-faced. “It’s Lieutenant Holland, and here’s how this is gonna work. You’re going to stay out of my way, and don’t talk to me. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the younger agent said. “Lieutenant, ma’am.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” the older agent said with a sarcastically polite tone that Sam respected. “I’m Vernon, and this is Jimmy. It’s our pleasure to offer you protection.”
“Fuck me to tears,” she whispered as she got into her car, started it and began backing up, giving them seconds to move the SUV before she hit it.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’ll pass on that, but what’s this about?” Freddie asked.
“People are going apeshit since Nick’s announcement went public.” Sam gestured toward the unusually large gathering of reporters outside the main door to HQ. “And now I’ve got a temporary detail.”
“Holy crap. You actually agreed to it?”
“My husband asked me nicely, and since he sounded incredibly stressed by the fact that they’d already doubled the size of the kids’ details and tripled his, I agreed to it.”
“Damn. So people are making threats over him deciding not to run?”
“Something like that. He said Brant was pissed that Nick didn’t give the Secret Service a heads-up before the announcement. But like he said, why would he think they’d need to know?”
“Because people are crazy, and they’re going to be disappointed he’s taking himself out of the running.”
“Why would anyone feel he has an obligation to run for president? That boggles my mind.”
“I think it’s more that they wanted him to run so badly, they’re devastated he’s not.”
“Devastated to the point they’d threaten his wife and children with harm?”
“Like you said, people are crazy.”
“They’re just proving he did the right thing by getting the hell out of there. Being VP is bad enough. I can’t imagine what it’d be like for him to be president and have to put up with a whole other level of crazy.”
Twenty minutes later, while they sat in standstill traffic on Memorial Bridge, Sam gazed toward Lincoln, her favorite of the memorials. She often went there when she needed to think. In the distance, the eternal flame marking President Kennedy’s grave at Arlington National Cemetery stood out in the encroaching darkness, a stark reminder of the sacrifices some past presidents had made in service to their country. The sight of that flame made her even more grateful that her beloved wouldn’t be joining their ranks.
“I hate how early it gets dark this time of year,” Sam said.
“I know. It’s depressing.”
“So is this traffic. I don’t know how anyone can stand to commute around here and have to deal with this every day.”
“Agreed. We’re lucky to live in the city.”
It took almost an hour to get to the
neighborhood where Ken McLeod Jr. lived in a brick-faced townhouse. More bricks.
Sam eyed the clock to gauge whether she’d make it home in time to see the twins before bedtime. It wasn’t looking good, which made her ragey. “He’d better be freaking home.”
“I hope so. Lights are on, so that’s a good sign.”
Ignoring the agents, who’d gotten out of their SUV, Sam and Freddie went up the stairs and rang the doorbell. A young man who shared his father’s light-brown hair came to the door wearing a Georgetown T-shirt and basketball shorts.
Sam showed her badge through the storm door. “Lieutenant Holland, MPD. Could we have a minute of your time, please?”
He opened the door. “My sister said the second lady wanted to talk to me.”
“Right now, I’m not the second lady. I’m the homicide detective investigating your mother’s murder.”
“Come in.”
Ken led them to a family room at the back of the stylish house where the TV was set to ESPN. Judging from the smell, he was cooking dinner.
Sam’s stomach growled.
Using the remote, he reduced the volume and gestured for them to have a seat on a gray leather sofa. “Let me just turn down the stove.” When he returned, he sat across from them in a recliner. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re investigating your mother’s murder and wondering if there’s anything you can tell us that might help.”
“Why would I want to help when she ruined my life and my sister’s?”
“Because no one deserves to be murdered.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Some people do, and she’s one of them. She got exactly what was coming to her, and I hope her final moments were as horrible as she’s made my life and Mandi’s since her scheme came to light. My closest friends won’t return my calls or texts because she scammed their parents. They can’t believe I didn’t know what she was doing, but I didn’t. Why would I? I haven’t lived at home in years. How would I know what she does?”
“Were you close to your mother before this?”
“Close as in talked every day? No, but we saw each other, had dinner occasionally, did holidays, the usual stuff. I’m busy. She was busy.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all the time, but we weren’t estranged or anything.”
“But you were after you found out about the investigation?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “Yes, we were estranged after I found out what she did.”
“Did you talk to her about it?”
“What was there to talk about? After seeing the list of victims, I was too busy throwing up to talk to my mother. Everyone close to us was on that list. Can you imagine what it would be like to find out that your own mother scammed the people closest to you? Your friends’ parents? Everyone thinks their money bought me this place, when that’s not the case. But who would believe that with more than twenty million gone missing? And the Audi R8 she gave me for Christmas? I refuse to drive it, and when I sell it, the money is going toward restitution.”
“Where were you on Sunday afternoon?” Sam asked.
He gave her a blank look. “Are you asking if I killed my mother?”
“Did you?”
“No, but I’m not surprised that someone else did. And I was with my flag football team all afternoon. I can give you twenty people who can verify that.”
“Two will be good. Were you sad to hear she’d been killed?”
After a long hesitation, he said, “I’m sad to have lost the mother I used to think she was, the mother who raised me and cared for me and gave me birthday parties and came to my baseball games. I’m very sad to have lost that mother, but apparently, I lost her quite some time ago and didn’t know it until recently. Am I sad that the woman who scammed the people closest to us is dead? Absolutely not. That woman was a monster.”
“Do you have any idea who might’ve been angry enough to murder her?”
“A lot of people were and with good reason. She ruined their lives.”
“Anyone specifically that you know of?”
He shook his head. “Even if I did know exactly who did it, I’m not going there. People have suffered enough because of my family. Whoever took her out did us all a favor. At least now we don’t have to be dragged through a trial.” Taking a breath, he released it and seemed to sag somewhat. “I’m not a heartless bastard, in case you’re wondering. There was a time, not that long ago, when the thought of my mother being murdered would’ve been horrifying. But after what she did…” He grimaced. “I just don’t care.”
“Have you spoken to your dad?”
“Briefly.”
“What’s your feeling on what he knew and when?”
“I think he knew all along, but he swears that’s not the case, and the polygraph supported his claims. Who knows what to believe?”
As always, Sam handed over a business card. “I understand how difficult your situation is, but if you think of anything that might help our investigation, please give me a call. My cell number is on there.”
“Have you heard anything about whether there’s going to be a funeral for my mother?” he asked.
“I haven’t, but I presume your father would know that.”
“He’s not answering his phone.”
“That’s probably because he’s currently in a jail cell at MPD HQ.”
His mouth fell open. “He’s in jail? Why?”
“We wanted to talk to him. He wanted his lawyer, and the lawyer didn’t get there before our shift ended. So he’s spending the night.”
“His attorney probably isn’t coming. The guy he would’ve called was on the list of people my mother scammed.”
“Wouldn’t he know that?”
“He might’ve thought his old friend would come anyway. He won’t.”
“That’s good info to know. Thank you for your time.”
Sam gestured for him to lead the way to the door. She never turned her back on anyone during an investigation, even someone she didn’t suspect of murder.
At the door, he glanced at her. “Will we be notified if you catch our mother’s killer?”
“Do you wish to be?”
He thought about that for a second. “I guess.”
“Then we’ll make sure to update you if or when we close the case.”
“Thank you.”
They stepped outside into cold, dreary darkness that depressed her.
“I freaking hate this time of year,” she said, glancing at the rearview mirror and seeing the two Secret Service agents getting back into their SUV.
“Me too. Except for the part about eating my body weight in turkey. I like that day a lot.”
“You would. You’re a bottomless pit.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
“I can only hope you start growing in the wrong direction. Nothing would make me happier.”
“You’re being a nasty cow.”
“I’m always a nasty cow.” Sam laughed, relieved, as always, for the rapport she shared with him. It made the unbearable bearable on a daily basis. “Am I dropping you back at HQ?”
“Nah,” he said. “I’ll take the Metro. It’ll get me home faster.”
“Lucky you.”
“I’ll be super lucky when I get home.”
“Do you two newlyweds ever take a night off?”
“Do you?”
“None of your business.”
“And yet my sex life is your business?”
“You made it my business when you turned your phone off to get lucky the first time.”
“Oh my God, seriously? Did you really just bring that up? That was almost two years ago.”
“Some things never get old, like you finally getting laid and then getting yourself shot.”
“That was a hundred percent your fault for being a nasty cow.”
“No, that was me teaching you a lesson that you had to go and learn a little too well.”
“You were scared I was going to die.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were.”
Sam pulled into the closest Metro station and brought the car to an abrupt stop. “Get out.”
“Love you too.”
“If you’re still talking, you’re not doing what you were told.”
“Have a lovely evening, Lieutenant.”
“Yeah, yeah, you too. Don’t sprain anything.”
“It does get rather athletic at times.”
“Out!”
Still laughing, he got out of the car, shut the door and took off jogging into the station.
“Freaking pain in my ass,” she muttered as she pulled out of the station and back into traffic, paying no mind whatsoever to whether her detail was following her. Keeping up was their problem, not hers. The phone rang, and she took the call from the department shrink, Dr. Trulo, on the Bluetooth.
“What’s up, Doc?” she asked, amusing herself.
“Checking in about our first meeting tomorrow night.”
“Ahhh…”
“Honestly, Sam. Don’t tell me you actually forgot.”
“I didn’t forget.”
“Liar.”
“Everyone is a comedian today. What’s the plan?”
“I’ve reserved the lieutenants’ lounge for seven o’clock for the grief group meeting.”
Hearing that, Sam wanted to scream at realizing she’d miss another night with her kids, even if it was for a good cause. “I always forget we have a lounge.”
“You do, and you were supposed to reserve it. It’s a good thing I checked.”
“One thing you need to realize about working on a special project with me, Doc, is that you always have to check.”
His laughter rang through the car’s speakers and made her smile. Where she’d once resisted his attempts to shrink her, he’d since become a trusted friend and colleague. “I figured that out a while ago, which is why I also called all the people on your list to let them know our first meeting is scheduled for tomorrow night.”
“You’re nothing if not thorough.”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate. I don’t mind doing a little extra. The only one on your list I couldn’t get in touch with was Roni Connolly.”
“And she’s the one I most wanted to get there.” Sam sighed, resigned to another delay in getting to her family. “I’ll stop to talk to her on the way home. See if I can convince her to join us.”
