“Crime Scene was able to tie him to the vandalism in your office. He’s also being charged with malicious mischief.”

  “I need a moment to process this dream-come-true moment,” Sam said, although she was aware that Ramsey’s removal from the force didn’t end the threat he posed to her.

  “I thought you might be pleased to hear this news.”

  “How could he be so stupid as to think he wouldn’t get caught?”

  “Just like Stahl making phone calls to the media from the lieutenants’ lounge.”

  “Exactly! If I was going to come after a fellow officer,” Sam said, “I’d make sure no one could trace it back to me.”

  “Like if you were, say, to investigate someone like Ramsey and discover he was having an affair?”

  “Just like that, but that wasn’t me.”

  “Of course it wasn’t,” Archie said, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re far too busy to involve yourself in such petty matters.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Whoever investigated him did us all a big favor. We don’t need his shit around here after everything with Stahl, Conklin and Hernandez.”

  “True.”

  “What’re you hearing about your dad’s case?”

  “There’s an evidentiary hearing after the holidays.”

  “You don’t have to testify, do you?”

  “No, I was kept at arm’s length on that one. Avery Hill and the FBI are working with the U.S. Attorney.”

  “That’s good. We can’t afford any conflicts of interest on something that hot.”

  “Right.”

  “They’re going down for it, Sam. Tell me you know that.”

  “I do, but it’s weird how it matters so much less to me than it did when my dad was still alive. What difference does it make now that he’s gone?”

  “It makes all the difference,” Archie said, all signs of amusement long gone. “What they did was monstrous, and they deserve to fry for it. And Conklin, sitting on what he knew for four years. It’s total bullshit.”

  “Yeah, for sure.”

  “None of us can possibly know how hard this is for you, but trust me when I tell you that just about everyone on this force wants justice for your dad.”

  “That’s good to know. Means a lot to me.”

  “We want justice for Steven Coyne, too.”

  “I do, too. For both of them.”

  Weeks later, Sam was still trying to get her head around the facts of the shooting that had left her dad a quadriplegic—and the connection to the drive-by shooting of his first partner twenty years earlier. All to protect a secret gambling ring run by City Councilman Roy Gallagher and his cohorts. And Paul Conklin, her dad’s successor as deputy chief, had known all along who was behind the shooting and had sat on the information while pretending to be a close friend to her dad. It was beyond outrageous.

  “Will you do me a favor?” Sam asked Archie.

  “Anything you need.”

  “Check to see if the coast is clear of Ramsey before I head downstairs?”

  “Yep.”

  While she waited for Archie to return to his office, she thought about how lucky she was to have friends like him and many others at work. The Stahls, Ramseys and Conklins had been the minority during her career, and she was relieved to be rid of Ramsey on the job.

  “All clear,” Archie said when he returned, “but I’ll walk out with you just in case he resurfaces.”

  “Normally, I’d say no need for such things, but this time I’ll just say thanks.”

  “You got it.”

  Archie walked her all the way downstairs to the pit, where she found her squad putting her office back to rights after the CSU investigation.

  “Did you hear the news, Lieutenant?” Detective Jeannie McBride asked, smiling widely.

  “I did.”

  “Rumor has it that the chief is going after his pension, along with that of Stahl, Conklin and Hernandez.” They’d found out after the fact that Hernandez, the Patrol commander, had also known who was behind her father’s shooting and had kept the information to himself.

  “Good,” Sam said. “None of them deserve to live fat off the city when they left the department in disgrace.”

  “No, they certainly do not,” Jeannie said fiercely.

  “Thank you all for doing this,” Sam said to Jeannie, as well as Detectives Green and O’Brien.

  “No problem,” Green said. “We put your files back together as best we could, but you might want to flip through to make sure things are where you want them.”

  “I have no doubt they’re better organized now than they were before. I sincerely appreciate this, you guys.”

  “You have enough to deal with,” O’Brien said.

  He’d recently joined the squad to replace Detective Will Tyrone, who’d left the department in the wake of his friend Detective Arnold’s murder. O’Brien was fitting in nicely.

  “What’s the latest with the case?” Green asked.

  “We’re getting nowhere fast,” Sam said. “Let’s gather in the conference room in ten to go over what we have so far.” She went into her office, which was cleaner than it had ever been, and tried to find the legendary mojo that was missing on this case.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Sam looked up to find Dr. Trulo in her doorway. “Come in.”

  He came in and closed the door. “Heard about what happened with Ramsey tossing your office and getting himself fired.”

  “I got rid of him without having to lift a finger.”

  A smile teased at the corners of Trulo’s mouth. “He remains a powerful enemy, however.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that and will watch my back.”

  “I’m glad you have Secret Service to help keep an eye on your back.”

  “That doesn’t suck in situations such as this.”

  “I came down to see if you need me to do anything for you before tonight.”

  Her mind went completely blank. What was tonight?

  “Sam,” Trulo said, sounding exasperated and amused. “The second grief group meeting is tonight.”

  “Oh, right.” They’d agreed to get a second meeting on the schedule before the holidays so people could turn to each other for support if needed. “I knew that.”

  “Don’t make it worse by lying to my face.”

  “I’m not lying. I remembered!”

  “No, you didn’t,” he said, chuckling, “but that’s okay. I’ve got you covered if you can’t make it. I understand you have a lot on your plate these days, especially after the tragedy in Des Moines.”

  “It is a lot, Doc. Nick and I are really struggling with how best to support the families in Iowa.”

  “May I?” he asked, gesturing toward her visitor chair.

  “Sure.” Her team could wait five more minutes for her.

  “The best thing you both can do is to go there and show you care about what happened to them, that you care about the underlying issues that cause these things to happen, that you’re determined to do what you can to try to bring about change.”

  “It feels so inadequate.”

  “Having the president and first lady come to offer their condolences won’t feel inadequate to the people affected.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

  “I’m always here for you, Sam, whether it’s department related or not. You have a friend in me.”

  “That’s very comforting. I’ll be there tonight.”

  “I requested a bigger room in light of the interest I’ve received since we were on the Today show.”

  “Oh wow. Has it been a lot?”

  “More than three hundred departments have reached out to ask about our blueprint, and I’ve heard from quite a few people associated with past cases of ours who were interested in attending the next meeting. Thus the bigger room.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing.”

  “It’s all thanks to you and your brilliant idea.”

  “And thanks to your brilliant execution of my idea.”

  “We make a good team, you and me.”

  “Yes, we do. Speaking of that… You might be hearing from my husband.”

  Trulo’s eyebrows lifted. “About?”

  “Leading a task force looking to address the connection between mental health and gun violence.”

  “The president… wants me… to…”

  Amused by his flustered reaction, Sam said, “Lead his mental health task force. If you’re willing, that is.”

  “Of course I am. What an unbelievable honor that would be. I assume you suggested me for this?”

  “Only when he thought I might make for a good chair.”

  Trulo laughed at that before he made a futile attempt to curb his amusement.

  “It’s okay to laugh. I thought it was funny, too.”

  “Would you be on this task force with me?”

  “In sort of a figurehead kind of way, like I am with the grief group.”

  “Ah, I see how it is.”

  “You do all the work. I get all the glory.”

  They shared another laugh. “I’m happy to share the glory with you, my friend.” He stood to leave. “Take good care of yourself while you’re helping your husband care for others, especially in light of what you’re already dealing with.”

  “I will,” she said, touched by his concern for her after the recent loss of her beloved father. “Thank you again.”

  “See you later.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After Dr. Trulo left, Sam gathered her hair into a twist that she secured with a clip, grabbed a half-empty bottle of water and her notebook before joining her team in the conference room.

  “I saw you were with Dr. Trulo, so I took the liberty of updating everyone on what we have so far,” Freddie said.

  “Thank you. Unless anyone has a better idea, my plan is to see the sons’ football coach next. I have no idea if he’ll have anything to add, but we’ll check that box.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” Cameron said, “and I keep coming back to how she was killed. There’re really only a few things that would spark the kind of emotions that would lead to that kind of murder—love, money, sex, power.”

  “Very good thinking,” Sam said, impressed as always by the sharp young detective who’d joined them after Detective Arnold was murdered. “Let’s take them one by one.” They’d started a murder board for Pam, with photos of her in life and death, as well as a time line of what they knew so far. She went to the second dry-erase board and wrote the words love, money, sex and power across the top.

  “What do we have under love?” she asked.

  “Her family,” Jeannie said. “Her friends. Her business. Her community.”

  Sam made notes of each one of those things. “What else?”

  “I can’t think of anything else we’ve learned about her that wouldn’t be covered by one of those things,” Freddie said.

  “How about money?”

  “We ran the financials for both her and Bob,” Cam said. “We found nothing out of the ordinary. An upper-middle-class existence with the usual bills and expenses that come with having three children, one of them in college in Boston. There were no unusual deposits or withdrawals in the last six months.”

  “I checked her business accounts,” Jeannie said. “The business made about three hundred thousand last year and was on track for a bigger year this year. According to the testimonials on her website, she was the best at what she did, and a wide variety of organizations relied on her to provide flawless events for their members and stakeholders.”

  “Next is sex. What stands out?”

  “She was happily married,” Freddie said. “Everyone we talked to mentioned how solid she and Bob were as a couple and all of them were as a family. Nothing like the vibe we picked up right away that something was rotten when we were investigating Ginny McLeod’s murder.”

  “True,” Sam said. “That family was in a class by itself.” She pointed to the final column on the dry-erase board. “We’re left with power.”

  “I haven’t picked up a sense that either she or Bob were power hungry,” Freddie said. “They seemed like the types to keep to themselves and their kids and the people closest to them.”

  “One thing to consider,” Cameron said. “The sons are elite football players. Freddie said Lucas is on track for a scholarship with a D-1 college program. That’s big time. We might want to do some digging into the dynamics of his football situation.”

  “That’s a thread,” Sam said.

  “I’d suggest speaking to each of the kids individually,” Jeannie said. “Sometimes teenagers pick up on tensions or arguments or things that they’d keep to themselves unless asked directly.”

  “That’s a good idea, too,” Sam said. “We’ll do that after the football coach. In the meantime, the rest of you can stay on the computers, digging into each member of the family. As you know, no detail is too small. I want reports on the kids’ social media as well.”

  “We’re on it,” Gonzo said. “We’ve got a few things to talk about from Stahl’s files, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “A missing teenager who was never investigated, to start with.”

  “Ugh,” Sam said. “Tell me that’s the worst of it.”

  “That’s the worst of what we’ve found so far,” Gonzo said.

  “Is it safe to assume it was a Black teenager?” Sam asked.

  “It is, a girl.”

  “Why did I know you were going to say that?”

  “Because Stahl was a scumbag, and now we’re finding out he was even more of one than we thought.”

  “He was a racist scumbag on top of all his other charms,” Jeannie said fiercely. “With your permission, I’ll dig into that unsolved case.”

  “Please do,” Sam said. “Keep me posted.”

  “I will.”

  “All right, everyone, let’s get to work.”

  * * *

  Sam and Freddie found Mark Ouellette at a nondescript office on Rhode Island Avenue with several employees working at desks in the outer office. Although he immediately recognized Sam, he didn’t overreact, but he did seem nervous.

  “You’re here about Pam,” he said. “We’re all just shocked and heartbroken.”

  “How did you find out about her death?”

  “My son, Aidan, heard it from some other kids on the team. He plays with Pam’s sons, Lucas and Justin.”

  After he closed the office door, he gestured for them to sit in visitor chairs on the other side of his messy desk.

  “Do you own this business?” she asked.

  “I do. I have to make my own schedule to accommodate my second job as a football coach. What happened to Pam? No one has been able to find that out.”

  “She was found bound and gagged in her minivan in Southeast.”

  “Oh my God.” He rubbed a trembling hand over his face. “And you’re sure it’s her?”

  Sam gave him a perplexed look. “Of course we’re sure.” After a beat, she continued. “I have to be honest with you, Mr. Ouellette. Your reaction seems intense, considering we’re talking about the mother of some of the kids you coach. You seem incredibly upset.”

  “I am incredibly upset. Pam was a wonderful person. She helped so much with the management of the team. I’ll be lost without her.”

  “And that’s all it was between you and her?” Sam asked, working a hunch. “The management of the team?”

  He gasped with outrage. “What’re you asking?”

  “You know what I’m asking. Were you involved with her beyond the team?”

  “No, I wasn’t. She’s happily married, and so am I. I have a wife and four children. She has three kids and has been with Bob forever. Our families were connected through football for many years. I considered her a close friend, so yes, I’m very upset that she’s been murdered.”

  While his words were convincing, the tingle that attacked Sam’s backbone told her to look closer, to dig deeper. She’d learned to trust those tingles. “I’m going to say this once and only once, Mr. Ouellette. If you know something that might be relevant to this investigation, I urge you to come forward with it now. If we have to come back here, the next visit won’t be friendly.”

  He swallowed hard enough that his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. For a long moment, he said nothing as he stared blankly at the wall behind them. When he shifted his gaze back to her, he said, “I’d like to speak to an attorney.”

  While he made the phone call to the attorney, Sam texted Freddie. Didn’t see that coming.

  I know, right?

  My backbone was tingling.

  Ew.

  No, listen, that usually means I need to pay closer attention. It’s like my intuition system or something.

  Well, you and your tingling backbone were right. Something’s up.

  What do you think it will be?

  I have no idea. Her marriage with Bob seemed solid.

  At least HE thought so. Who knows what she was up to?

  “My attorney will be here in fifteen minutes.”

  Sam was thrilled to hear someone was on the way. Waiting for attorneys to arrive could take half a day or longer sometimes. “I’m surprised you were able to get someone that fast.”

  “He’s my brother-in-law.”

  “Does he specialize in criminal law?”

  Ouellette blanched at the word criminal. “No, he doesn’t, but I don’t need a criminal lawyer, because I haven’t committed a crime.”

  Sam wanted to tell him he was a fool to trust something like this to a lawyer who didn’t regularly work with the police, but she wasn’t paid to hand out free legal advice. So she kept her mouth shut and read a text from Freddie.

  He’s a fool to trust this to a hack.

  Sometimes it freaked her out the way he read her mind. Was just thinking the same thing. But that’s not our problem. He knows something. I want to know what that is. He wants a lawyer present, so we’ll wait.

  How long? I’m starving.

  Sam hoped the glare she sent his way sent the message that he needed to shut up about being hungry. He was always hungry. There was never a time when he couldn’t eat a full meal, even if he’d just had one. Dreaming about the day his shit diet caught up to him gave her something to look forward to.