State of the union, p.27
State of the Union, page 27
When they arrived at the restaurant, they had to deal with the stunned reactions of staff and patrons alike when they realized the first lady was there.
Sam and Freddie showed their badges to the hostess. “Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz, MPD. We’re looking for Cassie Richardson.”
“Is she in trouble?” the hostess asked.
“No, she isn’t. Can you get her for us, please?”
“Sure.”
The hostess took off on heels so high, she could hardly walk.
“I don’t understand the allure of heels that high,” Sam said. “They must be five or six inches. That makes no sense.”
“Heels make no sense to me in general, but I sure do love what they do for my wife’s spectacular legs.”
“Ew.”
“What? My wife’s legs are in fact spectacular.”
“Knock it off.”
“You started it.”
“Is everyone staring at me, or does it just seem that way?”
“They’re all staring.”
“Awesome. Where’s that hostess?”
Sam went around the hostess stand and made her way to the back of the restaurant, where the hostess was conferring with a dark-haired young woman. “Are you Cassie?” Sam asked the woman.
“I am.”
“Get lost,” Sam told the hostess, who gave her a testy look.
“Do it,” Freddie said. “You don’t want to make her mad.”
During the long weeks on the sidelines, Sam had forgotten how fun this job could be with him as her wingman.
Sam introduced herself and Freddie to Cassie. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Is this about Ling?”
“Yes.”
“Will you keep an eye on my tables?” Cassie asked another waitress.
“Sure,” she said, eyeing Sam.
Cassie led them to a break room and closed the door.
“We spoke with Lily at your apartment, and she mentioned an outing for your birthday at which a guy named Shane was hassling Ling. Do you know where we might find him?”
“I don’t really know him.”
“Lily said he came with guys you know.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Can you please ask them where we might find him, only don’t tell them who wants to know?”
“Of course.” She went to a locker and retrieved her cell phone.
An older woman came into the room. “What’s going on here? Is she in trouble?”
“No, she isn’t. As I’m sure you know, her roommate was murdered. She’s helping us with something, so leave us alone.”
“Make it quick,” the woman said.
“Pleasant,” Sam said after the woman left the room with a loud slam of the door.
“She’s a real joy to work for,” Cassie said sarcastically. She thumbed through her phone and sent a text. Her phone chimed a few seconds later.
“His name is Shane Ramsey. He lives with his parents in Columbia Heights.”
The name Ramsey sent a shaft of electricity down Sam’s backbone. Not to mention, Columbia Heights wasn’t far from Rock Creek Park.
“This is helpful,” Sam said when she recovered from the initial shock of hearing that name. What were the odds of Shane being related to the sergeant? Please God, let there be no connection to him. “Ask where else we can find him besides home.”
She sent the text and then waited. “He works for an auto repair shop.”
Sam wrote down the address, which was also close to the park.
“And hangs out at a bar near work called Woodrefsens.”
“Thank you very much. If they ask why you want to know this stuff, please don’t tell them.”
“No problem. Do you think he had something to do with Ling’s murder?”
“We don’t know yet, but it’s the first solid lead we’ve had.”
Tears immediately filled Cassie’s eyes. “If her death had a connection to me, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“It had nothing to do with you. If this guy is tied to it in some way, that’s on him, not you.”
“Still… He met her through me.”
“No matter what, it’s not your fault, Cassie.”
“We all loved her so much,” Cassie said softly. “I can’t believe I have to go on with my life, go to class and work and study for exams, like nothing’s happened when the worst thing ever has happened.”
Sam handed her a card Dr. Trulo had made to give to victims of violent crime who might benefit from their grief group. “Our next meeting is in two weeks. Please come if you think it will help.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Sam left her with a promise to keep in touch with her and her roommates about the investigation. The woman who’d interrupted them waited at the hostess stand. As they approached, she held up her hand to stop them.
“I don’t care who you are, you can’t come into my place of business and interrupt one of my waitresses like that.”
“Detective Cruz, am I allowed to come in here to interview a material witness in a murder investigation?”
“Yes, you are, Lieutenant.”
“And will I arrest anyone who gets in my way?”
“You often do, ma’am.”
The woman glared at her. “You think you’re so cool.”
“I don’t think it. I know it. Now get out of my way before I have no choice but to arrest you. And if you hassle that young woman, whose roommate was brutally murdered, I’ll come back and arrest you myself.”
Sam pushed past her and headed for the door, feeling pretty good about herself for the first time since she’d fallen on ice and broken her hip.
“That was awesome,” Freddie said when they’d stepped into the cold.
“In case I forget to tell you, I appreciate how you always have the lines memorized.”
“I do what I can for the people.”
She shot a look over her shoulder. “Your lines. Not mine.”
When they were in the car, she turned to him. “Tell me Ramsey doesn’t have a son named Shane.”
He did some poking around on his phone and then glanced at her. “Wish I could.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Son of an asshole, you mean.”
“Why, young Freddie, you said a swear!”
“In this case, it’s warranted. What’s the plan?”
Sam pulled out her phone and put through a call to Malone. “This is above my pay grade,” she said as he picked up the call.
“What is?” Malone asked.
“The fact that my investigation has led me to Ramsey’s son Shane.”
“Stop it. Are you for real right now?”
“Real as it gets.”
“Fill me in.”
Sam told him what they’d learned from Ling Woo’s roommates.
“And we’re sure the guy’s name is Shane Ramsey?”
“We’re sure. They mentioned he lives with his parents in Columbia Heights. Is that where Ramsey lives?”
“Hang on.”
Sam heard him doing some clicking around on his computer. “Yes,” he said with a sigh.
“How do we play this?”
“I don’t want you anywhere near Ramsey’s house or his kid. Come back in, and we’ll figure out next steps. And P.S., what’re you even doing in the field?”
“Detective Cruz needed some assistance.”
Freddie glared at her.
She shrugged and smiled. “We’ll be back shortly.” After she flipped the phone closed, she stared out the window, thinking about how they should play this unlikely turn in the investigation.
“Thanks for tossing me under the bus.”
“That’s my favorite place to toss you.”
“Believe me, I know. As annoying as you are, it’s nice to be getting back to normal around here.”
“Agreed. Being sidelined doesn’t look good on me. Neither does physical therapy, which is now right up there with flying, needles and ice as my least favorite things.”
“But they got you back on your feet.”
“In the most painful way possible.”
Vernon dropped them at the morgue entrance.
“Thanks for the assist today,” Sam said to him and Jimmy.
“Glad to help.”
“They’re not so bad,” Sam said to Freddie as they walked into HQ.
“Not so bad at all, and Vernon already loves you like a daughter.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“That’s sweet. I miss my dad so much.”
“I miss him, too. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you and your family.”
“You were family to him, too, Freddie. You know that.”
“I’d love to ask him what the heck we do about this latest development.”
“Yeah, he’d definitely have an opinion.”
When they reached the pit, Sam said, “Everyone to the conference room. Freddie, call the captain—and the chief.”
“Oh, hello,” Gonzo said. “What’s up?”
“You won’t believe it.”
“Do we have a lead?”
“Do we ever.”
They waited fifteen minutes for the chief to arrive. “Sorry, I was on a call with the mayor, who’s busting her buttons over the big news. Detective McBride, we’re so proud of you.”
“We’re so proud,” Sam added. “My dad would be thrilled to see you in his old office.”
“Thank you all. Your support means everything to me—and I’m going to need it when the word gets out that a detective is being promoted three ranks.”
“We’ve got your back,” O’Brien said. “Couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Back to business.” Malone used his chin to gesture to the chief. “Tell him what you told me.”
“Our investigation has led to Ramsey’s son Shane.”
Gonzo gasped. “Shut. Up.”
“We’re not saying he’s our guy. We’re saying he hassled one of our victims in a bar about ten days before she was raped and murdered. The night they met he told her she’d be sorry she wasn’t receptive to his advances.”
“That makes him our first person of interest,” Jeannie said.
“It does. And since Ramsey has a massive hard-on for me—”
“Disgusting,” Freddie muttered.
“—Gonzo, I want you and Jeannie to find Shane Ramsey and bring him in. Captain Malone, I need you to go directly to a judge with what we have to get a warrant for his DNA. He threatened her, and she turned up dead a short time after. That should be enough to get a warrant, but I don’t want any nosy courthouse people or the sheriff’s deputies that work there talking about this before we have it locked and loaded.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Malone said. “Find him somewhere other than the house where he lives with his parents and make sure he has no time to notify anyone he’s being brought in. Let’s keep this quiet until we know for sure if he’s involved.”
Sam gave Gonzo and Jeannie the address of the auto repair shop where he worked as well as the name of the bar where he was known to hang out.
“We’re on it,” Gonzo said.
After he and Jeannie left, O’Brien went back to the pit, leaving Sam and Freddie alone with the captain and chief.
“Check to see if he has any kind of record,” Malone said to Freddie.
He got up to use the computer in the conference room. “Sealed juvie.”
Farnsworth blew out a deep breath. “If he’s our guy, this is gonna get complicated.”
“You know how we have to have our DNA on file so we can avoid crime scene confusion?” Sam said.
“What about it?” Malone asked.
“We’ve already requested FDS on the local database,” Sam said. “That’d include everyone associated with the department, so if there’s a hit, we’ll know it soon enough.”
“That’s true. I’m not sure whether to hope for or against a hit that ties him to Ramsey,” Malone said as the others grimaced.
Patience had never been Sam’s strong suit, but she feared she’d lose it entirely waiting for the DNA searches to yield results. Why did everything have to take so long when there was someone out there raping and murdering innocent women?
“It goes without saying that even talking to Ramsey’s son will make this thermonuclear,” Farnsworth said. “Let’s proceed with utmost caution.”
“Understood.” Sam’s heart gave a lurch at the thought of Ramsey’s reaction to his son being brought in for questioning in one of her cases. Thermonuclear probably wasn’t a big enough word to describe this situation.
To Freddie, she said, “Get on the computer. I want everything you can find about this guy. I want to know where he went to high school and when, his social media stuff, everything you can find, and make it fast.”
“On it.”
Since she had time for a break, she went into her office, closed the door and sat behind her desk, wincing at the pain radiating from her hip. She pulled the BlackBerry out of her pocket and sent a text to Nick. Call me if you have a minute to talk. Nothing urgent.
The phone rang a minute later, making her smile simply because she got to talk to him. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. What’s going on?”
“You aren’t going to believe it.”
“Lay it on me.”
She told him about the possible connection to Ramsey’s son.
“No way.”
“Right?”
“Holy shit, Sam. What’s the plan?”
“Gonzo and Jeannie have gone after the son and are bringing him in for questioning.”
“Won’t that send his father into orbit?”
“We’re trying to keep it quiet until we know if he’s our guy.”
“How will you figure that out?”
“We need a warrant to get a DNA sample from him, which is in the works. He’s not apt to give us that voluntarily, and the warrant isn’t assured, so we’re thinking outside the box. We may check our DNA sample against his father’s to see if there’s a familial match.”
“Christ, Sam. What if it is him? His father will claim you guys framed him.”
“Which is why we’re doing this as by the book as by the book gets.”
“Just be careful. That guy has it in for you even when you’re not looking at his son for being a serial rapist and murderer.”
“I know. In other news, I’m off the hook with the mayor on the deputy chief’s job because she offered it to Jeannie.”
“No way! That’s amazing. Is she going to do it?”
“She is. We’re very excited for her.”
“I can imagine. Tell her I said congrats.”
“I will. What goes on over there?”
“Other than my VP nominee getting skewered on the Hill?”
“Is she?”
“It’s bad. She’s handling it as well as she can, but they’re ripping her apart, digging into every aspect of her life, her marital woes, all of it.”
“God, I hate that. What the hell do her marital woes have to do with what kind of vice president she’ll be?”
“It has nothing to do with it, but they’re digging into that stuff because their only other reason for opposing her is that she’s even more inexperienced than I am.”
“Inexperience isn’t disqualifying, is it?”
“No, but they’re doing their best to discredit her in every way they can think of.”
“Probably doesn’t help that she’s a woman either.”
“Nope.”
“Even though I’ve had my doubts about her, I find myself rooting for her, because if there’s anything I hate more than misogyny…”
“You hate airplanes and needles more.”
“And black ice and physical therapy. They’ve been added to the list.”
His laughter made her go warm all over. “I guess you’ll be late for dinner, huh?”
“Looks that way but tell the kids I’ll tuck them in when I get home.”
“Will you tuck me in, too?”
“Absolutely. I can’t wait.”
“Love you, babe. Watch your back with that jackass Ramsey.”
“I will. Don’t worry. And I love you, too. See you soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nick ended the call with Sam and sat back in his chair behind the Resolute desk, thinking about the ongoing threat to Sam presented by that son of a bitch Ramsey. Just when they thought they’d gotten rid of him once and for all…
A knock on the door preceded Terry walking into the Oval Office.
“What’s the good word, Terry?” Nick asked, eager to think of anything other than Sam being in danger at work.
“I wish there was a good word, Mr. President. We received a call from Henderson’s team that she’s considering withdrawing from consideration.”
“Oh no. No, no, no. She can’t do that. Can you get her on the phone for me?” Gretchen’s nomination had been Nick’s first big decision as president, and he was determined to get her confirmed.
“Let me see what I can do.” Terry left the office and went to the reception area to speak to one of the assistants, returning ten minutes later. “She’s on the line now.”
“Thanks.” Nick picked up the extension on the desk. “Gretchen, thanks for taking the call.”
“Of course, Mr. President.”
He could hear it in her voice, the weary resignation that came with taking a beating from the Senate. “I understand you’re wavering.”
“I knew it’d be rough, but this is just too much. After all the progress my ex-husband and I have made toward repairing our relationship enough to be good co-parents… He doesn’t deserve this.”
“No, he doesn’t, and you should issue a statement saying just that.” He glanced at Terry, who nodded and pulled out a pen to take notes. “Put the truth out there from your point of view. Say something like ‘while I understand the Senate has a job to do in making sure I’m qualified to be your next vice president, I believe my family should be off-limits in this process. Yes, my ex-husband and I went through a very difficult divorce, but that’s long in the past, and we’ve repaired our relationship to the point where we’re able to be excellent co-parents to our beloved children.’ Or something like that. What do you think?”
