“That’ll be the day.”

Chapter Six

With the thought of working out at a gym giving her the willies, Sam called Nick before she left for the chief’s meeting.

“How’s it going, babe?”

“Shitty.” She brought him up to speed on what her morning had entailed.

“Holy fuck,” he said in a soft whisper. “Gonzo, he’s...”

“Innocent. We all know that. Now we’ve just got to prove it. Can you give me Andy’s number? He might have some information about Lori after overseeing Gonzo’s end of the custody case.”

“Sure.” He recited the number for her.

Sam wrote it down. “Thanks.”

“Gonna be a long day, huh?”

“Looks that way.”

“I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She left a message for Andy and then headed for the chief’s suite, where she was stopped by his admin. Sam never could remember the mousy woman’s name.

“Could I speak to you for a moment, Lieutenant?” she asked so softly Sam almost couldn’t hear her. Her brown eyes darted nervously toward the chief’s closed door.

“What’s up?”

“I know you’re close to the chief on a personal level.”

“So what about it?” Sam asked, immediately on edge. She hated being reminded of her personal connections to the brass. So her dad had been a big deal in the department. She’d clawed her way to her current rank all on her own. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but she tried not to think about the discretion the chief had used in making her a lieutenant after learning about her decades-long battle with dyslexia.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not himself, and his face...”

“What’s wrong with his face?”

“It’s sort of gray and unhealthy looking.”

Sam was ashamed to say that she hadn’t paid much attention to how the chief was holding up under Springer’s intense campaign to discredit him. “I’ll talk to him after the meeting.”

“Thank you,” she said, releasing a deep breath. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“You didn’t. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”

She glanced again at the closed door. “He listens to you.”

Sam nodded. “We go way back.” He’d been a huge part of her life growing up, as an adopted uncle. The chief and his wife had been unable to have children of their own. Sam and her sisters, among others, had helped to fill the void for them. Since she joined the department almost fourteen years ago, the two of them had worked hard to maintain a professional relationship in addition to the personal one.

Sam knocked on the door and entered to find the chief along with Deputy Chief Conklin, Captain Malone and all the lieutenants. Wow, he’d called in the troops. She nodded to Archie and Higgins from the Bomb Squad. When had he made lieutenant? She scowled at Davidson and ended up in a seat next to Vice Squad Lieutenant Cole McDonald. Awesome.

She and McDonald had locked horns at the end of the Springer case when his compromised narc investigation had fucked up her homicide investigation.

“Is everyone here?” Farnsworth asked Conklin, who took a look around the assembled group and then nodded. “Thank you all for coming in on a holiday. I appreciate it very much. As you know, the department—and me in particular—is under fire for our handling of the Springer case. Bill Springer is channeling his grief over losing two sons into a witch hunt aimed squarely at this department and this office.”

As Farnsworth spoke, McDonald looked down at his hands, which were twitching on his lap.

He ought to be twitching. His fuckup had led to a nightmare for the department and the chief. Well, if she were being entirely fair rather than only outraged, he was probably as upset about it as anyone. Sam raised her hand.

“Holland.”

“I’m wondering if we have any more information about how the narc investigation was compromised.”

Beside her McDonald froze, his discomfort and anger palpable.

Sam knew she was an asshole for blindsiding her fellow lieutenant with the question, but one of her best officers had nearly died because of his team’s screwup, and she wanted answers.

“McDonald?” the chief said. “What’ve you got?”

“We’re continuing our internal investigation. I’ve spoken with every member of the undercover team in-depth, and no one had contact with Springer or any of our other marks the night before the shoot-out in Friendship Heights.”

“So we still don’t know how he found out we were focused on him for the homicides?” Sam asked.

“No.” McDonald spoke through gritted teeth. “We don’t.”

“It’s been six weeks—”

“I know how fucking long it’s been,” McDonald lashed back at her. “Do you think this isn’t on my mind every fucking minute of every fucking day?”

“McDonald,” Malone said. “Take a goddamn breath.”

“I’m breathing just fine, Captain. We’re doing everything we can to get to the bottom of what happened that night, but I don’t yet have the answers we all want and need. I wish I did.” He paused before he added, “You should know, myself and a couple of my guys have been receiving death threats. We suspect they’re coming from the other members of Springer’s posse who’re still in the wind after the investigation went to shit.”

Farnsworth’s face looked like it had been carved from stone as everyone waited to hear what he would say. “How long have you been receiving death threats?”

“Almost from the beginning.”

“And you’re just now mentioning them?”

“We know how to take care of ourselves, Chief. We’re not looking to make it into a bigger deal than it already is. These guys aren’t going to show their faces in this city again anytime soon. They know we’re looking for them.”

“I want a full report, with details and specifics, about each of the death threats, as well as who has received them, by the end of the day,” Conklin said.

“Yes, sir,” McDonald replied.

Despite her antagonism, Sam felt for the guy. She’d had a long-term undercover investigation go south on her once. Sometimes she still had nightmares about Marquis Johnson’s agonizing screams after his young son Quentin was shot during a raid she’d led at a crack house. Quentin wasn’t supposed to be there. The fact he was there that night still weighed on Sam more than a year later.

“I think you ought to make a statement,” Sam said to the chief, surprising herself as much as the others. “You need to come clean about what happened that night and why, let them know we’re continuing our internal investigation and we understand and sympathize with Mr. Springer’s grief over the loss of his sons. You could update the press on Detective Gonzales’s condition as he continues to recover from the shot to his neck by Billy Springer, who was implicated in the murders of his brother and eight other teenagers, which would be a great way to remind them that a decorated officer was nearly killed by Mr. Springer’s sainted son.” When she realized all eyes were on her, Sam swallowed hard before continuing. “We haven’t said a word about what happened that day since that day. It might be time for an update. Sir.”

After a long pause, Farnsworth said, “What does everyone think?”

“I agree with Lieutenant Holland,” Malone said. “Springer has had the microphone and the spotlight on him for weeks now. Let’s retake control of the story. You could do the press conference and go on some of the radio and TV talk shows and just be honest. Tell them we’re investigating what went wrong and hoping to provide some answers for the Springer family, as well as the community as a whole.”

“I’d want to consult with Public Affairs,” Farnsworth said.

“I’ll get someone down here.” Conklin got up and left the room.

“I also need to clear it with the mayor. She’s been on my ass over this for weeks now.”

“Why don’t you see if she’d be willing to attend the press briefing?” Sam said. “To show her support for her embattled police chief.”