Fatal Chaos Read online

  Malone came into the room. “Simmons finally found someone willing to represent him in his latest visit to the MPD. He’ll be here in an hour or two.”

  “That’s something anyway,” Sam said.

  “I haven’t had much time to spend on the sharpshooter angle today,” Malone added.

  “I can pick that up from home later,” Jeannie said.

  “Appreciate that,” Sam said. “Cruz, you and I will talk to Joe Kramer one more time, and then come back to interview Simmons. Everyone else can call it a day.”

  “And you guys say I’m lucky to be her partner,” Freddie said, grinning at the others.

  “You’re blessed to be my partner.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “You’ll never hear me say otherwise.”

  “Keep digging your own grave, Cruz,” Gonzo said.

  “Thanks for a great first day, Detective Green,” Sam said. “Hopefully, you’ll decide to come back tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be here,” he said with an engaging grin as he left the room.

  Rush hour traffic made for a slow roll to Joe’s house. “The federal workforce is back from summer vacation,” Sam said.

  “Happens every year the day after Labor Day.”

  “I need to call Scotty to see how the first day of school went.” She made the call and put it on speaker while juggling the steering wheel.

  “If you had a thing called a smartphone,” Freddie said, “you could tell it to call Scotty for you without risking both our lives and the lives of everyone on the road with us.”

  “Good to know,” Sam said, glaring in his direction. “And PS, your passive-aggressiveness will be noted on your next eval.”

  “Was it passive? I didn’t intend it to be.”

  She choked back a laugh as Scotty answered his phone.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Hearing him call her that never got old. It was her favorite of her many titles. “Hi there. Freddie is here with me and we wanted to see how the first day went.”

  “They gave us homework! On the first freaking day!”

  Freddie rocked with silent laughter.

  “No more easing you into it, huh?” Sam asked.

  “No! They said they’ll be getting us ready for high school this year. And I thought middle school was bad. High school is gonna be awful!”

  Sam held back a burst of laughter that she knew he wouldn’t appreciate. “Was it fun to see your friends?”

  “Yeah, but we have all different lunches this year, so that kinda sucks.”

  “Any new kids this year?” Sam asked, trying to find something positive.

  “A couple. There’s this one girl, Annie, who seems nice. She moved here from California over the summer. At first, she was all weirded out by being in class with the vice president’s son. I told her we don’t make a big deal of it, and she seemed cool with it. She’s in my algebra class and is really good at it. She said she’d help me out.”

  “That’s a good friend to have.”

  “I know! That’s what I told her.”

  “Is Dad home yet?”

  “Not yet, but he texted to say he’s on the way soon. I’m going over to Grandpa Skip’s house. He wants to know how school was.”

  “I’ll be home in a little while. I’ll see you then.”

  “Okay. Thanks for calling.”

  Sam closed the phone. “Can I laugh now?”

  “Better now than when he can hear you.”

  “It’s so funny to me how he’s so much like me in some ways and so much like Nick in others. I used to go into a deep, dark funk on the first day of school. Dyslexia made my life a living hell, but of course no one really knew what it was back then. I feel his pain.”

  “He’s so damned cute. I wouldn’t be able to hold it together if my kid was saying that kind of stuff. Another reason why I probably shouldn’t have kids.”

  “We already talked about that. You are having kids, and that’s the end of it.”

  “Um, by the way… In case you don’t already know this, you’re my boss at work. You’re not the boss of the rest of my life.”

  “Where the hell did you get that idea? I am the boss of you. Period. You’re having kids. That subject is closed.”

  “You’re completely out of control.”

  “You say that like this is news to you or something.”

  He busted up laughing. “You are entertaining to have around. I’ll give you that.”

  “I do what I can for the people.”

  “That thing with Ramsey was intense.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay? I mean, he said some crappy shit—”

  “I’m fine. He doesn’t bother me. I’m used to him and his crappy shit.”

  “You really think he’s going to sue you?”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “All this because he’s jealous of your career. It’s ridiculous.”

  “It is what it is. Let’s not give him any more of our time. It’s just what he wants.”

  “What’re we going to say to Joe Kramer?” he asked.

  “I was just about to ask what you had planned.”

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

  “Because I’m nothing if not predictable.”

  “That is true. I guess I’ll ask him why he didn’t tell us about the quarter-million-dollar debt and ask if there’s more that wouldn’t show up on a run of financials. I’ll let him know it’s in his best interest to tell us now rather than letting us figure it out for ourselves.”

  “Make sure you mention how we hate when people waste our time. Two trips to his house in this traffic is a huge waste of our time. In fact, you can start with that.”

  “Got it.”

  With Freddie occupied with his phone, Sam pressed a button on hers to make it ring. “Holland.” She pretended to listen. “No, I said midget strippers. There’s a big difference. I want the little people.” She paused, glanced at Freddie and said, “I don’t know. Let me ask him.” Holding the phone to one side, she said, “You’re not allergic to latex are you?”

  The look he gave her would’ve killed a lesser person.

  Sam wanted to howl with laughter, but somehow managed to maintain her composure. “He’s good with latex. Yes, this Saturday at ten. Don’t let me down.” As she slapped the phone closed, it took everything she had to maintain her composure while she counted down to herself—five, four, three, two—

  “Are you freaking kidding me, Sam? Midget strippers? And what the hell are you doing with latex?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the vein in his forehead bulging and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from losing her shit. “Mind your own business.”

  “I swear to God…”

  “Please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, young Freddie. You’ll go straight to hell.”

  “I’d rather go to hell than this party you’re having. In fact, count me out.”

  “You’ll be there.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “We’ll see about that. And P.S., the word midget is not acceptable, as you’d know if you’d ever attended required sensitivity training.”

  “I’m not calling them that. The strippers call themselves that.”

  “I can’t believe we’re even talking about such a thing.”

  “Really? You can’t?”

  He shook his head and released a deep sigh.

  Sam had to fight the urge to laugh hysterically at his distress.

  They arrived at the Kramer residence a short time later and had to double-park.

  “Let’s make this quick before some overeager Patrol officer gets a big idea to ruin his career by towing my car,” Sam said.

  Still fuming at
her, Freddie knocked on the door.

  Kramer’s sister, Sarah, answered.

  “Have you found the person who killed Mel?” she asked when she let them in.

  “Not yet,” Freddie said, “but we wondered if we could have another word with Joe.”

  “He said you were here earlier.”

  “Right,” Freddie replied. “We have a few loose ends to tie up.”

  “He’s lying down. He hasn’t slept since… Does it have to be now?”

  “Yeah, it does,” Freddie said.

  “I’ll go get him. You can wait in the front room.”

  Rather than sit like they had before, they remained standing until Joe Kramer appeared with his sister trailing behind him a few minutes later.

  “Could we speak to you alone?” Freddie asked.

  “I don’t mind if Sarah is here.”

  Freddie glanced at Sam, who nodded, encouraging him to go ahead with it.

  “We know this is a difficult time for you, sir,” Freddie said, “but one thing that really irritates us is when people waste our time.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Freddie handed him the printout that detailed his debts.

  Joe glanced at it and visibly sagged.

  “What is it, Joe?”

  He ignored his sister’s question. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “The fact that you’re deeply in debt is something you should’ve revealed to us when we asked if there was anything else material to the investigation that you thought we ought to know,” Freddie said.

  “Debt?” Sarah asked. “What kind of debt?”

  “I took some of the money we’d saved for a house to buy into a business opportunity,” he told her. “I wasn’t going to say anything about it until the investment paid off.”

  “We need the details of the business opportunity.” Freddie held out his notebook and a pen. “Including the names and phone numbers of everyone involved.”

  Joe’s complexion drained of color. “You’re not going to talk to them, are you?”

  “Is there any particular reason why you wouldn’t want us to?”

  “They’re working on a top-secret defense project.” When his legs seemed to fail him, he sat down hard on the sofa. “If I send cops to them, they’ll cut me out, and I’ll never get back my investment.”

  “We’ll let them know you didn’t have a choice,” Freddie said. “Start writing, and don’t leave anything out. If there’re other debts besides the ones listed on that sheet, write them down. If we have to come back here again because we find out something else you didn’t tell us, you could face obstruction charges.”

  “The man just lost his wife,” Sarah said testily. “Is it really necessary to speak to him this way?”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Freddie said. “Did your wife know about the investment?”

  “No, she didn’t. I wanted to come back to her with a windfall. She was so stressed out about how much the fertility treatments cost. I wanted to do something to make her happy.” He looked up at them, his eyes filled with heartbreak. “You don’t think something I did got her killed, do you?”

  “We have no way to know that until we investigate further,” Freddie said. “The sooner you tell us what we need to know, the sooner we can get to it.”

  “How did these people find you?” Sam asked.

  “Through one of my colleagues at work. Friend of a friend.”

  “Write down the colleague’s name too,” Sam said.

  It took about fifteen tearful minutes for him to finish the list and hand the notebook back to Freddie.

  “I’m only going to ask this once,” Freddie said. “Is there anything else we should know about your life or Melody’s? Anything at all?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s it. Y-you’ll let me know what you find out?”

  “We will.”

  “What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Do I act like I haven’t set the cops on them?”

  Sarah sat next to him and put her arm around him.

  He leaned into her.

  “Don’t say a word to them about us,” Sam said. “If you do, that too could result in an obstruction charge.”

  “If something I did got her killed…” He shook his head. “How will I live with that?”

  “Nothing you did caused this,” Sarah said. “You loved her. Everyone knew that.”

  He dropped his head into his hands and began to sob.

  “We’ll see ourselves out,” Freddie said. “Stay local in case we need to get in touch.”

  “Where else would I go?” he asked.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “THAT WAS BRUTAL,” Freddie said when they were outside.

  “I still feel sorry for the guy even though he wasted our time.”

  “Me too.”

  “Call Malone and have him run the names Kramer gave us.”

  While Freddie did that, Sam drove them back to HQ so they could interview Simmons.

  “He’s on it,” Freddie said when he ended the call with the captain.

  “I feel like we’re spinning our wheels.”

  “I do too. You think anything will come of the info from Kramer?”

  “Probably not. It could be a legit opportunity that had nothing at all to do with his wife being killed. I mean, think about it. He gave them money for their top-secret project. What would be the motive in taking out his wife and three other innocent people? There isn’t one.”

  “But we’re still going to follow up, right?”

  “Yep, but mark my words, it won’t lead us anywhere.”

  They returned to HQ and went straight to the interrogation room where Simmons and his attorney were waiting.

  “How’re we going to play this?” Freddie asked.

  “I’ll take the lead. I want to get the hell out of here.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Sam walked in first with Freddie following and introduced herself and her partner to the young dark-haired woman who sat next to a surly-looking Trace Simmons.

  “I’m Mary Beth Phillips from the public defender’s office.”

  She didn’t look old enough to be out of high school, let alone law school, Sam thought as she took a seat across the table from them while Freddie remained standing by the door.

  “Talk to me about Tamara Jackson,” Sam said.

  Simmons’s eyes bugged. “What about her?”

  “You heard her brother was killed in a drive-by shooting?”

  “Is that what this is about? You think I had something to do with that? I would never do anything to hurt her. I love her. She’s one of the few good things in my miserable fucking life.”

  Sam looked on in stunned amazement as tears filled his eyes. “She said you threatened her, slapped her and said nasty crap about her mother.”

  “I swear to God,” he said in a hushed voice. “It wasn’t me.”

  Strangely enough, Sam believed him. “Have you heard any rumblings on the street about who might’ve been behind the shootings?”

  “Nah, I ain’t heard nothing about it.”

  “If we release you and you hear something, I’ll expect you to let me know.” Sam slid her card across the table to him. “Understand?”

  “Yeah, I got ya. Can I go now?”

  Sam stared at him for a long moment, hoping she was doing the right thing by trusting her gut. “We’re good on this, but there were drugs found at the house.”

  He threw up his hands. “They ain’t mine.”

  “Then that means they’re your sister’s?”

  “I know nothing about no drugs.”

  “You can expect to hear from my colleagues about that.”

  “They
know where to find me.” Without another word to Sam or his attorney, he got up and left the room.

  Mary Beth seemed to sag from relief, or that was how it appeared to Sam.

  “How’d a nice girl like you end up defending guys like him?” Sam asked her.

  “Someone’s got to do it. Why not me?”

  Impressed by her sassy comeback, Sam said, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around campus.”

  “I guess you will. And for what it’s worth, I’m a big fan of your work—and your husband.”

  “Thank you.” Sam never knew what to say to comments like that.

  Mary Beth took off down the hallway, and Sam turned to Freddie. “I hope I did the right thing there.”

  “For what it’s worth, I believed him too.”

  “It’s worth a lot.”

  Malone joined them. “Simmons was a dead end?”

  Sam nodded. “He seemed genuinely shocked that we suspected him. Said he loves Tamara Jackson, that she’s one of the few good things in his life, and he’d never do anything to hurt her. We both believed him and told him he’d be hearing more about the drugs that were found in his house. He says they aren’t his, so we need to look at the sister for that.”

  The captain sighed and ran his fingers through his wiry gray hair. “That takes us back to square one. Nothing popped on any of the names you got from Joe Kramer. What’s your feeling on that angle?”

  “As I said to Detective Cruz, what would be the motive? He invested in their project. Why would that lead to his wife and three other innocent people being gunned down?”

  “I can’t see how it would,” Malone said.

  “Let’s see what Jeannie finds tonight on former and current military and law enforcement sharpshooters in the area,” Sam said. “The one thing that stands out to me is the skill it would take to shoot someone with such deadly accuracy while traveling at a high rate of speed. We need to find out who would have those skills.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I’ll have Carlucci and Dominguez pick up that angle from McBride overnight and see where we are in the morning,” Sam said. To Cruz, she added, “Write up the reports and call it a day, Detective.”

  “Do you mind if I report from home?”

  “Not at all.”