Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(40)
While she was physically present with her family, her mind was still on the situation with Conklin as she wondered if she would hear from the chief tonight.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE FIRST THING Joe Farnsworth did when he parted with Holland and Cruz was call Jake Malone. “Where are you?”
“Almost home. What’s up?”
“I need to see you right away.”
“Everything okay?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Ah, fuck. What now? You want me to come back to HQ?”
“Meet me at my place in twenty?”
“I’ll be there.”
As he drove home, Joe took a call from Marti. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi there. I’m leaving for a meeting at church, but I left dinner in the oven for you. It’s on low, but if you leave it there too long it won’t be any good.”
“I’m on my way.”
“All right. I’ll be home by eight.”
“See you then. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He told himself that no matter what kind of shit show was about to blow up around him and his department, he would still have her, and she made everything bearable. When he arrived at home, he saw Malone waiting for him on the porch, illuminated by the glow of the light Marti had left on for him.
Joe got out of his SUV and went up to the porch.
Malone eyed him warily. “What fresh hell is upon us now?”
“Holland and Cruz followed up on a lead called into the tip line from a guy named Frank Davis. Ring any bells?”
“Nope. Should it?”
“Apparently, he was on G Street at the time of Skip’s shooting and gave a detailed statement to Conklin the same day.”
Malone tipped his head as if he hadn’t heard the words correctly. “He gave a statement to Conklin.”
“That’s what he told Holland and Cruz. To be sure, they showed him the page of department leadership from the website, and he identified Conklin as the officer who’d taken his statement. Apparently, Davis rendered aid to Skip after the shooting and perhaps saved his life by putting pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrived.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“You have no idea how much I wish I was.” Joe sighed. He should’ve retired years ago. Then this latest nightmare wouldn’t be his problem.
“Did Davis see the shooter or the car?”
“No. He only remembers seeing the cop car pull over another car, but he had moved past them when he heard the shot.”
“Jesus.”
“First Wallack and now this. What else is there?”
“I don’t even want to know.” Crossing his arms, Jake looked at Joe. “What’re we going to do about this?”
Joe expected nothing less of the colleague and friend who always had his back. “We need to go talk to him.” Joe needed someone there to witness whatever transpired, and he trusted Jake to help him navigate this situation.
Jake checked his watch. “He’s probably home by now.”
“Let me go turn off the oven and then we can go.” Dinner would have to wait.
Twenty minutes later, they crossed the 14th Street Bridge in bumper-to-bumper late-day traffic on the way to Conklin’s home in Alexandria. Normally they’d be talking sports or politics, but today they coexisted in tense silence. It took forty-five minutes to make the five-mile trip.
“What’s our plan?” Jake asked when they pulled into a guest spot in the condo complex.
“Let’s ask him to come out and talk, so we can’t be overheard.” Conklin was remarried, but none of them knew his second wife that well. She didn’t often socialize with them.
“I’ll do that,” Jake said.
While Joe stood next to the car, Jake went up the stairs to the front door and rang the bell. A minute later, the inside door swung open. Conklin seemed surprised to see Jake. He pushed opened the storm door.
“Can we talk?” Jake gestured to where Joe waited. “Out here?”
Conklin glanced at Joe and then at Jake. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Let me grab a coat.”
Jake came down the stairs and joined Joe at the car.
Conklin joined them a minute later. “What’s going on?”
Joe took the lead. “We’ve been following up on some info that came into the tip line after Skip died. Does the name Frank Davis mean anything to you?”
Conklin thought about that for a second. “No. Should it?”
“He claims he was on G Street the day Skip was shot, rendered aid to him in the aftermath of the shooting and gave a statement to you that we have no record of.”
“He said he talked to me?”
“He named you and picked you out of photos of the department’s top leadership.”
“I never talked to anyone on G Street that day. I wasn’t even there. I went to the hospital after I got the call about the shooting.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m positive. I was at HQ when the officer-down call came in, and I went straight to the GW ER.” His stance took a defensive edge. “You really thought I’d keep something like this to myself for four years? Just because I didn’t tell you about Wallack? Skip was my friend. He saved my life and my career once upon a time.”