Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(58)

“Have you spoken to everyone who was on the scene of the shooting? Every first responder?”

“Not yet.”

“Let’s do that. Let’s find someone else who can put Conklin at the scene.”

“We’ll get on that today.” Joe paused before asking the question that filled him with dread. “What do you see happening here?”

“If he had this information for four years and didn’t share it with anyone, at the very least we’ll charge him with impeding an investigation.”

“Could I ask a favor?”

“You can ask.”

“May I request that you handle this personally for now?”

“I’ll handle it personally for as long as I can. If there’s another witness able to put him at the scene, I’m going to want the investigation turned over to the FBI to keep it clean for you and your department. Agreed?”

As much as it rankled to turn anything over to the FBI, Joe knew he had no choice in this case. “Agreed. I’ll put some people on it today and get back to you.”

“Keep Lieutenant Holland far away from this, Joe. If this turns out to be something, the last thing we’ll need is a massive conflict of interest.”

“Understood. Captain Jake Malone will handle it personally.”

“Great. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

Joe stood and reached across the desk to shake Forrester’s hand. “Appreciate your time on this.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you’re dealing with this on top of the loss of a close friend.”

“It’s been a hell of a week.”

“My condolences. Skip was one of the good guys.”

“Indeed he was. We’ll miss him, and we’re determined to finally get justice for him, no matter where it may lead.”

“Understood. Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

Joe left the USA’s office and decided to make another stop on his way back to HQ. He’d thought about this during the night and had concluded that this was a conversation he needed to have, even if it was a risk. Retired Captain Kenneth Wallack had come up through the ranks with him, Skip, Conklin and Malone. They’d attended the academy together and had known each other for decades.

Recently, Wallack, a decorated sharpshooter, had been kidnapped by his former stepson and forced at gunpoint to kill innocent people in the drive-by shootings. The stepson had threatened to rape and kill Wallack’s new wife, and Wallack had done what he had to in order to protect her.

Joe hadn’t spoken to Wallack personally since then, but others had seen him. By all accounts, Wallack was a broken man in the aftermath of killing six innocent people, including a young girl. Wallack was another close friend of Conklin’s and for two weeks after Wallack’s wife reported him missing to Conklin, the deputy chief had sat on the info while he investigated personally. His excuse then had been that he feared Wallack, a recovering alcoholic, had fallen off the wagon, and he’d held the info in an effort to protect a decorated officer.

Joe had called bullshit on that and had suspended Conklin for a week. In the nearly four years Conklin had been his top deputy, that had been the only time he’d ever questioned his judgment or his integrity. Had he been a fool to trust Conklin for all these years? He liked to think he was a good judge of character, and until the Wallack incident, Conklin had never put off any vibes that he couldn’t be trusted. Granted, Joe didn’t trust Conklin on the same level he’d trusted Skip and Jake, but he had put considerable faith in Conklin as the department’s second in command.

Joe had come up through the ranks with his eye always on the top job, and he loved being chief. Most of the time. The men and women of the Metro PD did a difficult, often dangerous job that most people weren’t equipped to do. Being part of the brother-and-sisterhood that made up the thin blue line had been the second greatest honor of Joe’s life, second only to being Marti’s husband. The possibility that his number two officer and longtime friend could be crooked or corrupt made Joe sick—physically and emotionally.

Wallack lived with his wife, Leslie, on Montana Avenue. Joe found a parking space a block away and walked the short distance to the clapboard townhouse. He went up the stairs and rang the bell.

Looking tired and frazzled, Leslie answered the door. Upon quick glance, he deduced she was in her late fifties or early sixties, with graying blond hair and dark circles under hazel eyes. Joe had met her a couple of times at retiree events but didn’t know her well. He only knew that after a difficult first marriage, Wallack was happy with her. Leslie’s expression conveyed surprise to find the chief on her doorstep.

She opened the storm door.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I wondered if Kenny might be up for a visit.”

“I’m sure he’d love to see you, but…” When she looked up at him, tears made her eyes shiny. “He’s so ashamed. I worry all the time that he’s not going to be able to live with it.”

Joe stepped into the house. “He’s been seeing Dr. Trulo?”

“Almost daily. He’s been so good to both of us. So many people have been. I just don’t know if it’ll be enough for Kenny. He’s tortured by nightmares, and he cries a lot.”

“I’m not here to make anything worse.”