Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(90)

Hill glared at her. “Explain.”

Sam took them through the information she’d uncovered that morning, including the photo of Coyne providing security for Gallagher’s first campaign—something Coyne’s wife hadn’t known he was doing. She told them about the money that had “appeared” twice—once before Steven died and again after. “Coyne’s wife said he was stressed out about something in the weeks before he died. He told her work was getting to him. She sensed it was more than that but couldn’t get him to tell her what was bothering him.”

“I’m not seeing a solid connection to Gallagher,” Hill said, “and if we’re going to accuse a well-respected member of the District’s government of being involved with possibly two police officers’ murders, we’d better have it nailed down before it gets out that we’re looking at him.”

“He’s right,” Farnsworth said. “The last thing I need right now with my deputy chief implicated is a shaky connection to a powerful council member who’d have my job—and yours—so fast our heads would spin. Nothing you’ve uncovered would lead to motive for him to take out two police officers.”

“Roll with me for a minute here.” Sam felt the buzz she often got from knowing she was onto something. “What if Coyne was working for Gallagher under the table to make ends meet? He didn’t tell his wife because he doesn’t want to concern her with their financial situation. What if, while working for Gallagher, he uncovers something that gets him killed. And then, what if, with retirement looming, Skip decides to take another look at the unsolved shooting of his first partner and close friend, wanting to wrap that up before he leaves the job? He checked out the Coyne files, which were never returned, and was nearly killed a week later. You going to tell me that’s a coincidence?”

Malone shook his head. “We don’t believe in coincidences around here.”

“The alternative to investigating Gallagher,” Faith said tentatively, “is to let Conklin make the case against whomever the big fish turns out to be, and then we’ll know exactly who we should be looking at.”

The group met the suggestion with total silence.

“It’s going to be your call,” Hill said to Farnsworth. “If you cut a deal with Conklin to get someone bigger, you’re going to have to be able to live with Conklin doing less time than he deserves.”

“I don’t want to see him spend one day less than exactly what he deserves behind bars,” Farnsworth said fiercely. “Let’s see if we can make a case against Gallagher before we consider dealing with Conklin. I’ve learned to trust the lieutenant’s feelings on these things. They’re rarely wrong.”

“Um, they’re never wrong,” Sam said, earning a glare from her chief.

Malone coughed, possibly to cover a laugh.

“I don’t want anyone outside the people in this room knowing we’re looking at Gallagher,” Farnsworth said. “Unless we have him locked and loaded, no one will ever know we investigated him. Am I clear on that?”

“Crystal,” Sam said.

The others murmured their agreement.

“I’ll need to inform Tom,” Faith said of the U.S. Attorney.

“Only him,” Farnsworth said. “No one else.”

“Understood,” Faith said.

“Everything you do is on deep background,” Farnsworth said to Sam. “Malone’s name is on anything that requires a paper trail.”

Sam nodded.

“If this leads in the direction of Gallagher, it’ll be nuclear for us,” Farnsworth said. “There’s absolutely no room for error.”

“There won’t be any errors,” Sam said.

A knock on the door seemed to startle everyone in the room, as if they feared it might be Gallagher himself on the other side of the door.

Faith, who was standing closest to the door, opened it to Freddie, whose eyes bugged when he saw how many people were in the small office—and who they were.

Sam leaned around the others so he could see her. “What’s up, Detective?”

“Frank Davis was just found murdered in his apartment.”



* * *



SAM ACCOMPANIED CRUZ, Green and McBride to Davis’s apartment, where they found the older man on the floor inside his front door, dead from a single gunshot wound to the forehead.

Cruz examined the door. “No sign of forced entry.”

Green squatted for a closer look at the body. “Which means it was someone he knew or recognized.”

“Who called it in?” Sam asked.

“His daughter,” McBride said. “She’s next door with his neighbor, who was also his friend.”

Sam glanced at Freddie. “Let’s go talk to them.”

The door to the neighbor’s apartment was propped open but Sam knocked anyway. While she waited, she took a look around for security cameras in the hallway but didn’t see any. Many of the older buildings weren’t wired for cameras the way the new ones were.

“Come in.”

They found two women seated on a sofa. One had white hair and a sweet face lined with wrinkles and eyes filled with tears. She comforted a younger blonde woman, whose face was buried in her hands.