“Yeah.” He rattled off his address and phone number, which she recorded in her notebook.
“I’ll be in touch with you as soon as we know anything more, and I’ll ask the Medical Examiner to let you know when Melody will be released to the funeral home of your choice.”
At the mention of funeral homes, his sister buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Her poor husband stood beside them, seeming unsure of what he should do.
Sam wanted to tell him there was nothing he could do other than be there for them, but she held her tongue. They would figure it out the same way everyone else did when their lives were permanently altered by violence. She handed Joe her business card. “If I can do anything for you, day or night, my cell number is on the card. Feel free to use it.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“Officer Beckett will see you home.” She signaled to Beckett. “Please make sure Mr. Kramer and his family get home safely.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Before he left with Beckett, Joe took a long last look back at the cloth-covered body of his wife, his despair palpable. Only when his sister tugged on his arm, urging him to move, did he finally tear his gaze off his wife and begin to put one foot in front of the other toward a suddenly uncertain future.
Undone by his grief, Sam bent at the waist, hands on her knees as she focused on trying to breathe. She appreciated that Freddie didn’t ask if she was okay or if he could do anything. Rather, he stood close by and let her do what she needed to.
After she’d gotten herself together, she stood to her full height and looked at Freddie. “Let’s find these motherfuckers.”
THEY RETURNED TO HQ, where Captain Malone met them in the lobby. “I came in when I heard about the second shooting. The chief is here too. Come tell us what you’ve got.”
To Freddie, Sam said, “Go see if Archie was able to get anything from the video feeds from the Kramer shooting.”
“Will do.”
Sam went with Malone past the Dispatch area to the chief’s office where Joe Farnsworth, known affectionately to Sam and her sisters as “Uncle Joe” when they were growing up, nodded to her. He was one of her father’s closest friends and one of Sam’s greatest supporters.
The chief was on a testy-sounding phone call. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I understand. We feel the same way. Believe me.” He held the phone away from his ear, and Sam could hear the woman talking on the other end but not what she was saying. “Of course I’ll keep you posted. Lieutenant Holland is here now, back from the scene of both shootings.” Another pause. “Yes, we’ll brief the media and let people know what’s happened. We’re doing everything we always do when there’s a homicide in our city.”
After another full minute of listening, he managed to extricate himself from the phone call. “She drives me crazy.”
“I assume that’s our esteemed mayor,” Malone said.
“You assume correctly.” To Sam, Farnsworth said, “Welcome back. I hope you had a nice vacation.”
“We did.”
“Glad to hear it. What’ve we got on the drive-bys?”
Sam filled him in on the details of both shootings.
“Ugh, a kid and a pregnant woman.” Farnsworth sagged into his chair. “What’s your gut telling you, Lieutenant?”
“That we’re looking at random thrill kills, but we’ll dig into the vics to make sure.”
Farnsworth nodded in agreement with her plan. “I hate stuff like this. Hell, I hate all of it.”
“It does keep us in business,” Sam said, going for a moment of levity.
“There is that,” Farnsworth said with a small smile. “How’s your husband doing?”
“He’s great. Never been better.”
“I believe there’s a certain level of denial going on in the Cappuano household,” Malone said to Farnsworth.
“It goes something like this,” Sam said, placing her hands over her ears. “Lalalalalala.”
“Can you picture her as first lady?” Malone asked.
“Not even kinda,” Farnsworth said, “but then again, I couldn’t picture her as second lady either.”
“It’s the whole ‘lady’ part that gets me every time,” Malone said, rubbing his chin as he studied her.
“Very funny, boys,” Sam said, amused by their banter. “How about you spare me the agony of dealing with the media and handle the briefing for me?”
“You know they enjoy it so much more when it’s you, Lieutenant,” Malone said. “Besides, you were at the scene and have the firsthand information.”
“Fine, whatever. I’ll do it.”
“I’ll go out with you and take over if it strays into political territory,” Farnsworth said.
“Which it most definitely will,” Sam said. “They’re rabid for info about how we’re dealing with the Nelson fiasco.”
“Have you considered giving them a little something to feed the beast and get them off your backs?” Farnsworth asked.
“We would if we thought a little something would be enough for them,” Sam said. “We’ve decided to stay out of it for now.”
“I can understand that. It’s a tough situation no matter what you do.”
“Which is why we’re doing nothing but riding it out the best way we can until we know what’s going to happen. Let’s get this media briefing done so I can do some real work.”
“I hate to point out that briefing the media counts as real work,” Malone said.
“In my world, it counts as torture,” Sam said.
Farnsworth and Malone came with her as she walked out the main doors to where the usual swarm of reporters had multiplied in the twenty minutes she’d been inside. Word must’ve gotten out that she was back on the job. Awesome.
The reporters began shouting at her the minute she walked out the door. While that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, there was something about the way they came at her this time that caught her off guard. Nick was right. They were ravenous, and she was going to send them away still hungry.
She approached the granite podium that was a permanent installation outside headquarters, never more grateful for the aura of protection it provided than she was now. They continued to scream questions at her about Nick and Nelson and Nelson’s
