by Marie Force
“Looks like.” She headed for the conference room, determined to ignore him and the weirdness that lingered between them to focus on the job.
“Lieutenant,” Jeannie McBride called from the pit.
“What’s up?”
“They found Vasquez’s car—or what’s left of it.”
“Where?”
“On New York Avenue. IT got a hit on his cell phone that led to the car. It’s been pretty well picked over apparently.”
Great, Sam thought. “Let’s get CSU up there to process it. Do they have it roped off?”
“Yes, I asked.”
“Go on up there and keep an eye on things. I don’t want any mistakes.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it.”
“Take Tyrone with you,” Sam said, referring to Jeannie’s partner.
Sam went into the conference room and headed directly to the dry-erase board where she tacked up photos of Willie in his uniform and the photos from the Dumpster as well as the autopsy pictures. She was well into detailing the timeline when people began filing in. Detectives Gonzales and Arnold were there along with Assistant U.S. Attorney Charity Miller. Her stilettos clicked on the tile floor as she came into the room.
Sam nodded to the prosecutor who was also a friend. “Welcome, Ms. Miller.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Just looking for an update.”
“Me too,” Chief Farnsworth said as he came in with Captain Malone.
“Gonzo, go,” Sam said.
“I met with James Settle, the general manager of WFBR, and Big Ben Markinson, the morning on-air guy who was inciting a verbal riot on the airwaves yesterday morning. He gave me a list of people who were particularly enraged, but a lot of them are first names, so it’s going to be hard to track them down.”
“See what you can do, but don’t spend too much time on it.” She turned to Hill. “You can go ahead and brief on what you did yesterday.”
“After the lieutenant and I met with team owner Ray Jestings, manager Bob Minor, and the trainer Jamie Clark, I went by myself to meet with general manager Garrett Collins at his home on Sixth Street.” Avery told them about the condition of Collins’s home and the info they later uncovered about his financial situation.
“The financials lead us to believe he had more than just a professional stake in the game,” Sam added. “Detectives Carlucci and Dominguez have gone to bring him in for a more in-depth conversation.”
“I went over the financial reports for Minor and Clark,” Gonzo said. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary on either.”
“How about Vasquez?” Sam asked.
“Still waiting on the banks in the D.R. to get back to us.”
Sam glanced at the chief. “Who do we know who would have some sway there?”
“I might be able to help with that. I’ll talk to Forrester,” Charity said, referring to the U.S. Attorney.
“Let me know,” Sam said.
“I also met with Hugh Bixby, the team’s security director,” Avery said. “He mentioned Willie’s brother-in-law, who he was apparently having some sort of issue with. There was a restraining order in place to keep the brother-in-law away from the stadium. I’ve got my deputy working on that.”
“The brother-in-law in question is Marco Peña,” Sam said, making a note about the restraining order. “I’ll have Carmen fill us in on what was going on there. We’ll see her when we’re done here.”
“Shouldn’t the team’s security director know the name of someone who has been legally barred from having contact with one of the players?” Gonzo asked.
“I got the sense from Bixby that there’s a lot of drama among the players with women,” Avery said. “He made a comment about how tracking the players’ romantic exploits would take an army. Perhaps there are dozens of restraining orders in place, which is why he couldn’t recall the brother-in-law’s name.”
“I could look into the other ROs related to the team,” Malone said.
“That would help, thanks,” Sam said as another thought occurred to her. She went to the phone on the wall and dialed an internal extension. “Hey, Archie, thanks for the help with finding Vasquez’s phone. You didn’t happen to do a dump on it, did you?”
“I sure did. I was just going to bring it down to you.”
“Excellent,” Sam said. “Thanks. While I have you, I could use some people reviewing security film today. We’re looking for any sign of Willie’s Lincoln MKZ or the man himself. We’re still in need of a murder scene, and we’re tracing his steps over a wide swath of the city. Can you spare anyone?”
“Send up the film, and I’ll put all my available people on it.”
“You’re the best. Thanks again.” She hung up and returned to her place at the head of the conference table. “I love working with people who think one step ahead. Archie dumped Willie’s phone and is bringing us the data.” To Detective Arnold, she said, “I want you on that today, and get all the remaining video footage that Dominguez and Carlucci didn’t get to up to IT. They’ll be taking over.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Gonzo, I want you to get with patrol and find me a crime scene. Willie was killed somewhere between L’Enfant Plaza and Georgetown. See what you can do to move that along.”
“Will do.”
“I wanted to mention a couple of other things Bixby’s people brought to my attention,” Hill said. “I already told the Lieutenant that Rick Lind bears looking into. He was furious with Vasquez, busting furniture in the locker room, slamming doors. He said if he had a gun he’d shoot Vasquez himself. Bixby also mentioned that Cecil Mulroney was particularly vocal about his displeasure with Vasquez. The other thing the security guys told me is that everyone suspected a more-than-professional relationship between Vasquez and Clark, the trainer, but no one did anything about it.”
“I’d think that would be a boatload of bad PR for Willie and the team if it came out that he was fooling around with his trainer,” Farnsworth said.
“My thoughts exactly,” Hill replied. “Willie had a reputation as a hardworking family man, and an affair would kill his image, not to mention his endorsement deals.”
“Speaking of endorsement deals,” Sam said, “we need to look at what companies he was working with and what a colossal fuckup on the field would do to those deals. When I talk to Carmen, I’ll find out who his agent and manager were. We also need to have a more in-depth conversation with Ms. Clark about the true nature of her relationship with Vasquez. Maybe if we can get her alone without her bosses outside the door she’ll be more forthcoming. But first, I’d like to go back to Ray Jestings and find out whether the alleged affair was common knowledge at his level. If it was, I want to know why he didn’t do anything about it—and I want to know why he didn’t mention it yesterday.”
“I’d like to know that too,” Hill said.
“We’ll go there first.”
* * *
Nick had breakfast with Scotty but let Shelby take him to school so he wouldn’t be late for his nine o’clock meeting with the Democratic caucus. Scotty had been a little better but not quite back to his usual self.
He hoped Scotty would shake off the despair over Willie’s murder in a couple of days, but he worried the incident had triggered the boy’s memories of the dark days that followed the deaths of his mother and grandfather. He planned to call Scotty’s former guardian, Mrs. Littlefield, at some point during the day to see what she thought of the situation.
Nick walked into his office at eight thirty and found Christina and Terry waiting for him, both looking grim.
“What’s up?” he asked as he dropped his bag on top of the desk that had once belonged to John O’Connor.
“We’ve got a little problem,” Christina began.
“It’s a big problem,” Terry said, launching into a detailed explanation of Lexicore’s connection to the factory in Thailand where all the women were killed last summer.
“What’s that g
ot to do with me?” Nick asked.
“Remember when you asked my dad to invest the money John left to you?”
All at once, Nick figured out where this was going, and his stomach turned with dismay. He sank into his desk chair as he tried to process the overwhelming implications. He owned a piece of the company that in turn owned the factory where more than three hundred women had died in a fire while working under deplorable conditions. “Christ,” he muttered.
“My dad is on his way in,” Terry said. “He’s beside himself. He had no idea that Lex was tied to that factory until it was in the paper this morning. According to Trevor,” Terry said of their communications director, “Twitter is going crazy over the fact that Lexicore has been tied to the factory. Lexicore and Thailand are both trending at the moment.”
“What’ll happen when my name is tied to Lexicore?” Nick asked, not wanting to think of the campaign, his reputation or his rising star in the party when so many lives had been lost. But how could he not think about those things two short weeks before the election?
“I wish I knew,” Terry said. “The good news, if there is good news, is that I suspect the tie to the factory in Thailand is going to come as a surprise to most of Lexicore’s investors.”
“First order of business is to unload the stock,” Nick said.
“You’ll take a huge financial hit if you do that,” Christina said. “The value has plummeted since the news broke this morning.”
“Who cares about the money? It’s lost to me either way. I’ve got to unload that stock before the press jumps all over me.”
“It might be too late for that,” Graham O’Connor said as he strode into Nick’s office looking frazzled. “This is all my fault, Nick. I had no idea Lexicore was into factories in Thailand. I failed in my due diligence on your behalf.”
“How much did you invest with Lexicore?” Terry asked his father.
“A million of Nick’s,” Graham said, seeming ashamed, “and a couple million of my own.”
The news hit Nick like a punch to the gut. Half the money John had left him might be gone.
“I’m so sorry, Nick,” Graham said, his voice wavering. “I’ll make it up to you. Somehow.”
“I don’t care about the money.” Nick hated seeing his good friend so upset. “That’s the least of my concerns. My first concern would be why a major U.S. corporation is allowing those kinds of conditions to exist in a factory it owns. My second question—and this is a distant second to the first one—is what’re we looking at politically?”
“It’s hard to say,” Terry said. “The way I see it, we’ve got a couple of options. You could take a mea culpa and get out ahead of the story. Say you had no idea that Lexicore was involved with the factory and say you dumped the stock as soon as you found out about it.”
“What’s my other option?”
“Say nothing. Maybe your name will never come up.”
Nick thought about both options and the potential fallout from each. His nature was to be honest and forthcoming in all his dealings, but if he admitted to the connection to Lexicore it could cost him the election. But if he didn’t admit it and the press caught wind of it, that could cost him the election too. A hell of a dilemma.
“Let me fall on the sword,” Graham said.
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
“I’ll issue a statement that you turned your inheritance over to me to manage for you, and you’ve been so busy that you totally trusted me to handle it. You knew nothing.”
“Doesn’t that make me look like sort of a dolt for not paying attention to what became of my money?”
“I could say that you were so upset by how you came to have the money that you didn’t want to know what I did with it.”
“Which is sort of true,” Nick said. Other than a quick glance at the monthly statements, he didn’t have anything to do with the management of the account.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Terry said.
“I don’t like the idea of you fighting my battles for me,” Nick said to Graham.
“I have nothing to lose.”
“Only your sterling reputation,” Nick reminded him.
“Eh,” Graham said with a shrug. “Who cares? I’m not running for anything, and you are.”
“I think Senator O’Connor’s idea is your best bet,” Christina said.
“I’m leaving tomorrow for a quick trip with the president,” Nick said. “If we go with Graham’s plan, let’s wait until I’m gone. If I’m out of the country with the president and unreachable, the story might die before it gets legs under it.”
“Good thinking,” Terry said. “We could say that we aren’t authorized to comment on the senator’s personal affairs.”
“Don’t use the word ‘affair,’” Graham said with a guffaw.
Nick laughed. “Yes, please think of a different word so you don’t get me in trouble with my wife.”
“Duly noted,” Terry said with the first hint of a smile since the tense conversation began.
“You really think this’ll work?” Nick asked Graham.
“I can’t think of a better idea.”
“Neither can I. All right, I’ll let you fall on the sword with my thanks.”
“Aw hell, I got you into this situation. I’ll get you out of it.”
Nick glanced at his watch. Ten minutes until he was due to the meeting.
“Could I have a moment alone, Senator?” Graham asked.
“Of course.” To Terry and Christina, Nick said, “Thanks, guys. Appreciate your input.”
After they left the room, Nick came around the desk to sit in the other visitor chair next to Graham. “What’s up?”
“I got a call from Thomas’s lawyer yesterday,” he said, referring to his grandson who was now in jail for killing his father, Senator John O’Connor.
“What’d he have to say?”
“Thomas wants to see me.”
“Oh. Wow. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine what he has to say to me. He blames me for everything. If I hadn’t forced his father to keep Thomas and his mother a secret none of this would’ve happened. Hell, I blame myself. Keeping them apart was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Graham. Those were different times. You did what you thought was right at the time.”
He glanced over at Nick, and for the first time, he looked like an old man. “I knew at the time that it wasn’t right to keep John from his child. I knew it, and I did it anyway because I was afraid—for myself and for him. I loved this job. I loved everything about it. I went too far to protect my career at the expense of the people I loved. John paid for my mistakes with his life.”
Nick leaned in to rest his hand on the other man’s forearm, “John paid for his own mistakes, not yours. Thomas was angry about his father cheating on his mother. That’s why he killed him.”
“But if I hadn’t forced John to live apart from Patricia, maybe they would’ve had a more normal life, and he wouldn’t have felt the need to cheat on her.”
“I don’t think—” Nick stopped himself, mindful of his respect for Graham and his desire to protect John’s legacy—always.
“What? Just say it. Whatever it is.”
Choosing his words carefully, Nick said, “I don’t think John had it in him to be monogamous with any woman, even Patricia.”
“Maybe so. I never understood how he became such a skirt-chaser. He wasn’t raised that way.”
“To me it always seemed like he was looking for something he just couldn’t find no matter how hard he searched.”
“He never found what you have with Sam or what I have with his mother. It makes me sad to think that he missed out on that.”
“He led a very full life, and he wouldn’t want you to be sad when you think of him.”
“I know. Still... When I think about how I threatened to disown him if he had anything to do with
them, it makes me sick. As if I ever could’ve actually disowned him.”
Nothing he could say would make Graham feel better about what was now ancient history. “What’ll you do about Thomas?”
“Go see him, I suppose. He is my grandson after all.”
“Want me to go with you?”
Graham visibly brightened. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would.”
“After the election,” Graham said. “Let’s get you safely reelected, and then we’ll see what he wants.”
“Sounds like a plan. I hate to say it, but the caucus is meeting at nine. I need to get going.”
Graham stood. “Can’t keep your colleagues waiting.” He rested a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I’ll get you out of this Lexicore mess and get your money back.”
“Don’t sweat the money. Being a millionaire wasn’t as much fun as it would’ve been with John around to help me spend the dough.”
Graham smiled. “I’ll be having a conversation with my broker about this entire situation. I’ll make sure the rest of your money is safe and sound, but I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to cut me out of the loop.”
“That’s not happening, so don’t even talk about it.”
“Where’re you going with the president?”
“Can’t tell ya,” Nick said with a smile.
“Ahh, well, I can use my imagination to figure out your most likely destination, so I’ll just say be safe, Godspeed and God bless.”
“Thank you.” Nick hugged him. “Take care and give my love to Laine.”
“Will do.”
* * *
Sam allowed Hill to do the driving because she wanted time to think over everything they’d discussed in their meeting. On the way to the stadium, they listened to Big Ben Markinson on WFBR as he worked his listeners into a frenzy speculating about what might’ve happened to Willie Vasquez.
“I’m sorry,” one caller said, “but the bastard had it coming to him. He totally screwed us out of a trip to the World Series.”
“And you think he deserved to die for that?” Big Ben asked.
“Let’s put it this way—no one will mourn his passing.”
“Not even his wife or his two little kids or his parents?”