SHORTLY BEFORE FOUR, Hill, Green, Cruz and McBride arrived at Sam’s, bringing with them new reports from the ME and fire marshal. Hill remained outside on a call while Sam read through Lindsey’s report first, skimming through the gruesome details of torture and possible sexual assault of Cleo. In addition to Jameson’s missing teeth, he’d had broken fingers on both hands.
“The fire marshal determined the fire was set in the living room and aided by an accelerant that was detected throughout the room,” Jeannie said. “As the victims were found in the middle of the room, the fire marshal concluded the accelerant—most likely gasoline—was placed in a wide circle around them.”
“Whoever did this wanted them to know they were going to burn to death.”
“That’s the fire marshal’s conclusion as well,” Jeannie said, her expression grim.
“I don’t know about you guys,” Sam said fiercely, “but I want the motherfucker who did this to pay.”
“Totally with you,” Cruz said, briefing Sam on the conversation with Emma Knoff. “I gotta say... These people were unreal. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to bring her in for a more formal interview downtown, if for no other reason than to instill some humility.”
“Proceed,” Sam said. “Set it up for first thing in the morning.”
Hill came in from outside. “We might have a significant break.”
“Speak to me.”
“We nabbed Duke Piedmont at Dulles,” he said of the airport located twenty-six miles west of Washington in Northern Virginia. “Our investigators can put him in the city the night of the murders.”
“Holy shit,” Sam said, having to concede that sometimes the obvious suspect was actually guilty. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re taking him to headquarters. I’m meeting our agents there in an hour. I assume you want to be there when we talk to him?”
Sam felt torn in a thousand directions. “I do, but I can’t leave the kids. Not tonight. We’re going to tell them...”
“I understand.”
“Will you update me as soon as you can?”
“Absolutely.”
“What do we do until we know for sure it was him?” Freddie asked.
“We keep doing our thing and keep pulling the threads,” Sam said. “It’s not over until we’re one hundred percent sure.” After hearing about how the Beauclairs had died, Sam wanted vengeance as much as she wanted justice for their precious children. “What else have we got?”
“I followed the money,” Green said, “and found that Jameson Beauclair continued to make plenty of it from his patented software long after APG shut down.”
“How’s that possible if the company was defunct?” Freddie asked.
“He still held the license for the software, which means other companies could produce it while he continued to profit.”
“All this corporate shit gives me a headache,” Sam said. “So even though APG is defunct, the software isn’t?”
“Right,” Green said. “The licensing agreements were very profitable.” He produced documentation that showed Beauclair’s earnings from the year before had topped three-hundred-million dollars.
“Damn,” Sam said. “Where was this info when I was picking a career?”
The others laughed. The much-needed moment of levity broke some of the tension that had hung over the group after they’d discussed how their victims had perished.
“At least the kids will be set for money,” Sam said, perusing the staggering balance sheet Green had unearthed.
“Small comfort,” Freddie said.
“True.” To Green she said, “Where’d you get this anyway?”
“He incorporated a new business in Delaware as Jameson Armstrong called JAE for Jameson Armstrong Enterprises, and the balance sheet was part of a required public filing with the Delaware secretary of state.”
“He did a piss-poor job of hiding,” Sam said. “If Piedmont wanted to find him, it wouldn’t have taken much effort on his part.”
“No, it really wouldn’t have,” Green said, “which leads me to wonder—why now? Why after all this time would Piedmont pick this week to make his move? JAE was incorporated more than eighteen months ago with Armstrong listed as the CEO and sole proprietor.”
“You didn’t pick up anything new from a business standpoint?” Sam asked.
“Three months ago, Forbes had a story about Armstrong rising from the ashes of APG to forge a new path for his revolutionary software. But again, that was months ago. If Piedmont was going to react to the news that Armstrong was continuing to profit from the software, why would he wait?”
“Is it possible he hadn’t seen it before now?”
“Possible but not probable,” Hill said. “The guy was a fugitive from federal law enforcement. I’d bet he stayed on top of anything and everything having to do with Armstrong, APG and the software.”
“The thing I don’t understand at all,” Sam said, “is why they bothered to change their names and relocate if Jameson was going to continue to do business like nothing had happened?”
“Our supposition,” Hill said, “is that they panicked when everything first went down with APG. Piedmont took off, threatening Armstrong and his family on the way out of town. Armstrong and his wife were offered protection and they took it out of fear for their safety and that of their children. They didn’t think it all the way through to include the implications for his ability to continue to profit from his invention.”
“Why did he need to continue to profit?” Sam asked. “Didn’t he make billions the first time around?”
“The software was going to continue to exist in the market with or without his involvement,” Hill said. “He chose for it to be with his involvement.”
“Even if that put him and his family in danger?” Sam asked.
“Even if,” Hill said.
“One more thing about the money,” Green said, handing Sam another printout. “This just popped up half an hour ago. Cleo withdrew one hundred thousand in cash from her bank the afternoon before the fire. I’ve put in a request for security footage from the branch where she made the transaction, and I’m waiting to hear back. Apparently, the request has to go through the bank’s corporate offices in New York.”
Sam glanced at Hill and handed the printout to him. “Can you see what you can do to speed that up?” Sometimes things happened quicker when the FBI asked, not that Sam would ever admit to such a thing out loud.
“Yep.” He was typing a text before she finished asking the question.
“Let’s get over there and interview the people at the bank,” Sam said.
“I’ll do that as soon as they open in the morning,” Green said.
Shelby came out of the kitchen with Noah attached to her chest.
Hill lit up at the sight of them. After he sent the text, he got up and went over to see them both.
The baby let out a squeal of excitement when he spotted his daddy.
“I’m going to check on Alden and Aubrey,” Shelby said. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“We’re glad you did,” Hill said, kissing Noah’s forehead before he rejoined the meeting.
“Thank you, Shelby,” Sam said.
“This is the report from Patrol about the accident Cleo was in on Friday.” Freddie handed over a printout of the report that had been sitting in her email for most of the day waiting for her to have a chance to review it.
Sam read the report, filed by Patrolman O’Brien, who she’d worked with in the past, detailing the altercation between Cleo and a man named Victor Klein. She’d been driving her white Audi SUV westbound on Connecticut Avenue when she was allegedly sideswiped by Mr. Klein, who’d been driving an older silver BMW.
She skimmed O’Brien’s account of the accident, including the fact that Cleo Beauclair was nearly arrested for the way she acted in the aftermath. “Mrs. Beauclair was screaming at Mr. Klein that he’d endangered her children’s lives with his reckless driving. He was screaming back at her, telling her to shut her fucking mouth. It was discovered that Mr. Klein was wanted on a warrant for failing to appear in court, and he was taken into custody. It’s worth noting that both parties were unusually agitated after what we would call a routine MVA. Mr. Klein was furious about being arrested and was also charged with resisting arrest.”
“Who is he?” Sam asked.
Freddie handed her a printout of Klein’s rap sheet, and as she studied it, a tingle of sensation traveled the length of her backbone. In a career of crime that covered everything from petty larceny to B&E, he was what they often referred to as an escalator—his crimes started simple and graduated to more serious offenses. The warrant had stemmed from a failure to appear in court on a child support matter.
He was on parole for the B&E charge. Other than the child support issue, he hadn’t been in any trouble since being released from prison a year ago.
“I want to look at this guy,” Sam said. “Did he get a load of Cleo and her fancy car and see dollar signs?”
“I pulled his financials,” Freddie said, “and he’s up to his eyeballs in debt. The outstanding child support alone is over six figures.”
“I want to know every step he made from the second he was released from custody—and why was he released if he still owes that much in back child support?” Sam asked.
“Probably because we were full to overflowing in the city jail last weekend, and they arraigned and released anyone charged with nonviolent crimes,” Freddie said.
“Cruz, Green and McBride—brief Carlucci and Dominguez on where we are and get them on Klein tonight. I want anything and everything we can get on this guy. What else does anyone have?”
“McBride and I talked to the neighbors and again to the women we talked to yesterday who knew Cleo, but we didn’t get anything new there,” Cruz said. “We didn’t pick up on any hint of marital trouble or infidelity or anything like that, but we also didn’t get the sense that the people we talked to would know if there was trouble in paradise.”
“I’m going to see if I can explore that line of questioning more thoroughly with the older son when he gets here,” Sam said.
“I’ve got my people checking into disgruntled APG employees,” Hill said, “but that’s slow going. They’re scattered all over the place, so we’re tracking them down one by one. I’ll let you know if anything pops there.”
“Good work today, everyone,” Sam said. “Let’s reconvene at HQ tomorrow at zero seven hundred and see where we are.” She had to go into the office tomorrow, so she’d need to ask Ms. Finklestein whether she could leave the children with Shelby. Until they figured out who had killed Jameson and Cleo, Sam didn’t think the children should return to school.
After the others left, Sam went upstairs to check on the kids, who were still sleeping. She hadn’t seen Shelby upstairs, so she must be back in the kitchen. Then she looked in on Scotty, who was doing his homework with headphones on. When he saw her come in, he took off the headphones.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Just checking on all my kids.”
“Are they still asleep?”
Sam nodded. “We’ll have to get them up in about half an hour or so. Their older brother is due here soon.”
“Do you think we’ll get to keep them?” Scotty asked.
Sam went to sit on the edge of his bed. “Probably not. We offered them temporary shelter until something more permanent could be arranged.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that they can’t stay. If it makes you feel any better, I’m disappointed too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. It didn’t take long to get attached to them.”
“They’re cute.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Where will they go when they leave here?”
“We don’t know that yet. The social worker is trying to find family members who’d be willing to take them. It’s all very complicated and compounded by the tragic loss the family has already suffered.”
He looked up at her with big eyes. “Will you make sure that wherever they go, they’ll be safe and well cared for? Before you let them leave here?”
“Yes, buddy,” Sam said, hugging him. “I’ll make sure.”
“Not all foster homes are as good as this one.”
A feeling of acute unease had her sitting up straighter. “Scotty—”
“I need to finish this stupid math homework, okay?” He gave her a pleading look, all but begging her not to pursue it further.
But how could she hear that and not want to know what he’d meant? “Okay.” She got up to leave the room and encountered Nick coming up the stairs. “Did Terry and the others leave?”
“Just now. How are the littles?”
“Still sleeping. We’ll have to get them up soon.” She glanced at Darcy, the Secret Service agent sitting outside Scotty’s door, and took Nick by the hand, tugging him into their room and closing the door. “Scotty just said something.”
“What did he say?”
“We were talking about the kids and where they might end up. He wanted me to promise I’d make sure they end up in a good place. He said not all foster homes are as good as this one.”
Nick’s jaw tightened. “What do you suppose that means?”
“He cut me off before I could say anything. It was obvious he didn’t want me to ask.”
Nick stood with his hands on his hips, his posture unusually rigid. “The thought of anyone being unkind to him makes me murderous.”
“I know. Me too.”
“We’ve never really talked to him about the time between when his mother and grandfather died and when he ended up with Mrs. Littlefield in Richmond.”
“Do you think we should?”
“Part of me is afraid to ask.”
Sam sighed. “Me too. But now I need to know. There was definitely something to the way he said it that has me freaking out a little about what we don’t know.”
After a long pause, Nick said, “Let’s table this for now. We’ll talk to him when the time is right, and while we’re in the middle of the situation with Aubrey and Alden is not the time. Do you agree?”
“Yes, that works for me. But we do need to talk to him.”
He put his arms around her. “We will.”
“I wish there was a way to go back and erase everything that hurt him.”
“That’d be nice,” Nick said, “but all we can do is let him know we’re here and he can tell us anything.”
“This parenting gig is hard sometimes.”
“True, but most of the time he makes it easy on us.”
“Yes, he does, because he’s the best kid ever.”
“You won’t hear me arguing.” Nick drew back and put his hands on her face before he kissed her. “There’s no one else I’d rather be navigating the parenthood maze with than you.”
“Even if I’m a hot mess of a mother most of the time?”
“You are not. Why would you say that?”
“You ought to hear the stuff Cleo did for her kids. Volunteering at their school, craft parties and playdates—”
Nick kissed her until she forgot what she was going to say. “You’re a wonderful mother, and your son adores you.”
“For now. How will he feel when he finds out I was supposed to have craft parties?”
“He’ll be damned thankful you never put him through that nonsense. Now if you wanted to have his friends over for a video game tournament, he’d be all for that.”
“Let’s do it. When you get back, we’ll tell him to invite as many friends as he wants for a sleepover with video games and movies and pizza and up-all-night fun.”
“And who will be the one to supervise this up-all-night fun?”
“Duh. You. You’re the one with insomnia. It may as well be useful for once.”
Nick laughed and then kissed her again. “You’re a wonderful mother, Sam. Don’t ever think otherwise. You’d lay down your own life for that boy.”
“I really would.”
“That’s all that matters.”