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“Where’s what coming from?”
“You saying that I don’t have to do this job anymore if I don’t want to. Where’s that coming from?”
“Nowhere. I’m just stating the obvious fact that you didn’t sign a lifetime contract with the department.”
“Neither did you.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Are you speaking for yourself or for me?”
“I’m just saying… You have options. There’re a lot of other things you could do that would be better than this.”
“I’ve heard you say—many, many times—that there’s nothing better than this.”
Sam hated when her own words were used against her. “That’s howIfeel. Doesn’t mean you have to feel the same way.” She wished she’d never opened the can of worms that had Freddie looking at her like he didn’t know her at all, when he knew her better than most.
She’d been out of sorts since they’d arrested the people who’d sold the fentanyl-laced pills to her brother-in-law. That’d been a hollow victory, as many of their victories were for victims’ families. Arresting the dealers didn’t bring Spence back. In fact, it didn’t change much of anything for her sister, their children or the others who’d loved him.
As Sam got out of the SUV and followed Freddie to the front door of a large brick-fronted home with pillars and ornate trim, she hoped it would someday matter to Angela and her children that they’d gotten justice for Spence. Right now, that was cold comfort.
Patrol Officers Phillips and Jestings greeted them at the doorway, which had yellow crime scene tape across it.
“Lieutenant, Detective,” Phillips said.
“What’ve we got?”
“Marcel and Liliana Blanchet and their four children.” Phillips swallowed hard as he consulted his notebook. “According to the neighbors, they’re Eloise, age twelve, Abigail, age ten, Violet, age six, and August, known as Gus, age four. By all accounts, a loving and well-loved family.”
“Any info on what the parents did for a living?” Sam asked.
“He’s an OB/GYN and well-known infertility expert. She’s a lawyer.”
Professions that give us plenty to work with,Sam thought.
“Possible murder-suicide,” Jestings added. “The father was found with a gun by his body.”
“Give us the tour.” Sam pulled on gloves as Freddie and the rest of her team did the same. “Gonzo, you’re on photos.”
“Got it.”
They walked into the house, where the smell of death was nearly overpowered by the scent of potpourri or something else scented. In a big, gourmet kitchen, the wife and mother was on the floor with bullet wounds to her chest and forehead. She’d been a beautiful Black woman with long braids and bracelets on her arms. Sam noticed she was wearing a coat, and bags of groceries were scattered about on the floor. Whoever had done this had caught her arriving home to a nightmare.
The husband, who was also Black, looked to be about six foot four or five. They found him on the floor in an office or study, a bullet wound to the temple and brain matter splattered on a dark wood desk behind him. Next to his body was a nine-millimeter handgun. “After you take photos, bag the weapon and his hands,” Sam said. “I want them tested for gunshot residue. While you’re at it, bag the wife’s hands, too.”
While the others saw to her orders, Sam and Freddie followed Phillips and Jestings upstairs, where each of the children had been shot in the head in their beds. The eldest of the four had three obvious wounds. Each of the others had one.
Their innocent faces and sweetly decorated bedrooms reduced Freddie to tears that he quickly brushed away.
That didn’t happen to Sam anymore, which was probably cause for concern. She’d never understand how anyone could commit murder in the first place, let alone the murder of innocent children, but for some reason, she felt oddly detached from the brutal scene before her.
“Have you called the ME?” Sam asked.
“They’re on the way with two trucks,” Jestings said.
The sound of a woman shrieking had Sam and Freddie rushing downstairs, while Gonzo and the other detectives came upstairs to take photos, measurements and notes that would guide their investigation.
A Black woman with gray hair, wearing a red coat, stood outside the crime scene tape demanding to be let in. Another Patrol officer stood in her way.
