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“Hi there. What’s up?”
“You heard about the Blanchet case.”
“Murder-suicide?”
“We haven’t determined that for sure yet, but we understand the father was investigated for potential sexual assault claims made by patients.”
“Let me look.” Erica fired up her computer. “I heard it was a tough crime scene.”
“Always is when kids are involved.”
“Yeah, for sure.” She did some more typing. “I can see that Ramsey investigated and found there wasn’t evidence to support criminal charges.”
“We have his report, but do you remember anything about the investigation?”
“I can’t say that I do. Are you looking at that as a possible motive?”
“We’re not sure. We were hoping to avoid having to ask Ramsey.”
Erica grimaced. “Don’t blame you there. I heard he’s preparing to file a lawsuit against the department for his son’s death.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” MPD sharpshooters had killed Detective Ramsey’s son, Shane, after he took a woman hostage in a local park. They’d tied Shane Ramsey to numerous rapes and murders before the incident that had led to his death. “He can sue all he wants. That was a clean shot.”
“You and I know that, but you can’t tell him.” She glanced up at him. “How’s Sam doing since her brother-in-law passed?”
Freddie knew Sam considered Erica a friend. “Between us?”
“Of course.”
“I think she’s struggling a bit. She’s taken some time off, which she didn’t really do after he died.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I’m not sure how she or her husband function with so much coming at them all the time. This latest thing with the Joint Chiefs is just insane.”
“It really is, not to mention his mother and all of that.”
“She’s disgusting.”
“Always has been, from what I hear. Well, thanks for checking for me. If you think of anything, you know where to find me.”
“Will do. Give Sam my best when you talk to her.”
He nodded and headed back downstairs, planning to track down Rory McInerny next and then talk to the women who’d sued Marcel Blanchet.
When Sam arrivedat Angela’s, she and Tracy were already seated at Ang’s kitchen table with hot beverages in front of them. Sam recognized the decaf herbal tea that Angela drank when she was pregnant and grimaced. If there was one good thing about her inability to conceive, it was that she didn’t have to give up the caffeine that powered her days.
Sam put the bags of food she’d brought with her on the counter. “Lunch, compliments of the White House.”
“Yummy,” Tracy said, opening bags to investigate.
“There’s coffee, Sam,” Angela said. “I just made it.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Sam said, helping herself.
“What’re you doing here in the middle of a workday?” Angela asked.
“Taking a little time off.”
“Since when?”
