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“It was more or less as expected. Just brutal having to tell more families about our major failings as a department.”
“They’re not your failings.”
“They belong to all of us who ever worked with him and didn’t see what he was doing.”
“How could you have seen it? He was your boss. It wasn’t your job to investigate him. It was all you could do to handle your own job while dealing with him.”
“It’s hard to explain how this feels like a failure for all of us. We’re cops. We’re supposed to rid the city of crime, and it was happening right under our own noses. He could very well be a serial killer, and we had no idea. We had no clue that Conklin was sitting on info that would’ve solved my dad’s case years before we finally got to the truth. We didn’t know Hernandez was aware of Conklin’s involvement and didn’t tell anyone or that Ramsey was mentally unbalanced. The collective whole of it makes us look incompetent.”
“No, it makesthemlook like that. Not the rest of you, who are out there doing the work and solving the cases day after day. You’re keeping the rest of us safe. People should appreciate that.”
“They should, and many of them do. But the negatives have far outweighed the positives for a while now.”
“That’s not true. You’re doing what you can to right the wrongs of the past, and that’s appreciated by so many. Marcel Blanchet’s mother is grateful for how quickly your team solved the murders of her son and his family. I saw the note she sent you on the desk at home. Those things—and those people—matter, Samantha. You have to take the small victories where you can get them while you fight the larger war.”
“You ought to be a politician when you grow up. You’ve got a way with words.”
She always made him laugh, even when she was having an existential crisis.
Then she looked up at him with that one-in-a-million face, her eyes full of the vulnerability that only he ever saw from his badass supercop. “You really do. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
“That’s my most important job.” He tipped her chin up for a kiss. “You, my love, are the best cop in the whole world. You care so much about crime victims, their families, your community, the people you work with and for. No one could ask for more than what you give to a thankless job. You should never feel diminished by the sins of others.”
She seemed to think about that for a beat. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. I do care. Probably more than I should.”
“Nah, you care just the right amount, and that comes through to everyone you deal with on the job. Well, maybe not receptionists or people with obnoxious doorbells or certain officers who shall not be named.”
Again, she laughed, and the sound filled him with joy. He loved to make her laugh, especially when she was feeling down.
“The ones who shall not be named are criminals,” he said. “Is it unfortunate and disappointing that they worked among the honorable men and women who make up the MPD? It sure as hell is, but the rest of you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Are you sure about that? They got away with murder, literally in Stahl’s case, and it happened while he was surrounded by the very people charged with preventing such things.
“I’m sure about it. Don’t forget he—and the others—knew all too well how to work the system so he wouldn’t get caught.”
“I guess.”
“You know what you need?”
“What’s that?”
“A nice bubble bath, a glass of wine, some TLC from your favorite husband, a fire, dinner, a movie, some epic snuggling. How does that sound?”
“Yes, please, to all of that.”
Chapter Twelve
“Iwant to talk about your son,” Collins said over dinner of tender pork, risotto, salad and crusty bread fresh from the oven.
Nicoletta took a sip of the rosé wine he’d gotten for her after she told him it was her favorite. “What about him?”
“Your son is the president of the United States.”
“I’m aware.”
“I find that fascinating. Especially in light of your current… challenges.”
“So what you’re wondering is how a criminal like me has a son like him?”
