When he saw Sam standing in the doorway to her office, he said, “You’re the bitch who’s always trying to ruin my dad!” He strained to break free of the tight hold Gonzo and Jeannie had on him. “Is this how you get even with him? By arresting his son?”

Sam let him go by without comment. If she were to reply, she might say that she had zero interest in his father and a ton of interest in rapist-murderers.

They put him in interview one.

“Matt, go in and keep an eye on him, please,” Sam said.

O’Brien stood. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sam updated Gonzo, Jeannie and Freddie on what she’d learned from Kaitlyn and Wes.

“He’s our guy,” Gonzo said, his eyes lighting up.

“The judge shot down our warrant, and Malone said even with this new info, it’s not enough to go back to the judge. We need more.”

“Then we’ll get more,” Gonzo said fiercely.

“Call Patrol and ask for a couple of officers outside interview one. I don’t want anyone interrupting us. We also need to get one of the AUSAs here to listen in. I’ve got a call into their office. Let’s take our time and do this right.”

She no sooner got those words out than Sergeant Ramsey came bursting into the pit, eyes blazing.

“What’ve you done with my son, you fucking whore?”

Before Sam could come up with a witty, cutting response, Captain Malone moved into place between them. “Move along, Sergeant. Union or no union, I’ll kick your ass out of here so fast, you won’t know what hit you.”

“Where is my son?” he hissed, making an obvious effort to not rip Malone’s head off.

“Sergeant, you have five seconds to get the fuck out of here, or I’ll have you arrested,” Malone said.

Sam stood in the doorway to her office, arms crossed, unblinking as Ramsey glared at her with unfettered hatred.

“Three, two, one,” Malone said. “Detective Cruz, please take Sergeant Ramsey into custody.”

“I’m going,” Ramsey spat at Sam. “But if anything happens to him, I’ll own this place.”

After he stormed off, Sam said, “I was really looking forward to watching Detective Cruz arrest him.”

“Let’s move this along,” Malone said. “If Shane’s not our guy, I want him out of here ASAP.”

“He’s our guy,” Sam said. “I’m sure of it.”

“Now all you have to do is prove it.”

Roni Connolly’s favorite meeting of the day happened at four o’clock, when Scotty Cappuano and his dog, Skippy, came to the office to, as he put it, “take a meeting.”

Scotty was a handsome fourteen-year-old, and Skippy a sweet, full-of-energy yellow Lab mix puppy.