Page 128 of State of Retribution

“Who?”

“Conklin.”

Malone stared at him for a long moment and then stood so abruptly, he startled Freddie.“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To ask him.”

Holy shit.“Okay.”

Malone moved as fast as Freddie had ever seen him go as they made their way to the main entrance and outside into the cool spring evening.Neither of them said a word as Malone drove them over the 14thStreet Bridge to Conklin’s Northern Virginia home.

On the way, Freddie thought about how Sam hated to leave the District for any reason, especially to see the disgraced former officer who’d pretended to be a friend to her father while sitting on information that would’ve solved his case years earlier.

Would Freddie ever spend another day pounding the pavement with her, bickering like siblings, laughing and sharing the good, the bad and the ugly?The thought of her being forced out of the job she loved by people who were jealous of her success or threatened by her fame or God only knew what else was unfathomable to him.

“How’re we playing it?”Freddie asked the captain after an interminable silence.

“I’m going to come right out and ask him if he’s been telling tales out of school, and if he has, I’m going to arrest him.He can await trial in lockup rather than in the comfort of his own home.”

“Never sat right with me that he wasn’t locked up from the first second we learned what he’d done.”

“Same, but he has rights, you see.”

Malone’s words dripped with sarcasm.As far as he and Freddie and many others were concerned, a man who’d pretend to serve the department as deputy chief while sitting on information that could’ve solved his so-called friend’s attempted murder years earlier shouldn’t have any rights.

“Cap.”

“Yeah?”

“Um, you might want to, you know, take a breath before you go in there hot, so you don’t, like, kill him or something.”As a detective, he wasn’t used to giving a captain advice, but in this case, he felt it was warranted.

Malone tightened his grip on the wheel as his cheek pulsed with tension.“Thank you for the concern.You’re probably right that I might wring his neck if he’s involved in this.”

“Don’t do that.Sir.”

“Don’t let me, okay?”

“I won’t, sir.”

“Stop calling me sir, for fuck’s sake, Cruz.”

At any other time, Freddie would’ve laughed.Nothing about this was funny, however.

Malone pulled into the parking lot and parked in a visitor space.He was out of the car and headed for the front door before Freddie got his seat belt off.

He ran after the captain, determined to keep his promise to not let him kill Conklin.Although he certainly understood the desire.Freddie had never had violent thoughts like the ones he’d had toward Conklin since learning of his culpability in Skip’s shooting.After having a front-row seat to Sam’s torturous efforts to get answers for her dad, their family and the department, knowing that Conklin could’ve solved the case the whole time had been hard to swallow.

Malone banged on the door with a closed fist.

“Haven’t seen him around in a while,” the woman next door said as she came out of her townhouse.“Not sure if he still lives there.”

“Contact the parole office,” Malone said to Freddie.“See if he’s moved.”

Freddie wasn’t sure who Conklin’s parole officer was, so he called Brendan Sullivan, an officer he and Sam worked with frequently.He usually took their calls, even after hours.

“Hey, Cruz, what’s up?”

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