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Slate takes a sip from his coffee and studies the father-daughter moment over the top of his mug. “Our lawyers say her memory card has gone missing from the evidence locker.”

“Fuck.” All eyes hone in on the police chief.

His jaw drops wider than a large-mouthed bass on a hook. “Tell me truthfully, did you two rob a bank?”

“Of course not, Daddy.” Sam puts her hands on her hips.

It’s high time we own up to the crimes we did commit. “No sir, but we did steal a few cars but I did it to save her life. I’d call that extenuatin’ circumstances.”

Russo shakes his head. “I thought as much. The DA handed me a bunch of evidence right before the news conference. I was suspicious so I did a little digging. Guess what? A couple weeks ago, Gomez was close to bankruptcy. Then, out of the blue, he puts out a shitload of expensive campaign ads.”

Sam’s brows lift as understanding dawns. “You meanafterhe met with the crime boss.”

“Exactly.” Her dad pulls up his slacks to sit but my super-charged wife needs to pace.

At the window facing Fifth Avenue, she pivots on a heel and returns to the table. “Biermann, the pot dealer, must’ve recognized Gomez and Buonanno. Maybe, he tried to blackmail them… There was no other reason to kill him.”

Her dad nods, “Not wanting to draw attention, they stage it to look like suicide.”

“And their plan would’ve worked except for me.” She sighs heavily, strolls to the door, and turns.

Her father shakes his head. “The case had to have crossed Gomez’s desk. You being former FBI worried him. He must’ve pissed himself the moment he realized the silencer was missing. He had to make the photos disappear and implicate you.”

“What about the whole Bonnie and Clyde bit? Where did that come from? We sure as hell didn’t rob any banks.” I clench my fists, ready to bloody the DA’s asinine face.

Russo stares up at the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. “He was trying to discredit both me and Sammy. Gomez has no love for my new training and policing policies.”

“It all makes sense, except for the price on my wife’s head.” When my wandering wife comes round again, I pull her onto my lap. “Sit sugar, you’re making me dizzy.”

Slate scratches a couple day’s growth of hair on his chin. “The hit must’ve come from the crime boss. I’m guessing he didn’t trust Gomez to finish the job.”

With the clues all coming together, I remember something else important. I reach into my pocket, straighten out a crumpled paper and hand it to my friend. “Can you help me buy her ring back?”

He takes the receipt and as my wife stares down at her left hand, I feel like a heel. The diamond better still be there or I will be taking names and kicking down doors.

Looking older than he did a few moments ago, the police chief sighs and hands his daughter a phone. “For the love of God, talk to your mother.”

I clear my throat and hand his Blackberry back to him. “Not yet, sir. I didn’t travel out west and back, only to end up in the same place, with her life in danger.”

“What do you suggest? All we have is circumstantial evidence. She can’t stay dead forever.”

Sam pipes up. “Give us one more day. I think we may have a witness to the murder.”

Russo stands, brushes the wrinkles from his dress pants, and buttons his suit coat. “I’m going to need to call internal affairs. In the meantime, keep out of sight.”

Facing her with hands on her shoulders, he waits for her to glance up into his commanding face. “Let the police handle this, sweetheart.”

“Okay, Daddy. I will.”

Good God almighty, my wife sure can lie.