Sam banged her palm against the door. “Let me out of here, Vernon.”
“I need one more minute to complete our canvass of the area.”
“You’re not tipping my hand, are you?”
“Would I do that to you?”
“I sure as hell hope not.”
Two endless minutes passed while she watched Freddie and two Patrol officers prepare to go in while she sat twiddling her thumbs in the SUV. “Vernon, I need to go. Right now.”
Thankfully, he got out of the driver’s seat and opened the back door for her. “All clear.”
She rolled her eyes at him and joined the others, knowing Freddie would’ve briefed them on the plan. “Good to go?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They walked into the offices of Cushing Family Insurance and encountered Sam’s favorite thing—a stunned receptionist who’d be telling everyone she knew that the first lady had stopped by her office.
“I’m looking for Thelma Robinson-Bingham. Can you direct me to her?”
“Um, she’s… uh…” The woman gestured over her shoulder. “Last door on the right.”
To one of the Patrol officers, Sam said, “Make sure she doesn’t tell anyone about this.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sam followed the woman’s direction to the back of the office and noted Thelma’s name on a plate next to a closed door. She opened it to find Thelma on the phone and enjoyed witnessing the exact moment she recognized Sam and fully understood why she’d come.
Into the phone, Thelma said, “I, um, I have to go.”
“Thelma Robinson-Bingham, you’re going to need to come with us.”
While Sam recited the Miranda warning, Freddie went around the desk, hauled the woman to her feet and cuffed her, all before Thelma had fully processed what was happening.
She let out a wail of distress and began to cry.
“Let’s go,” Sam said.
They marched her through the office, past her stunned coworkers and out the door to the parking lot to load her into an MPD cruiser for the ride to headquarters.
As the car rolled away, Sam looked to Freddie. “That was rather satisfying, if I do say so myself.”
“Very satisfying indeed. That instant when she realized who’d come calling and why. Chef’s kiss.”
“Did you notice she never said we had the wrong person?”
“I did. She’s probably been waiting for this for six years, knowing it would catch up to her eventually.”
“I hope it’s eaten her alive every minute of those six years. Any word from Gonzo yet?”
“He just texted that Louis is in custody.”
“Excellent. I love days like this when justice is served on a silver fucking platter.”
As she headed for the SUV, she took a call from Nick on the BlackBerry. “I hope your day is going as well as mine is.”
“It’s not. I fired Gretchen.”
