“Of course. Whatever I can do to help make him pay for what he did to King. Can I ask you… Will my mother be charged with murder, too?”
“I’m not sure yet how her case will be handled. That’ll be up to the U.S. Attorney’s Office. We collect all the evidence, and then they make prosecution decisions based on whether they think they can secure a conviction in court.”
“I see.”
“If you think of anything else that might be relevant, you’ve got my number,” Sam said.
Amara nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch with next steps.”
“Okay.”
Sam and Freddie left the morgue to return to the pit.
“Do you believe her?” Sam asked.
“I do, but anything is possible.”
Chapter Fifteen
While Freddie went to check on Thelma, Sam texted Tracy. Checking in to see how it’s going.
It’s going. We’re talking to your lovely Dr. Trulo, and he’s helping. We made a lot of progress today. Mike took ownership of the mistakes he made, which makes a big difference to me. We went for coffee after our session and talked about a lot of things. He’s moving back home, and we’re going to work on it. That’s where we are right now.
Sam was elated to hear that Mike would be moving home. That’s tremendous progress. I’m so glad to hear you’re talking. How do you feel about it?
I feel better than I did. I’m not completely “over it,” but him taking ownership really helped. He gets it. That matters.
Yes, it does. Call me if you need to talk.
I will.
Love you.
Love you, too.
Hit me up later.
Tracy replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
Sam was so happy for Tracy—and for Mike. While she felt for both of them and wanted them to find their way back to each other, she’d empathized more with Tracy in this case.
Sam, too, hadn’t understood why Mike would allow their eleven-year-old son to wander the city with his friends. He was too young for that kind of freedom. Then Ethan went missing, and their marriage blew up under the strain of those excruciating few days when they hadn’t been sure they’d ever see their son again. The trauma wouldn’t soon fade for any of them.
She’d no sooner had that thought than Captain Ruiz appeared at her door. “Is this a better time?”
No, it isn’t. “Sure, come in.”
Ruiz walked in and closed the door behind her. The captain was about five seven, with a curvy body, dark curly hair and brown eyes.
Sam gestured for her to take one of the visitor chairs. “What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the Mayfield case.”
“What about it?”
“I believe you already know what I want to talk about.”
