hard-pressed to find anyone who was defrauded by her who didn’t want her dead.”
He leaned in, expression intense, eyes full of fury and maybe hurt too. “You have to understand, Lieutenant. She ruined our lives. She destroyed our faith in humanity. I mean, if a friend can do this to you… My wife and I had a solid relationship before this. And now…” He blew out a deep breath. “I made the mistake of blaming her for what Ginny did. She was Ginny’s friend, after all. But it wasn’t Clarissa’s fault. We decided together to invest, and it was wrong of me to blame Clarissa. I never should’ve done that, and now I’m left to wonder if she’ll ever forgive me.”
“Where would we find your wife?” Sam asked.
His expression went completely blank. “Why do you need to talk to her?”
“For the same reason we wanted to talk to you. She was a victim of Ginny’s scheme, and I’d like to gain her perspective.”
“Her story would be very similar to mine.”
“Good to know. Where can we find her?”
Seeming to realize he couldn’t talk her out of speaking to Clarissa, he said, “She’s a yoga instructor and teaches classes at night. During the day, she’s at home.”
Sam handed the paper he’d given her back to him. “Please write down your home address and your wife’s phone number.”
He did as she asked and gave the paper back to her. “Are you going there to see her?”
“We are, and we’d rather you not tell her we’re coming.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked you not to.”
Oh, he didn’t like that, but wisely refrained from saying so.
Sam stood, and Freddie did the same. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant to our investigation, please let me know.” She handed him her business card. “I understand you have no incentive to help us figure out who killed her, but we’d appreciate your cooperation anyway.”
“I’ve told you what I know. The rest of the details are in the court filings.”
“Thank you for your time.”
Sam led the way through the bank lobby. Every set of eyes in the place landed on her as she headed for the exit. Once outside, she took a deep breath of fresh, cold air that settled her. Being recognized everywhere she went was unnerving, especially in light of her job locking up criminals. She never knew when she might encounter someone she’d arrested years ago who’d recognize her due to her increased notoriety and love nothing more than to make something of her newfound role as second lady. That was a thought she was better off not entertaining.
“Where to?” Freddie asked when they were back in her car.
She handed over the paper Haverson had given them. “Let’s go see Clarissa.”
Chapter Seven
The Haversons lived in a brick-front colonial with black shutters and fancy iron work around a balcony on the second floor.
“How many brick-fronted homes do you think there are in the capital region?” Sam asked.
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“No, I’m actually wondering how many you think there are.”
“Tens of thousands?”
“Probably a good estimate.”
“Is there a reason you’re counting bricks?”
“Just curious.” She pressed the doorbell and listened to the loud chiming that echoed inside the big house.
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“I don’t get it with the nuclear-bomb doorbells. Wouldn’t that scare the shit out of you every time it goes off?”
“I imagine it’d be rather startling.”
“Rather.” Sam looked in the window on the right side of the black front door. “If Haverson tipped her off that we were coming, I’m going to arrest his ass.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then you can do the paperwork.”
Sam cupped her hands around her eyes for a better view inside. “I don’t do paperwork. That’s why I have you.” She rang the bell again. “Wake up, Clarissa.” Movement on the second floor had Sam looking up in time to see a blonde woman coming down the stairs with… a fucking gun pointed at the door.
Sam grabbed Freddie and pulled him back while simultaneously drawing her own weapon. At least they could say with reasonable confidence that her husband hadn’t tipped her off. If he had, she was insane for greeting cops with a gun.
“What’re you doing?” Freddie asked as he shook her off.
“She’s got a gun, and it’s pointed at us.”
“Who is it?” Clarissa asked from inside.
While remaining out of sight of the window, Sam held up her badge. “Lieutenant Holland, Metro Police Department. We want to talk to you about Ginny McLeod.” She spoke as loud as