Chapter 63
Christine sat at a table in a conference room of the hotel in New York where Newcomb and his staff were staying. She drummed her fingers on the table, her impatience growing with each minute that went by as she waited for her first meeting. She had struggled with how to proceed with her investigation. She wanted to get Newcomb's DNA to compare to the sample the medical examiner had pulled from Amy's fetus, but she knew that once she opened that door, there would be no going back. It would be career suicide if she accused the candidate of involvement in Amy's murder and then he was proven innocent. She was right in the middle of a political minefield, and she was going to have to tread very softly.
The agent also knew that even if she had proof that Newcomb was the baby's father, it didn't mean he was involved in Amy's murder - if, and it was still a big if, Amy was in fact murdered. It was still possible that she was a random victim of an assassination attempt on the candidate. Or even if she was the intended target, her killer could be someone operating outside of Newcomb's knowledge.
In short, Christine knew she was a long way from gathering enough evidence to indict anyone. She would have to proceed carefully and stay under the radar - both her boss's and the media's - until she had enough proof to go public with her suspicions.
Because of that, she had decided the easier track was to go after Terry Brinson first. If he had been the shooter, whether he was acting alone or with Newcomb's knowledge, and she could nail him, she would solve the murder. And then maybe if Newcomb was involved, she could get Brinson to turn on his friend.
When Terry walked into the conference room, she was still debating on how to best handle the man. As he sat down across from her, she realized she was just going to have to wing it. She started by asking him to review what he had observed before, during, and after the shooting. As she listened carefully to his answers, she became convinced that he wasn't telling her the truth. Although he said he was in the audience and watching the stage, some of what he relayed to her was inconsistent with other witnesses' reports. That in itself wasn't a lot to hang her hat on, but she was definitely starting to feel as though she was on to something. She decided to push a little harder.
She had a whiteboard with a drawing of the stage and the people who were on it at the time of the shooting. She referred to the board now. "When Amy was hit, you said that the Secret Service agents dragged the governor off the stage. Can you show me specifically where they exited the stage?"
Terry reached out and pointed to the chart. "The governor was standing here at the podium. When Amy went down, this agent here grabbed him and pulled him this way." He moved his finger, indicating the path the men took.
Christine wrinkled her brow. "Are you sure? Because the other witnesses said that he exited the stage in this direction." She moved her finger to the opposite side from where Terry had pointed.
Terry bit his lip. "I guess that might be right." He shrugged. "It all happened so fast. It's hard for me to remember now."
"But you said you were looking right at the stage."
"I was at first. But then after the shot, everyone around me started panicking. They were screaming and running. I was being pushed all over the place. I must have stopped looking at the stage and been focused more on the people around me."
Christine watched as Terry yanked at his tie knot, pulling it lower. As he undid the top button of his shirt, Christine could see that his hand was shaking. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, staring at him silently, watching the man fidget under her gaze.
Finally, she leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the table. "Why did you lie when you told me you didn't know who the father of Amy's baby was?"
Terry's eyes grew wide, his mouth started working, but no words came out. Finally he began to stammer. "I didn't know who the father was. I mean, I still don't know." His hands balled into fists. "Do you know who the father was?"
"I can't reveal that information at this time." Christine paused, watching his reaction. She could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. "Since you knew she was pregnant, I find it hard to believe you didn't know who the father was."
She could see the confusion on his face and knew he was struggling to remember what he had told her in their last interview. "But I didn't know she was pregnant."
Christine pretended to look at her earlier notes. "I have it written here that you told me you knew she was pregnant, but not who the father was."
Terry blinked hard. "I don't remember telling you that." He scratched at his face. "Are you sure I said that?"
Christine looked down, pretending to read something that wasn't there. "I have it here in my notes, but let's move on." She looked up, waiting until Terry met her eyes. "Let's talk about your career in the military - specifically your training as a sniper."
Terry leapt from his seat, looking like he was going to flee. Then he sat back down, his body shaking. "How is that relevant?"
"I thought that, as a trained sniper, you might be able to shed some light on the shooter. Maybe you could walk me through how he might have prepared for the shot. Why don't you tell me what you would have done?"
This time Terry jumped up and didn't sit back down. He looked at his watch. "I'm late for a meeting. We're going to have to continue this later."
Christine watched as he ran from the room, looking as though he were on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Forget about playing it safe, she thought. I'm going to get to the truth.
October: Two Weeks to Go