Page 185 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

“Maybe not. Either way, we’ll find him. Archie’s trying to locate his phone now.”

“You won’t find him,” Sergeant Ramsey said when he came into the pit, looking smug. “You’ll never find him.”

“Do you know what the police officer father does when his son is wanted for sexual assault and murder?” Malone asked him.

“I can’t wait to hear this,” Ramsey said.

“He tells his son to turn himself in and face the music, or he won’t be a police officer for much longer.”

“You keep trying to get rid of me, and you haven’t succeeded yet.”

“If you know where he is and you don’t tell us, we’ll charge you.”

“Ah, but first you’d have to prove that I know where he is.” He shrugged. “I have no clue.”

Malone leaned in close so his face was half an inch from Ramsey’s. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“You know what’s funny about this?” Sam asked.

Ramsey glared at her.

“We don’t have to wait for the DNA to prove what we already know. Innocent men don’t run. They let us test their DNA so we can prove they didn’t do it. Shane’s done us a favor by moving things along.”

“People know better than to trust this corrupt department with their DNA. You all have a good day, now.” Ramsey walked out of the pit, whistling as he went as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Let’s put eyes on him, his wife and his other kids,” Sam said. “Since they know exactly where he is, maybe one of them will lead us to him.”

The squad split up the assignment, with individual detectives assigned to Ramsey and his family members.

“No one goes after Shane alone,” Sam said. “Call for backup before you do anything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cameron Green said as he followed Matt O’Brien out of the pit with Freddie and Gonzo right behind them.

They’d put Gonzo on the sergeant, since they shared the same rank.

“I want to be out there looking for him,” Sam said to Malone when they were the last ones left in the pit.

“Let’s go look, then,” Malone said, surprising her. “It sure as hell beats sitting around here waiting.”

With the captain at the wheel of his SUV, they looked everywhere they’d seen Shane Ramsey go over the last ten days—grocery store, coffee shop, bank, bar, restaurants, friends’ houses and his parents’ home, circling by the garage no fewer than ten times over the course of the frustrating tour.

Lindsey called at two.

Sam put the call on speaker so the captain could hear it.

“The DNA is a match,” Lindsey said, “but we knew it would be.”

“Yep,” Sam said, feeling vindicated.

“We also got the familial report to the local database that linked him to Ramsey.”

“Too little too late. If that technology is going to be useful in cases like this one, it needs to happen a hell of a lot faster than it does.”

“I’m sure it will as they perfect it.”

“Thanks for the info, Doc.”

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