Free Front Page Fatality by Lyndee Walker Page A

broke. “We just started talking about trying to have a baby.”
    I bit my lip and forged ahead. “Your husband was with the police department a little under a year. Did he ever tell you why he wanted to be a police officer?”
    “He talked about it all the time. We dated for three years before we got married, and the whole time we were in college, all he could talk about was being a cop. He got his degree in criminal justice and he went straight to the academy after graduation. He wanted to help people. And he thought the guns were cool.” Her tone lightened as she told me about him.
    “I was nervous about him doing this for a living. I didn’t know if I would be able to handle him putting himself in danger every time he went to work. He reassured me constantly, and he showed me all his safety gear. I was always afraid he was going to get shot. Something like this never even crossed my mind.”
    The tears returned then, making her voice thick again. She took a deep breath before she continued. “Alex was a good man. Caring and thoughtful and generous, and honest to a fault. He was my soul mate. I truly believe that. He would have been an amazing father.”
    She dissolved into sobs at the last sentence, and I waited as she collected herself. I tried to think of something to say, but “I’m sorry” seemed woefully inadequate, so I stayed quiet.
    I asked her if there was a phone number where his parents could be reached, and she told me they both died in an accident when Alex was young. He’d been raised by his grandparents, who also died in recent years.
    “I see,” I said. “Just one more question. Did Alex mention anything about why he went out on the river last night?”
    “No. He said he had to go to work. Didn’t the department tell you what he was doing?”
    “They can’t find anyone who ordered the boat out last night. They’re investigating the possibility it was taken without orders.”
    She sucked in a sharp breath and when she spoke, her tone was a peculiar mix of incredulous and hurt. “Wait. They’re saying Alex and Brian were what? Fishing? Partying on the department’s boat?” There was a long pause, and I didn’t even chance breathing too loud.
    “Miss Clarke,” she finally said, her words deliberate. “My husband was not the kind of man who did anything even remotely against the rules. Alex was the straightest of straight arrows. Eagle Scout, honor society, the cleanest record in the department. I may not know why he was out on that boat last night, but I sure as hell know him. He did not take it without orders. If someone suggested he did, they’re lying. I’d stake my life on it.”

5.

    Deep background

    There’s nothing more frustrating for a reporter than a heap of unanswered questions. Facing a blank computer screen with only a sketchy idea of what killed five people, each of whom had been the center of someone else’s universe, had me zipping past frustrated and aiming straight for pissed off. Talking to Brian Freeman’s mother had only made me feel worse. She lost her husband in January, and Brian had been her only child.
    I slammed my hands down on my desk and jumped to my feet. What the hell was so hard about “Why was the boat out there?” I paced behind my cubicle as my mind tried to force this puzzle into some logical order. There were way too many holes to see a clear picture. I finally asked myself what I’d tell Jenna first. Which, of course, was what Charlie hadn’t already told the greater Richmond metro area. That worked, and I resumed my seat and quickly lost myself in the rhythm of the keystrokes.

    After receiving information regarding Friday night’s fatal boating crash on the James River, FBI agents joined Richmond police in combing the riverbank for clues Saturday.
    “We got a tip,” Special Agent Denise Starnes said Saturday, “that this might be more than it seems.”

    I quoted Lowe about the internal affairs investigation next, and wrote