His anguished wail sent chills down her spine. “No, no, no. Please not Mel. Not Mel.” When his legs would’ve buckled under him, Freddie grabbed him and kept him from falling. He clung to Freddie as he broke down into sobs.
Sam helped escort the man to a nearby stoop where they eased him onto a stair.
He dropped his head into his hands.
“What’s your name?” Sam asked.
“Joe Kramer,” he said, his voice muffled by the hands that covered his face.
“We’re so sorry for your loss, Joe.” Sam felt like an impotent asshole. What good would her words of sympathy do him when he’d lost the love of his life? She tried to imagine how she would feel if someone gunned down her husband. No. Just no. She couldn’t bear to entertain the thought.
“She’s pregnant,” he said softly, his head still down. “We just found out three days ago. She was so happy. How could this have happened?”
Sam’s heart broke for him—and his wife. She glanced at Freddie and saw him battling his emotions. Sometimes this job sucked so bad. Well, most of the time it sucked. “Do you have other children?”
Shaking his head, he said, “This was our first. We’ve been trying for a long time.” He looked up at them, devastation etched into his face as it seemed to register with him that he’d lost two loved ones today. “Who would’ve done this to her?”
“We don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
His shoulders sagged when he seemed to realize that even if they caught the perp it wouldn’t change anything for him. His wife would still be dead.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” Freddie asked.
Joe released a deep breath and wiped tears off his face. “My sister lives in Georgetown. I...I just talked to her an hour ago and told her she’s going to be an aunt.” He broke down again. “I can’t believe this has happened.”
“If you give me your sister’s number, I’ll call her for you,” Freddie said.
Sam was never more thankful to have him as her partner than in situations such as this, which required the gentle touch that came so naturally to him.
“Her name is Sarah.” Joe retrieved his phone, found his sister’s number and handed it to Freddie, who placed the call. He walked a short distance away so Joe wouldn’t have to hear him deliver the dreadful news to his sister.
“What do I do now?” Joe asked, looking up at Sam. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You could help by telling me where she was coming from.”
“She went out for happy hour with some of her colleagues. She joked this morning about how happy hour wouldn’t be quite so happy because she couldn’t drink for nine months. But it was her friend’s birthday, so she wanted to go for a little while. I told her I’d make dinner.” He shook his head in disbelief. “If she hadn’t gone out after work, this wouldn’t have happened.” Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “She would’ve been home two hours ago. She would’ve been safe.”
Sam suspected that twist of fate would haunt him for the rest of his life. She placed a hand on his shoulder, wishing there was more she could do to comfort him.
Freddie walked over to them, his expression bleak, indicating the phone call had been as dreadful as expected. “Your sister is on her way. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“She must be freaking out. They’re very close. They were... Very close.”
“She’s extremely upset. Her husband is coming with her.”
Joe nodded in acknowledgment and stared off into space.
Sam waved one of the EMTs over. “Have a look at him, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Stay with him until the sister gets here,” Sam said to Freddie.
“Will do.”
She walked over to meet Lindsey and Byron.
“Here we go again,” Lindsey said grimly. “What’ve we got?”
“A thirty-one-year-old named Melody Kramer who found out three days ago she was pregnant with her first child.”
“Damn it,” Lindsey said. “What the hell is going on tonight?”
“I don’t know, but we might be looking at the same perp for both shootings.” To Beckett, Sam said, “Any witnesses?”
“A young couple was also on the street when the shooting happened,” Beckett said. “We’ve asked them to wait to speak to you over there.” He pointed to a house across the street where the couple waited with another Patrol officer.
She crossed the street and nodded to the patrolman. To the couple, she extended her hand. “I’m Lieutenant Holland, MPD.”
“Yes, we know.” The woman blushed as she shook Sam’s hand. “I admire you so much.”
“Thank you. What’s your name?”
“Kelsey. This is my boyfriend, Charlie.” Petite with brown hair tinted pink on the ends, she had big brown eyes and mascara streaked from tears. Charlie had to be a foot taller than her, with longish dark hair and a complexion gone pale with shock. They were in their early twenties, or so Sam guessed.
Sam shook Charlie’s proffered hand. “Can you tell me what you saw?”
Kelsey took a deep breath. “We were about a block behind the lady who was shot when this car came flying down the street. It scared the hell out of us. Charlie grabbed me and pulled me in from the edge. There was a really loud boom, and the lady in front of us just went down. By the time we realized what’d happened, the car was long gone.”
“Did either of you get a look at the car?”
“It happened so fast,” Charlie said.
“Which end of the street did it come from?” Sam asked.
Kelsey pointed to the right side. “There.”
“And you were walking toward that intersection?”
They both nodded.
“If there’s anything at all you can tell me about the car, that would be incredibly helpful. Do either of you recall whether it was a sedan or a pickup or an SUV?”
“It was a car,” Kelsey said, seeming quite certain.
“Any idea what color it was?” Sam asked.
“It’s hard to say because the street was dark when it happened,” Charlie said, “but I think it was a dark color, like black or dark blue, maybe.”
“That helps. Thank you.” She gave them each a copy of her business card. “If you think of anything else, even the smallest detail, call me. We never know what’ll blow open a case like this.”
“We will.” A tremble went through Kelsey’s body, making her wobbly.
Charlie put his arm around her. “If that lady hadn’t been there, they might’ve shot at us.”
Kelsey broke down into tears. “It’s so awful.”
“Yes, it is.” They would probably suffer from the trauma for a long time. “Do either of you require medical attention?”
“No,” she said haltingly, looking up at Charlie. “I don’t think so.”
“We’re okay,” he said.
“You may want to consider some sort of counseling to deal with what you saw,” Sam said.
“We’ll think about that,”