Every Second

33

Santa Ana, California

Lieutenant Sean Baylor came around his desk and greeted FBI agent Wade Darden with a crushing handshake.

“Have a seat, Wade. Got everything right here.”

Darden, the Bureau’s resident agent for Orange County, was handling the FBI’s urgent request for the Santa Ana PD to share the personnel records of Lori Wallace, a former officer with the force.

Several file folders waited on the small table where Darden and Baylor pored over them.

“Okay, from the top. We’ve got her application-she was married to Dan Fulton at the time but kept her family name, Wallace. There’s her education file. She’s got a degree in criminology from Cal State,” Baylor said.

Turning over file pages, Darden took his time, reading carefully through Lori Wallace’s background investigation, her personal history statement and her psychological evaluation, which included a written exam and an interview with a psychologist.

“She passed her medical and excelled on physical agility, the wall, the long pursuit and the body drag. High scores at the range, too,” Baylor said.

They continued flipping pages that reflected an exemplary career.

“In the four years she was on the job she was mostly on patrol. She’d received several commendations. Letters of thanks from the community,” Baylor said. “She took a little time off when she had her baby, came back to more commendations.”

They turned to pages documenting new assignments.

“She did outstanding investigative work and was on track to become a detective,” Baylor said. “Then it all turned to crap. It’s the next folder, Wade.”

Darden opened the red folder of reports, pages of statements, maps, drawings, photographs and a list of other items relating to one homicide and a police-involved shooting.

“Wallace and her partner, Tim Rowland, a seven-year veteran, are on overnight patrol,” Baylor said. “They roll up to a corner store for a coffee and come upon an armed robbery in progress. As they step out of their patrol car, the suspect, who had just robbed the clerk of one hundred and sixty-one dollars, is exiting and firing a handgun into the store, hitting a pregnant woman in the arm. Rowland reacts, reaches for his sidearm but the shooter beats him, getting off three rounds, hitting Rowland in the jaw, neck and shoulder above his vest. Rowland stumbles back, collapsing into Wallace, who manages to catch him while drawing her weapon and firing at the suspect.

“The suspect fires more rounds at Rowland, who is now a shield for Wallace, enabling her to fire repeatedly at the suspect, hitting him in the head and heart, killing him while Rowland dies on top of her in her arms. That’s what happened. Much of it was caught on the store’s security cameras. I’ll get you a copy of the videos.”

Darden stared at the photos, shaking his head in awe.

“That’s one hell of a firefight, Sean.”

“The investigators say it all went down in four or five seconds. It’s all there in the report.”

Darden turned to the next folder and Baylor continued his story.

“She surrendered her weapon, homicide took over and all procedures were followed to the letter with regard to a police-involved shooting.”

The next reports showed that Wallace took leave with pay and underwent counseling.

“The district attorney’s office called it a righteous shooting and Wallace was cleared of any wrongdoing,” Baylor said.

Reports showed that five months later, Wallace returned to patrol with a new partner but had trouble concentrating on the job.

“One day, they were backing up other units, pursuing a suspect reportedly armed with a gun after a domestic. Wallace had taken a point at the side of the house. When they called on her to move, she didn’t respond. She just froze. They found her on her knees, sobbing and calling out Rowland’s name. She took another leave from duty after that.”

Wallace underwent more intense therapy, according to the files. The next reports showed that her posttraumatic stress after Rowland’s murder was more severe than first thought. The final document showed that she’d resigned from the department.

“It was a shame because she was about to make detective,” Baylor said. “To help get her life back together, her husband sought a transfer and accepted a post with the branch in Roseoak Park in Queens. They wanted a fresh start. He helped Lori get a job investigating fraudulent claims at Dixon Donlevy Mutual Life Insurance.”

Darden read the glowing letter of recommendation Santa Ana’s police chief had written to the company on her behalf.

Flipping back through the files he shook his head, stopping to reread her psychological reports detailing how she was grappling with survivor’s guilt and guilt over the killing of the twenty-five-year-old suspect, Malcolm Jordan Samadyh.

“Do you have anything on the shooter?” he asked.

“Blue folder,” Baylor said.

Darden studied Samadyh’s file. He had a long criminal record. When he was twenty, he was sentenced to three years for robbery at Tehachapi, the state prison in Southern California’s Cummings Valley.

His mother, an English teacher, had been born in a war-torn tribal region of Afghanistan where she’d met Malcolm’s father, an American aid worker from Los Angeles. They’d moved to California, gotten married and she became a US citizen. She’d given birth to Malcolm soon after and then his younger brother.

According to his file, Malcolm had been fourteen when his dad was killed in a traffic accident. Apparently he’d never gotten over it-instead he’d gotten into trouble, joining a gang, which led to crime, prison and, eventually, his death.

Just as he was closing the binder, Darden stopped cold. He’d almost missed it.

Flipping back through the shooter’s file, he found the records showing that, while in prison, Malcolm had taken his mother’s family name. Malcolm’s father’s name was Andrew Blaine.

Malcolm’s little brother was Jerricko Titus Blaine.

Darden reached for his phone.