Текст книги "Fatal Scandal"

Автор книги: Marie Force

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“Anything except murder,” Sam said. “I know him as well as I know anyone, and I’d bet my badge and my career on his innocence. Besides, one of the reasons he’s still out of work is that the strength in his arm has yet to return. I doubt he’d be physically capable of manually strangling anyone.”

“He’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” Conklin said, apparently dismissing her argument, “between the wound that’s taking a long time to heal and the revelations about his connection to the judge. People have done crazier things than commit murder when they’re under that kind of strain.”

“What’s crazier than murder?” Sam asked, adding, “sir,” as an afterthought.

“Deputy Chief Conklin’s point is well taken,” Farnsworth said.

By whom? Sam wanted to ask, but didn’t. “We’re running the risk of the FBI and others thinking we can’t handle our own cases. We’ve called them in on the last few.”

“As I recall,” Conklin said, “you were more than happy to have Agent Hill’s help in your niece’s case.”

“That was different,” Sam said.

“How so?” Conklin asked. “Because it was personal? This one is personal to Gonzales. He had a child with the woman, and she’s been making very public trouble for him. Now she’s dead, and his alibi is his fiancée. You know as well as I do how this will play in the press, Lieutenant. Bringing in the FBI to consult covers our asses, which are already on the line right now.”

It was somewhat out of character for Conklin to raise his voice, which told Sam the strain was wearing on him too. “Fine, if you all think we need the Feds, call the Feds. But this investigation will not lead to Sergeant Gonzales.”

“If there is even the slightest hint of his involvement, we’re out of it,” Farnsworth said. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal. May I get back to work?”

“Go ahead,” Farnsworth said.

Sam left the office and ran square into the inquiring gaze of the chief’s admin. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to him one-on-one, but I will as soon as I can. I agree he looks a little gray.”

“He’s not himself.”

“He’s under an awful lot of pressure right now. Try not to worry too much. He always comes through.” The thought of him not coming through was something Sam couldn’t accommodate in her already overloaded brain.

The admin nodded, but she didn’t seem reassured.

“I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll check in with him later.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Sam left the chief’s suite and headed for the pit, crossing the lobby with a growing feeling of anxiety. Her phone rang and she took a call from inside HQ. “Holland.”

“This is Haggerty.”

“What’ve you got?” she asked the Crime Scene Unit’s lieutenant in charge.

“Any idea why there’d be a slip of paper with Sergeant Gonzales’s home address under the floor mat in our vic’s car?”

Sam felt like she’d been gut-punched. “I have some idea, but I can’t get into it at the moment. Add it to the evidence list. Anything else of interest in the car?”

“Nothing yet. I’ll have the report to you by tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll take it sooner if you can do it.”

“We’ll try. I’d rather be thorough than fast.”

Sam held back the snapping retort that lingered on the tip of her tongue and slapped her phone closed. “What the fuck?” she muttered under her breath as she went into her office and closed the door to call Gonzo.

He answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“Tell me something.”

“Sure.”

“Have you had any contact with Lori since that day in court when you won custody?”

“I’ve left her a couple of messages about seeing Alex, but she never called me back. I was trying, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Crime Scene found a slip of paper with your name and address under the floor mat of the car.”

He was silent as he processed the new information.

“You gotta help me out here, Gonzo. Who else would have motive to kill her?”

“How the hell should I know? I barely knew her!”

“Think, Gonzo. Think long and hard. Give me a thread to pull.” She could almost hear him thinking over the phone.

“Rex Connolly. He’s the dude she was with when I first found out about Alex. Supposedly she’s not with him anymore, but he might know something about her life. He’s in the system—drugs, B&E, sealed juvie record if I’m remembering correctly. Lori was in the system too. Drug charges.”

“This is good.”

“The social worker who oversaw the custody case, Justine Travers. She recently got married, and that’s her new last name. She works for the courts and spent a lot of time with Lori during the case. And my friend, Mark Angelo. He was with me the night I met her, and he knew her before. His sister, Sara, was close with Lori. I could give him a call.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll call him. Text me the number.”

“All right.”

“This helps a lot. It gives us somewhere to start.”

“When are you going public with Lori’s name?”

“Not until we absolutely have to. Where are you?”

“Almost to my parents’ place in Harper’s Ferry.”

“Stay there until you hear from me. You understand? Do not move from there.”

“I won’t.”

“We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”

“I’m counting on that.”

“I’ll call you later.” Sam stashed the phone in her pocket, grabbed her keys and coat and headed for the pit. “Cruz! With me.”

“Coming.”

“McBride!”

Jeannie McBride popped up from her cubicle. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Find me Rex Connolly.” She passed along the information Gonzo had given her about Rex’s record. “Text me a current address.”

“I’m on it,” Jeannie said.

“Everyone else, report in to Cruz in the next fifteen minutes with where you are.”

Murmured replies of “Yes, ma’am” and “Got it, LT,” from the subdued group followed her command.

Chapter Seven

Freddie donned his ever-present trench coat and ran after her, his mouth full of something. His mouth was always full of something, usually donuts or other junk that never added a single pound to his lean physique. “Where we going?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s gross.”

“If I didn’t talk with my mouth full, I’d never talk.”

Sam snorted out a laugh at that truth. “We’re going to Bowie to talk to George Phillips, owner of the car that Lori was driving.”

“Are we going to tell him she’s dead?”

“I want to know who he is to her before I tell him anything.”

“Does the brass know who the vic is to Gonzo?”

“Yep and they’re bringing in the Feds to babysit us to make sure we don’t step over any lines.”

“I feel like the Feds are underfoot a lot lately.”

“So do I, and I said as much to them, but I was overruled.”

With Sam at the wheel and Freddie punching the address into the GPS on his phone, they headed out of the parking lot and into midday traffic in the District. “Why can’t we do something about the gridlock in this city?” Sam asked.

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m serious. If we can put men on the moon, why can’t we figure out an efficient way to move cars through a modern, cosmopolitan city?”

“You raise a good question.”

“Why is it even like this today? It’s a freaking holiday.”

“Caps are playing at home this afternoon.”

“Awesome. It’s going to take us an hour at this rate to get to Route 50. While we’re stopping and going, see if you can track down a social worker named Justine Travers. She works for the District Court. Try Faith Miller. She’ll know how to reach her.”

“You do remember it’s a holiday, right?”

“Of course I do. I’m supposed to still be in bed with my husband right now.”

“Ew.”

“Oh my God! Like you’re one to talk, Mr. All-Sex-All-The-Time.”

Snorting with laughter, he said, “It’s not all the time.”

“Whatever you say.”

While she dealt with the aggravation of trying to get anywhere in D.C., he took to the phone, working their network to locate Ms. Travers.

“Hi, Faith, sorry to bother you. This is Freddie Cruz. Do you have a second?” After a pause, he said, “We’re trying to get in touch with a social worker named Justine Travers. Do you have a number for her?” Another pause and then he began writing. “Thank you so much. Sorry again to bother you.”

After he ended the call, Sam said, “She didn’t ask you why you wanted to know?”

“I think she was going to, but I bailed out before she could.”

“Good job. Call the social worker.”

“That’s what I was doing before you started quizzing me.”

Sam took her eyes off the road long enough to glower at him. “You got any more of those donuts?”

While he waited for Justine to answer the phone, he pulled an unopened pack of white-powdered donuts from his coat pocket and handed it to her.

“I hate you for this.”

“You don’t hate me. You love me.”

“Right now, I hate you.”

“Saint John said, ‘Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness.’”

“That’s me. Empress of the dark. I do my best work in the dark.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Hi, Justine? This is Detective Cruz from the Metro PD. I wondered if you might be available this afternoon to answer a few questions about one of your clients?”

Sam held her breath while she waited to hear what Justine had to say.

“Lori Phillips,” Freddie said. “Yes, I understand that her custody battle was with one of my colleagues. It’s important or I wouldn’t have bothered you on a holiday.” He glanced at Sam. “We’ll get a warrant. I’ll call you back when we have it.”

Before he’d ended his call, she was on the phone with Malone to get the warrant moving. “This might be a tough sell,” Malone said.

“She has more information about Lori’s life today than probably anyone else. We need her, Cap.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Let me know.”

Forty-five minutes after they left HQ, they finally took the exit for Route 50, heading east toward the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. They arrived in Bowie twenty-five minutes later. “Who has ninety fucking minutes to spend battling traffic so they can do their goddamn job?” Sam asked as she pulled up to George Phillips’s residence.

“Language, Lieutenant,” her Bible-thumping partner said disapprovingly.

“I agree that traffic is a dirty word.”

“That’s not the dirty word I was referring to, as you well know.”

“Job. That’s another dirty word on a holiday that I was supposed to be spending with my goddamn family.”

“Sam! Come on.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I got carried away.”

They headed for the front door of the white ranch house. Sam rang the bell. “I hope he’s home after we came all this way.” She pounded on the glass storm door.

The inside door swung open, and the man went from annoyed to pissed off when they showed their gold badges. “What do you want?” he asked through the door.

“A few minutes of your time,” Sam said.

“I ain’t got a few minutes. I gotta go to work.”

“We can take you into custody, which would ensure you’d miss work.”

He gave her one of those looks that would be deadly if looks could kill. She got a lot of them during a good day on the job. The door was pushed open, narrowly missing Sam’s face. “Hurry up about it.”

“Are you George Phillips?”

“Yeah, so?” His greasy hair was combed over his mostly bald head and tattoos covered his forearms. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in days, and the house smelled stale and musty.

“I’m Lieutenant Holland, and this is my partner, Detective Cruz. Metro PD.”

“You’re the vice president’s old lady.”

Freddie snorted and then covered it with a cough.

George looked around them, trying to see outside. “Where’s your Secret Service?”

Sam gritted her teeth and pressed on. “How’re you related to Lori Phillips?”

“Is she in trouble again? I told her after the last time not to call me. I’m through with her and her nonstop drama.”

“Answer the question.”

“She’s my sister. My younger sister.”

“When was the last time you saw or talked to her?”

“She was at my ma’s house on Christmas. But I didn’t really talk to her. She was all pissed off about losing custody of her kid, so I kept my distance. Why? What’s she done now?”

“Can you tell me how she happened to be in possession of a car you own?”

“What’d she do to my car? I swear to God—”

“She’s dead, Mr. Phillips. She was found strangled in your car this morning.”

“W-what? She’s dead? Lori’s dead.”

“Yes. I’m sorry to have to tell you the bad news.”

He seemed to stagger backward before he recovered his bearings and moved to a sofa in the front room. With his head in his hands, he said, “How?”

“She was manually strangled.”

“Who would’ve done that? What about that cop she was battling with over the kid?”

“He has an alibi.”

“Of course he does. That guy hates her guts. Who else would benefit from her being dead more than him?”

“That’s what we’d like to know.”

“It’s him! It has to be him! She was making trouble for him! It was all over the news. He was in bed with that judge, and he cheated her out of her baby.”

“Mr. Phillips, Detective Sergeant Gonzales is a decorated police officer. We have no reason whatsoever to suspect him.”

“Sure, you don’t,” he said bitterly. “My sister never had a chance against that decorated police officer who used his connections to steal her baby away from her.”

Sam glanced at Freddie, who gave her a look that told her his thinking matched hers—they were wasting their time here.

“I’d like to know who else Lori had problems with.”

He shook his head. “No one that I know of.”

“Would your mother know?”

Shrugging, he said, “Doubtful. Lori didn’t air out her troubles with us. We went for months without even knowing where she was. Turns out she was in rehab.”

“Why did she have your car?”

“I let her borrow it while hers was in the shop. I have a truck from work, so it was no problem to let her have it for a few days.”

“We’ll need someone to identify and claim the body after the autopsy is completed. Would you be able to do that?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said with a sigh. “Better me than my ma.”

Sam handed him the notebook she carried with her. “Can you write down your phone number so we can notify you?”

He took the notebook from her, wrote the number and handed it back to her. “Did she suffer?”

Sam hated that question and never knew exactly how to answer it—truth, partial truth or outright lie? Of course she’d suffered. She’d been murdered. “Some, maybe, but we can hope it was over quickly.”

He nodded, seeming somewhat satisfied with that. “I hate to ask about my car...”

“It’ll be released to you as soon as it’s been fully processed.”

“Thank you.”

Sam handed him her card. “Please call me if you think of anything else that might be relevant to our investigation.”

“I will.”

“The first few hours of a homicide investigation are extremely critical, so we ask that you refrain from speaking publicly about your sister’s murder until we release her name.”

“I assume I can tell my ma?”

“Yes, but please ask her to refrain from any public statements, as well.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sam and Freddie left the house and returned to the car.

“You think they’ll keep a lid on it?” Freddie asked.

“I certainly hope so. The longer we can keep the media out of this, the better our chances of figuring out who killed her before the press ruins Gonzo’s life.” Sam’s phone rang with a 202 number she didn’t recognize. “Holland.”

“Mrs. Cappuano?”

Sam winced at the rarely used salutation. “That’s me.”

“This is Lilia Van Nostrand.”

“Who?”

“Your chief of staff, ma’am.”

She sent a baffled glance to Freddie. “My chief of what?”

“Staff. At the White House?”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” After a long, uncomfortable pause, Sam said, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m calling about our staff meeting tomorrow at nine a.m.”

“We have a staff meeting tomorrow at nine a.m.?”

“Yes, I left a message last week about it.”

“Sorry, I didn’t get it.” She grimaced at Freddie, who hid a smile behind his hand.

“Can you make the meeting?”

“No, I’m sorry I can’t. I’ll be working at nine tomorrow morning on a homicide investigation.” In other words, important stuff, Sam thought.

“Oh, well, this is a dilemma indeed. Your staff is looking forward to meeting you and receiving direction from you.”

“How did I end up with a ‘staff’ anyway?”

“We worked for Mrs. Gooding, and Mrs. Nelson assumed you’d appreciate the guidance of a seasoned second lady staff.”

Mrs. Nelson assumed, did she? “Could I call you back? I’m right in the middle of something at the moment.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

“Right. Okay. Bye then.” She slapped the phone closed. “Oh my freaking God.”

“Sam.”

“What? Mentioning the name God is not taking His name in vain. That was my chief of staff at the freaking White House wanting to know if I’ll be at the nine a.m. staff meeting in the morning. I have a freaking staff.”

“Don’t you mean another freaking staff?” Freddie asked, pointing to himself.

“This is not a joking matter.”

“Oh, but it is. It really, really is.”

Glaring at him, she said, “Shut up.” She opened the phone and hit the name of the person who was usually number one on her list of favorites.

Nick answered on the third ring, sounding out of breath. “Hey, babe.”

“What’re you doing that has you breathing hard?”

“Working out,” he said with a laugh, “so get your mind out of the gutter.”

“My mind is nowhere near the gutter. It’s actually at the White House.”

“Huh?”

“I just got a call from a fancy-sounding dame with a fancy-sounding name who claims to be my ‘chief of staff.’ Know anything about that?”

“I heard they were retaining Mrs. Gooding’s staff for you in case you wanted an experienced team. I told you that.”

“Um, when did you tell me that?”

“I don’t know the exact date and time, but we had a conversation about this.”

“Was I asleep? Unconscious? In a sex-induced coma perhaps?”

“Ugh, jeez,” Freddie mumbled. “Young ears.”

Sam made a face at him while Nick laughed at her question. “You were wide awake and appeared to be listening.”

“Well, I wasn’t! And now I’ve got Lilly Von Noodle calling me about meetings at the White House! I don’t want to go to meetings at the White House!”

“That’s not her name, is it?”

“How the hell do I know what her name is? I’ve never heard of her until she called to tell me she’s my so-called chief of staff. Joe Farnsworth is my chief of staff—the only one I need.”

“Samantha, take a breath, will you please?”

“Don’t use that tone with me. I’m not a child.”

“Okay, don’t breathe then, but don’t call me when you pass out.”

“Nick, this isn’t funny! These people expect me to come to a meeting to give them ‘direction.’ What direction am I supposed to give them? And hello, I have a job and a homicide to contend with that indirectly involves one of my closest colleagues while my actual chief is fighting for his career. I don’t have time for this!”

“I’ll talk to Nelson’s people and see what we can do, okay?”

“Yes, okay, as long as you get me out of any meetings over there.”

“I’ll do what I can, but we did talk about you taking on a minor role as second lady before we agreed to accept Nelson’s offer.”

“A minor role doesn’t include staff, Nick!”

“Yes, it does,” he said with a low chuckle that infuriated her even further if that was possible. “Who do you think will do all the work?”

“What work is involved in a minor role?”

“Babe, can we talk about this when you get home?”

“There’s that tone again.”

“What? All I’m saying is I’d rather talk to my wife in person than on the phone when she is upset and yelling at me. How is that a tone?”

“All right, fine. I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

“Great, I’ll look forward to it.”

“I will not.”

“I thought you always looked forward to talking to me.”

“Not about this crap.”

“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”

“I’m supposed to call the Von Noodle lady back. What do I do about that?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“No meeting tomorrow.”

“Got it.”

“Are you patronizing me?” she asked.

“Would I dare do that to my lovely wife who comes packing heat?”

At that, Sam finally cracked a grin and gave a small snort of laughter.

“Are you better now?” he asked.

She was always better after she talked to him, but no way was she going to tell him that when she was still pissed about getting calls from the White House. The freaking White House!

“Samantha? Are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

“Are you plotting my death by rusty steak knife?”

“Not currently, but I reserve the right to break out my steak knife later.”

“Duly noted. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Love you, babe. Be careful out there.”

“Always am. You too, on the other thing.”

“The other thing,” he said, ending the call laughing.

Sam was also smiling when she stashed her phone.

“Did he talk you down off the cliff?”

“You’re being very sassy today, Detective. Is that your New Year’s resolution? To sass your superior officer as much as possible?”

“No, actually it was to sass my friend Sam as often as possible.”

“I liked you better when you were afraid of me.”

“And when was that exactly?”

When Sam’s phone rang again, she looked at the caller ID with trepidation and was relieved to see a number she recognized. She took the call on speaker so Freddie could hear too. “Speak to me.”

“Got the tox screen back on Lori Phillips,” Lindsey said. “Her BAC was 0.18 and we found traces of cocaine in her nose and in the blood work.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “So much for rehab.”

“We also found signs of recent sexual activity.”

“DNA?”

“Running it now.”

“Do you suspect rape?”

“There was no trauma, so it’s possible it was consensual.”

“I really want to know where our girl was yesterday. Thanks, Lindsey. Let me know when the DNA is in.”

“Will do.”

Sam hung up with Lindsey and called Archie. “Where are we with the dump on the phone Cruz brought in this morning?”

“Smartphones take about eight hours, which of course you know.”

“I need text data as soon as you have it. I’m trying to figure out where my vic spent her final hours.”

“Will get it to you as soon as I have it.”

“Thanks, Archie.”

“While I have you, I need to schedule a time to get your squad trained on the new tablet system we’ll be implementing this month.”

“What tablet system?”

“Do you read your email, Sam?” he asked with a laugh.

The men in her life were amusing themselves at her expense today. “Occasionally.”

“I sent an email weeks ago to all the squad commanders asking them to schedule their training. I just noticed that you haven’t scheduled yours yet.”

“We don’t need tablets. We’re good with what we’ve got.”

“It’s mandatory, Sam. We all have to do it.”

“Why are we being forced to take on something new that we don’t need?”

“You’re going to love it once you get used to it.”

“No, I won’t. I still have a flip phone, and I like it that way.”

“Ouch,” Archie said with an audible wince. “Take it up with the brass. Until then, email me a couple of dates to get with your squad. I need about four hours.”

“Four hours?”

“Gotta go. I’m watching your security film.”

“Fine.”

“Email the times. By tomorrow.”

Sighing, Sam closed her phone and juggled it between her hands. “Did you know they’re making us use tablets in the field now?”

“I can’t wait. We’ll be able to file reports from anywhere, access the system from anywhere, run prints. It’s going to be awesome.”

An absolutely brilliant idea occurred to Sam. People were always telling her to delegate. Normally, she’d push this dreaded task off on Gonzo as her second in command, but since he was out of commission, Freddie was the next best thing. “I’m putting you in charge of working with Archie to get our squad trained on the stupid things.”

He blanched. “Does that mean I have to deal with getting you trained too?”

She graced him with her most charming smile. “Yep. Not that I expect to ever use it since my partner is so excited about it.”

“Oh my God.”

“Freddie! The Lord’s name! How dare you?”

“You drive me to it.”

“You’ll get with Archie by tomorrow to set it up. Yes?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Excellent.”