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Authors: Marie Force

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Fatal Consequences (26 page)

BOOK: Fatal Consequences
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“You still think that even though you got suspended for hooking up with me in the middle of the investigation?”

“I’ve learned it’s not wise to resist that which is meant to be.”

“That’s very profound, Samantha.”

“And very true.”

“Very true indeed.” His arms tightened around her, and Sam drifted into sleep. What seemed like minutes later, her ringing cell phone woke her up. A glance at the digital clock on the bedside table told her it was just after three. Clearing her throat, Sam reached for the phone.

“Holland.”

“Oh, Sam!” Celia sounded frantic. “Thank God I reached you.”

Sam sat straight up in bed. “Is it Dad?”

“There’s a fire at your place! You need to get out of there!”

“Celia, we’re in Leesburg. What do you mean there’s a fire?”

Now Nick was also awake and sitting up.

“Thank goodness you’re not there.” Sam heard Celia telling her father they weren’t home. “Your place up the street,” Celia said. “The fire engines woke us up.”

“Oh my God.” To Nick, Sam said, “The place on Ninth is on fire.”

“Shit,” he said, leaping from the bed and pulling on jeans as Sam did the same.

“We’re on our way,” Sam told Celia. As she recalled the text threat from earlier, her stomach took a nosedive.

Minutes later, they left the cabin with Nick driving as fast as he dared.

“This is my fault,” Sam said after several tense minutes of silence.

“How do you figure?”

“I got a text earlier. They said because I didn’t back off the investigation like they told me to it was time to teach me a lesson.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough to look over at her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“After the day you’d had, I didn’t want you to worry.”

“If we’d been in the house, Sam, we could’ve been killed!”

“I realize that.”

“Who’re you calling?”

“Malone. He needs to know about this.”

“But I didn’t?” He shook his head. “Just when I think we’re really getting somewhere you go back to keeping things from me.”

After Sam had reported in to her superior officers, she turned to Nick. “I was going to tell you in the morning—after you got a good night’s sleep.”

“It’s a good thing I was sleeping in Leesburg and not on Ninth Street.”

“I’m sorry about the house,” she said.

He smacked the heel of his hand on the wheel, startling her. “I don’t
give a shit about the house, Sam
! It’s insured. Anything in there can be replaced. That’s not what you need to be apologizing about!”

“I’m trying.” After years of living with passive-aggressive Peter, Sam had become a pro at keeping things from her significant other. “I can’t completely change who I am overnight. I’m doing the best I can.”

“You need to do better.”

“Pardon me for thinking you’d had enough for one day.”

“You should’ve told me.”

Sam bit back a retort that would’ve escalated the disagreement to a full-blown argument, and they passed the rest of the ride in tense silence.

 

Emergency vehicles barricaded the entire block around their home. Nick grabbed the first spot he could find on the next block and took off running with Sam right behind him.

She flashed her badge to one of the firefighters. “Lieutenant Holland, MPD. This is my place. What’ve you got?”

“You got lucky, L.T. Someone called it in, and we got here before it got past the front room. You’ll have some smoke and water damage on the first floor as well as a broken window and front door, but that’s about it.”

“How’d it start?” Nick asked.

Looking from Nick to Sam and then back to Nick, the young firefighter’s eyes bugged. “Oh, Senator. Um, ah, let me grab my captain.”

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Sam said, staring at the house where smoke billowed from the broken window.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the house, Nick said nothing.

“Senator, Lieutenant, I’m Captain Grayson. Our investigator will be here shortly. Looks like something went through the window and ignited the carpet inside, but I’ll let the fire marshal give you the official findings.”

“So the window was broken from the outside?” Sam asked.

“That’s how it appears to us. You’re welcome to take a look.”

They followed him through the maze of police and firefighters and curious neighbors who were braving the cold to watch the proceedings. The exploding flash of a camera blinded Nick.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered. No doubt the vultures were loving this new story on top of his rant earlier in the day.

The stench of smoke and puddles of water greeted them inside the house where the floors, walls and ceiling closest to the front were damaged. He watched Sam zero in on the window as well as the smashed, fire-blackened glass on the floor.

“Some of the glass is too thick to be window glass,” she said. “Looks like some kind of bottle.”

“My guess,” the captain said, “is there will be traces of gas or some sort of accelerant in the bottle glass.” He turned to Sam. “Any idea who might’ve tossed a Molotov cocktail through your window?”

“I’m in the midst of a hot case, and I’ve been receiving threatening texts.”

“I’ve gotten one too,” Nick said.

“When was the most recent one?” the captain asked.

“A couple of hours ago. It inferred that it might be time to ‘teach me a lesson.’”

“Well, this certainly does make a statement,” a new voice said.

Sam and Nick turned to find Chief Farnsworth in the doorway.

“Are you both all right?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Sam said. “We weren’t here.”

“What’s this about threats?” he asked, giving Sam a stern-faced stare.

“I’ve reported them,” she said, clearing her throat. “Most of them. Sir.”

“Where’s your detail?”

“I sent them home for the night because I was staying in.”

“And yet you weren’t here when a fire broke out in your home.” Stepping further into the room, the chief bent to take a closer look at the glass on the floor. “I haven’t been a detective in years, Lieutenant, but if you weren’t here when the fire started then I have to deduce that you went somewhere.” He glanced up at Sam. “Without the detail your superior officers assigned to you until you close your current case. Is that possible?”

Apparently sensing trouble brewing, Captain Grayson headed for the door. “I’ll wait outside for the inspector.”

“I didn’t plan to go anywhere,” Sam said to the chief. “But Nick thought Senator O’Connor might be able to help with the case, so we went to Leesburg. Since we were there, we stayed at Nick’s place rather than drive all the way back to the city. Turned out to be a good thing we weren’t here.”

“That’s true, and I do appreciate your after-hours dedication. However, if you go
anywhere
again without your detail—until I say otherwise—I’ll have your badge. Am I clear?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat again. “Sir.”

“You’ll need to vacate the premises until the inspector finishes his work. I assume you’ll be at your father’s place?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll have your detail meet you there in the morning.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As they followed the chief out of the house, Sam grimaced, and Nick choked back a laugh. After what she’d kept from him earlier, he’d rather enjoyed watching the chief take her to task—not that he’d ever admit that to her.

Leaving the fire scene to the experts, Farnsworth escorted Sam and Nick to Skip’s house. He and Celia were waiting in the living room.

“Everyone all right?” Skip asked.

“We’re fine.” Sam bent to kiss her father’s forehead. “The damage to the house isn’t too bad.”

“That true, Joe?” Skip asked his old friend the chief.

“That’s how it looked to me.”

“Celia wouldn’t let me out to see for myself,” Skip said, glaring at his wife.

“It’s too cold out,” she said. “Not good for your lungs.”

Skip rolled his eyes at her.

“I’m going home,” Farnsworth said. To Sam, he added, “I’ll see you in the morning—with your detail.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good to see you newlyweds.”

“You too, Joe,” Skip said. “Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime.”

Sam turned on her father after the chief left. “
You called him?
What the hell for?”

“If someone’s throwing fire through my daughter’s window when she’s in the middle of a case, then he needs to know.”

“Thanks to you I got a major chewing out for being out without my detail.”

“Good,” Skip said. “You had no business leaving without them.”

Watching the exchange, Nick suspected that Sam had never given her detail a thought before they left for Leesburg. Neither of them had.

“What were you doing in Leesburg?” Celia asked.

“We went to see Senator O’Connor for background on the case,” Sam said. “We decided to stay at the cabin.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Celia said.

“Anything else you want to tell me?” Skip’s sharp eyes zeroed in on his daughter.

“The case is getting hot,” Sam said. “We’ve uncovered a call girl ring operating at the highest levels of the government. We’re arresting the vice president’s chief of staff in the morning.”

“You don’t say,” Skip said. “What’d he do?”

“We know he raped one woman, and we suspect he may be one of the organizers of the ring. If that turns out to be true, it certainly gives us a motive for murder.”

“I wonder what he’d be more interested in protecting,” Skip said. “The ring or his reputation.”

“A very good question,” Sam said. “One I hope to have answered by this time tomorrow.”

“Sounds like you two kids could use a place to sleep for a few hours,” Skip said. “Your old room is available.”

“Thanks,” Nick said.

“I’ll get you some towels,” Celia said, hustling up the stairs.

Sam consulted her watch. “I’ve got about two hours.”

“Go shut your eyes while you can,” Skip said. “Sounds like tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day.”

Chapter 28

Even though she badly needed the sleep, Sam lay awake in her old bedroom staring at the ceiling, thinking over every aspect of the case. This one had felt disjointed from the very beginning, with an early suspect in Lightfeather who’d ended up having an airtight alibi. Since then, they hadn’t had so much as a person of interest. Judging by the lengths the perp (or perps) had gone to by making personal attacks on two cops, however, it was clear someone was watching their every move.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Nick asked.

Sam turned to him. “Why aren’t you?”

“Someone threw fire in my window after threatening my fiancée. Stuff like that tends to make me a bit…anxious.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Yes,” he said, but she could tell by his tone that the true mad had passed.

She sighed. “I didn’t think you needed any more bad news.”

He looked over at her. “Don’t keep things from me, Sam. Please don’t.”

“Even when it might be what’s best for you?”

Reaching for her hand, he laced his fingers through hers. “What’s best for me is knowing what’s going on with you. Even the hard-to-hear stuff.”

“I’m trying really hard to be more forthcoming with you. I meant what I said earlier about not being able to change who I am overnight.”

“I’d never want to change who you are. I just want you to change this one little annoying habit…”


Annoying?

“Very. But luckily for you—and for me—you’re also annoyingly cute, distractingly sexy, and perfectly imperfect.”

Sam smiled. “Perfectly imperfect. I like that.” Rolling to her side, she kissed his chest and then his lips. “Try to get some sleep.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Sleep isn’t happening, so I’m going to get an early start.”

“With your detail.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I do so love the way you say that.”

Sam laughed as she pulled on jeans and a sweater. “Before this day is over, I may have to arrest the freaking speaker of the House—or better yet, the vice president. Not your typical day at the office.”

“Are any of your days at the office typical?”

Sam pretended to think about that for a minute. “Um, no, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She leaned over the bed to kiss him one last time.

He gripped a handful of her hair. “Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

“More so than usual today.”

“I promise.” She kissed him again. “Gotta go.”

 

Nick went to survey the damage at the house, hoping he could get in to get clothes for work. The crime scene tape had been removed, and all that remained was the charred exterior and broken front door. A lone police officer stood watch outside.

“Am I allowed in?” Nick asked the officer.

“Yes, sir, Senator. The fire inspector has cleared the scene. They asked me to keep an eye on things because the door was broken and because of the threat the lieutenant received.”

“Thanks for that.” A few of their favorite reporters would no doubt love to gain access to their house if given an easy opportunity.

“Looks like quite a mess you’ve got there, Senator.”

Nick turned to find a man he’d seen around the neighborhood. He was young with dark blond hair that could use a cut and a friendly, engaging smile.

“Craig Lowry,” he said, extending his hand.

“Nick Cappuano. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. What happened?”

“Molotov cocktail, or so I’m told.”

“You gotta hate when that happens.”

Nick laughed. “This kind of thing happens far too often in our lives.”

“So I’ve read. Not sure if it would help, but I’m a contractor. I’d be happy to squeeze you in.”

“That’d be great. Are you sure you have time?”

Craig shot him a sly grin. “Landing this job will put me on the map. I think I can make some time.”

Amused, Nick said, “Let me show you what needs to be done.”

Craig followed him inside and marveled—as most visitors did—at the size of the double townhouse. As they inspected the damage and discussed the work that needed to be done, Craig whipped out his measuring tape and made notes in a pad he pulled from his pocket.

“Is this related to one of your fiancée’s cases?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“I’ve seen her around. Her dad is the one that’s paralyzed, right?”

“Yes.” Nick contemplated the damaged doorway. “Let me run something by you…”

“Sure.”

“How hard would it be to install a ramp? I’ve been thinking that Sam will want to have her father over at some point.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult. A buddy of mine works in the city’s permitting office. I could run it by him for you, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem when I tell him about her dad.”

“Would he be doing a special favor because, you know, of who we are?” Such things still made Nick uncomfortable, and he knew how Sam felt about special favors too. In this case, however, she’d probably make an exception.

“Maybe a little. But Skip Holland is a hero in this city. They’d do anything for him.” Craig gestured to the door. “The whole frame and stoop will need to be replaced anyway, so it’s the perfect time to demo the stairs and do the ramp.”

“Absolutely.” Nick shook his hand. “Do it. As soon as possible.”

“Pending building inspection approval, I can have the stairs mostly out by the end of the day. You’ll have to use the back door for a while.”

“That’s no problem.”

“Do you need to wait for the insurance company?”

Nick shook his head. “Just do it. I’ll pay whatever. I’d like to forget this ever happened.”

“You got it, Senator. I’m on it.”

 

Sam indulged in a rare cup of coffee to give her a badly needed jolt after the nearly sleepless night. She logged into her email, looking for a report on Selina’s clothes from the lab. “Crap,” she said. “Nothing yet. That’s all right, Jack.” She called up the computer rendering of Jack Bartholomew. “I’ve got you on a victim ID. We’ll do a lineup, and then we’ll have you nailed. But I have a feeling Selina is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Talking to yourself, Lieutenant?”

Sam looked up to find Lieutenant Stahl standing in the doorway. “What do you want?”

“Heard you had some excitement at your place last night.”

“How’d you hear that? Were you there?”

His eyes narrowed at the insinuation. “You’d love that wouldn’t you?”

“To have you out of my life forever? Sure, throw a cocktail through my window. By all means.”

“I’d never give you the satisfaction.”

“I’ll get it some other way. Eventually.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re going to get it with Gibson.”

“I’ll get him too. Assholes like the two of you always end up where they belong.”

Stahl’s rotund face turned the unhealthy shade of purple that so often colored his conversations with Sam. “You can have the last word. I’ve already gotten what I want today.”

What the hell did that mean? “Good for you. Unlike those of you in the rat squad, I have real work to do, so if you don’t mind…”

“Have a great day, Lieutenant.” He left her with a creepy smile that made her crave a shower.

“Dick,” she whispered. She’d suspected he’d had something to do with Peter’s pending release. Now she was all but sure of it. Once she had a minute to call her own, she’d look into what role her nemesis had played. Until then, she had a murdering rapist to catch. With that in mind, she printed out photos of the vice president, the speaker of the House, Senator Robert Cook and three other members of Congress who were not involved in the investigation. To ensure that her photo array held up in court, six was the magic number. She took the photos with her to the safe house where Freddie had stashed Selina.

On her way out, she ran into Freddie. “You’re here early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Sam knew the feeling.

“I’m glad I caught you,” he said. “Crime scene found something in Regina’s stuff that you’ll want to see.” He produced a plastic bag with a Valentine card opened to the inside. In it, Regina had written the message in Spanish.

Freddie translated for her, “My darling Henry, how did I ever get so lucky to find you? I love you so much and I can’t wait to meet our baby. Forever yours, Regina.”

Sam thought of how despondent Henry had been upon hearing of Regina’s involvement in the call girl ring. She was oddly relieved to know that Henry’s entire life hadn’t blown up in his face just so Regina might be able to stay in the country after her baby was born.

“What do you want me to do with it?” Freddie asked.

“Take it to him.”

“Keep it as evidence?”

Sam shook her head. “I’m going to talk to Selina again. I’ll catch up to you after.”

“Sounds good.”

At 5:20 in the morning, the city’s streets were all but deserted, but Sam still kept a close eye on the rearview mirror to make sure she wasn’t being followed by anyone other than the two officers in the unmarked sedan behind her—as if that wasn’t a dead giveaway to anyone who might be watching her.

Outside the house, two officers stood watch. Even though she knew them, Sam still showed them her badge and gave them a moment to thoroughly study it, as they were required to do.

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks.”

Sam found Selina on the sofa in the living room, curled up under a blanket nursing a cup of tea.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Selina asked.

“Someone tossed a Molotov cocktail through the window at my house last night. Do you know what that is?”

Eyes wide with fear, Selina nodded. “Was anyone hurt?”

Sam took a seat across from her. “Fortunately, my fiancé and I weren’t home at the time.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you know why I told you that?”

Selina shook her head.

“Because I want you to know that these people aren’t above throwing fire into the home of a high-ranking police officer and a United States senator. Did I mention my fiancé is a senator?”

Selina swallowed hard and shook her head again.

Sam placed the six photos she’d brought on the coffee table. “Have you ever provided sexual services for any of these men?”

A tear rolled down Selina’s cheek. Judging by the raw redness of her eyes, it wasn’t the first she’d shed during that long night. “Him,” she said, pointing to the speaker. A shudder rippled through her petite frame. “And him.” Grimacing, she gestured to Cook.

“What about him?”

“No. I haven’t had sex with the vice president of the United States.”

“Well,” Sam said. “That’s a relief. The speaker of the House of Representatives and the senior senator from Virginia will be enough for one morning.”

Selina gasped. “
Oh, my God!
I didn’t know!
I didn’t know who they were!

“I know that, Selina, and they knew it too. In fact, that’s exactly why they recruited immigrant women.” Sam heard the click of the final pieces fitting into place. “It was
because
you wouldn’t recognize them. They were counting on that. Even though some of you worked on Capitol Hill, you probably didn’t pay much attention to politics.”

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“I need you to testify.”

“I can’t do that! I can’t have my family find out how I really got the money. I could never live with the shame of that.”

“Could you live with another woman being murdered or raped because you didn’t help me stop these bastards?”

Tears streamed down the young woman’s face. “How can this be happening? I just wanted to save my mother…I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I can help you, Selina, but I need to know I can count on your testimony before I arrest Bartholomew.” Sam paused to let her words sink in before she went for the jugular. “You’ll have to pick him out of a lineup of men and then testify against him in court. You’ll have to recount—in detail—what he did to you.”

Hand to mouth to muffle her sobs, Selina shook her head.

“If you refuse to testify, Selina, my case against Bartholomew will hinge on whether he left any DNA on your clothing the night of the attack. And even if he did, the assistant U.S. attorney may refuse to prosecute without your testimony. That means he goes free to do this to someone else. He continues to get away with victimizing women while holding a lofty government job.”

Selina’s muffled sobs echoed through the silent room.

“I need you, Selina. Regina and Maria need you.”


Regina can go to the devil!
This is all her fault.”

“Maybe so, but she helped you find a way to pay for your mother’s surgery. And trust me when I tell you that no one deserves what was done to her. No one.”

Sam sat very still and let Selina think it through as the other woman continued to weep bitterly.

“I went to college, you know? In Belize. I got a degree in business, and I came here hoping to make something of myself.” She swiped at her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “But when I got here, it was so bad. No one would hire me because I wasn’t a citizen or because they had someone better. I was lucky to get the job with the cleaning company.”

“I’m sure you worked very hard,” Sam said, trying to be patient.

“I worked until my hands ached and my fingers were blistered and sore. I worked overtime and weekends, but it wasn’t enough. If only my mother hadn’t gotten sick. None of this would be happening.”

“My father was shot two years ago,” Sam said. “He was a police officer doing a routine traffic stop and was shot by the driver. He’s paralyzed and in a wheelchair. We still don’t know who did it, and sometimes when I think that whoever shot him is out there going on with his or her life while he’s stuck in that chair…” Sam’s throat tightened with emotion. “I understand that you’d do anything you could for your mother. I get that.”

“Even something illegal?”

“Whatever you had to do.”

“Will I be charged?”

“I’ll talk to the assistant U.S. attorney about immunity for you as soon as I leave here. But first I need to know if I can count on you to testify. That’ll be her first question.”

“How do I go into a public court and tell people what that animal did to me? How do I do that?”

BOOK: Fatal Consequences
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