Fatal Flaw (31 page)

“You call Sam and me by our first names.”

“That’s different.”

Leaning against the vanity in the bathroom, Nick crossed his arms. “How is that different?”

“It’s you and Sam. You’re different.”

A warm sense of rightness filled Nick as he studied the boy he’d come to love so much. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.” He ventured a glance up at Nick. “I was thinking about what you said. Yesterday.”

Play it cool,
Nick thought. “What about it?”

“Well, there’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anything because we’re friends. You’ve already done so much for me.”

“Whatever it is, all you have to do is ask. I’ll never think you’re taking advantage of me. Why do you think I asked you to come live with me? Sam and I want to do everything for you.” So much for playing it cool.

“That’s so nice of you. I still can’t believe you guys feel that way about me.”

“Well, we do, and here’s something else you need to know—our love and our friendship is forever. No matter what you decide about coming to live with us, we’ll always be there for you in whatever capacity you want.”

“That’s really cool,” Scotty said softly, his big brown eyes shining with unshed tears.

Looking to lighten the moment, Nick ruffled his dark hair. “Now, take advantage of me. What do you want to ask?”

Scotty hesitated for a moment and then took a deep breath. “One of my friends at school is going to this insanely cool baseball day camp in D.C. this summer. It’s three weeks, and I’m sure it’s too expensive—”

“Of course you can go. I don’t care how much it costs.”

“That’s not a responsible answer. Mrs. Littlefield says you should always know how much something costs before you agree to buy it.”

Laughing, Nick couldn’t resist the urge to hug the boy. “Mrs. Littlefield is absolutely right about that.”

Scotty’s arms encircled his waist, and he held on tight. Nick hoped he’d never let go. “If it’s okay with you guys, maybe I could stay with you and Sam during the camp, and we could see how it goes?”

“Yes, buddy,” Nick said, closing his eyes tight against the emotional wallop. “We’d love that.”

Sam pulled up in front of the Morgans’ home, a place where she’d once spent a considerable amount of time, although she’d never felt entirely comfortable there.

“What’s the plan?” Freddie asked.

“I’ll go to the door and act like I was in the neighborhood,” Sam said. “See if I can find out where Melissa might be.”

“What if she’s in there waiting for you?”

“She won’t be.”

“And how do you know that?” Gonzo asked.

“That would be too anti-climatic,” Sam said, in the zone and tugging the thread her father had given her. “She’d want a big scene, something dramatic. A standoff at her parents’ house won’t feed her narcissistic need for glory.”

“Still,” Freddie said, “I don’t think you should go up there alone.”

“Fine. Stand outside the car and provide backup, but stay out of sight.” Sam got out of the car and headed up the front stairs to a spacious porch decorated with white wicker furniture and pots full of colorful blooms. She knocked on the door and tried to peek in a window, but couldn’t see through the sheer curtains.

After she knocked again, she looked around at nearby houses. An older woman was watering plants on the porch next door.

“Haven’t seen them around in a couple of days,” the woman said.

“Is that unusual?”

“Somewhat. They normally tell me if they’re going to be away so I can water their plants and take in the mail. We do that for each other. Have for thirty some years now.”

“Has their daughter been around at all?”

The woman’s sunny smile turned to a frown. “Not that I’ve seen. Why, is something wrong?”

“We’re not sure.” Sam showed the woman her badge. “Would you happen to have a key?”

“Why yes, but I don’t know…” She fussed with the collar of her housedress. “I wouldn’t feel right letting a stranger into their home.”

“I’m a police officer, ma’am. Lieutenant Sam Holland with the Metro Police Department.”

“Oh! You’re the one who married that handsome senator!”

Sam felt her face heat up. “Yes, ma’am.”

The woman leaned over the rail of her porch. “Is he as handsome in real life as he is in the pictures?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I thought so.” She fanned her face. “You’re a lucky gal.”

“Yes, I am. Now, about that key?”

“Since I feel like I know you, I’m sure the Morgans wouldn’t mind if I let you in. I’ll be right back.”

As she scurried off, Sam turned to find Freddie and Gonzo crippled with silent laughter. “Shut up,” Sam said through gritted teeth.

“Soooo famous,” Gonzo said.

“I said to shut up.”

“Personally, I think he’s more handsome in the pictures than he is in person,” Freddie deadpanned.

Sam flipped him the bird, which set the two of them off again. It was her lot in life to be surrounded by clowns.

The neighbor returned and came down her stairs, nodding to Freddie and Gonzo as she made her way next door. She joined Sam on the Morgans’ porch and produced the key.

“I’m going to need you to wait out here,” Sam said. “Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“I don’t know yet.” An uneasy sensation worked its way down her spine, and Sam had learned to trust those feelings. She inserted the key in the door and pushed it open. The stench of death smacked her square in the face.

Apparently, the neighbor smelled it too because she gasped and let out a squeal of dismay.

“Cruz, Gonzales,” Sam said, “please take care of her and call for backup. Now.” With her hand over her mouth and nose, Sam stepped into hell. If Melissa’s other murders had been marked by their sparseness, here she’d gone for high drama as if to leave no doubt that
these
people were, in fact, murdered. Blood stained the floors, walls and carpeting.

Mr. Morgan lay prone in the front room his wife had always reserved for company. From what Sam could see, he’d been bludgeoned with a blunt object.

Breathing through her mouth, Sam ventured farther into the house where nothing much had changed in the twenty years since she’d last been there. She found Mrs. Morgan, also bludgeoned, in the kitchen. On the floor next to her was a two-foot piece of metal pipe covered with blood and brain matter.

Sam was overwhelmed by sadness. They’d been difficult, rigid parents, but no one deserved this. “Oh, Melissa,” Sam whispered. “Why?”

“Holy Moses,” Freddie said when he joined her and took in the carnage. “Quite different from the others, huh?”

“I was just thinking the same thing. She wanted there to be no doubt here.”

“Gonzo got word from patrol that Melissa’s ex-husband and children are out of town on vacation this week.”

“And the source is certain they actually went on the trip?”

“Drove them to the airport.”

“Thank goodness,” Sam said. “That vacation probably saved his life, if not all of them.”

They took photographs of the victims and worked the scene in silence until Lindsey McNamara joined them.

“What’ve we got?” she asked.

Sam asked Freddie to start a canvass of the neighborhood before she brought Lindsey up to speed on the case and what they’d learned about Melissa.

Lindsey took it all in without comment and went right to work, first on Mrs. Morgan and then, after her body had been removed from the home, Mr. Morgan. “I’d estimate the time of death as sometime early yesterday. I can narrow it down for you when I get them back to the lab.”

“Everything all right, Doc?” Sam asked.

Lindsey looked up at her. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem a little preoccupied.”

Lindsey returned her attention to Mr. Morgan.

“Have you seen Terry?”

Lindsey nodded. “You could say that.”

“Ohhh, well… How was it?”

“Astounding.”

Sam started to laugh but reined in her amusement in deference to where they were and what they were doing. “I’m glad for you. Both of you.”

“I went with him to an AA meeting today and heard his story.” She looked up at Sam, her expression fraught with emotion. “I had no idea what he’d been through. The best part was he totally
owned
it, you know? No excuses, no woe-is-me stuff.”

“That’s promising.”

Lindsey nodded. “I was afraid I’d hear a litany of excuses and blame passing like my father used to do, but there was none of that.”

“He seems to have really turned his life around. I just wonder…”

“What?”

“He hasn’t been out of rehab all that long. I’d hate to see you hurt if he relapses.”

Lindsey stood and tugged off her latex gloves. “I guess I have to own that possibility. At least I’m going into it with my eyes wide open.” She gestured for her assistants to go ahead and remove the body.

“I hope it works out for you,” Sam said as they watched Mr. Morgan be removed from the house.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Sam turned the house over to crime scene detectives and met Malone, Gonzales and Cruz at the curb. She brought Malone up to date. “We need to keep the fact that we’ve found her parents out of the media,” Sam said with a meaningful look for Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, who were wide-eyed and white-faced after watching the bodies be removed from the house.

“I’ll take care of that,” Malone said.

“What’s the plan, L.T.?” Gonzo asked.

“Give me a minute,” Sam said. “Let me think.” Pacing the sidewalk in front of the Morgans’ home, under the watchful eyes of her colleagues and the Morgans’ neighbors, she thought about the woman she’d once known so well, the woman she’d once counted among her closest friends until being her friend had become too much work.

While she paced, Malone talked to the neighbors, probably asking them not to speak to the media.

She and Melissa had been silly teenagers together, suffered through crushes and first loves together, and shared just about every detail of their lives with each other until the day when it all stopped for no apparent reason. Melissa quit returning Sam’s calls and put an end to their friendship for reasons Sam hadn’t understood then and still didn’t understand now.

Then, several years later when they were in college, Melissa reappeared and acted like nothing had ever happened. She told Sam she was getting married and asked her to be a bridesmaid in the wedding. Sam had been surprised—and saddened—that Melissa had no other friends she was closer to by then. Even though she hadn’t wanted to be in the wedding, she’d gone along with it. That was where she’d met Crystal and Jed Trainer. The memory was sharper now that Sam recalled where the meeting had occurred. Crystal had been a college friend of Melissa’s. Sam wondered if she too had grown tired of the drama that came with being Melissa’s friend and paid for that with her life. Tomorrow, she’d ask Jed Trainer about that and get the details of his affair with Melissa.

After her wedding, Melissa kept in sporadic touch over the next few years. When Sam married Peter, she invited Melissa to the wedding, but she’d refused to attend because Sam hadn’t asked her to be in the wedding party. This next time she reappeared, she’d gained twenty pounds and had two children she was having trouble managing. Her marriage wasn’t working, and the husband she’d been so wildly in love with had turned into a major disappointment—or so she said.

Sam had endured a couple of visits with Melissa and her unruly children. This time when Melissa pulled her disappearing act, Sam was almost relieved. She’d been busy getting her career in the police department off the ground, and the last thing she needed was Melissa’s brand of drama.

Years had passed before Melissa once again reappeared, asking Debbie to orchestrate the meeting after Sam ignored several phone calls from Melissa. Once Sam realized that Melissa had manipulated her and Debbie, she’d left the party without a word for Melissa. She hadn’t seen or heard from her since, but couldn’t help but wonder at the timing of Melissa’s killing spree, weeks after the wedding Sam hadn’t invited her to.

As that staggering thought registered, Sam came to a halt in front of her three colleagues. “I need to see Amanda Lynch.”

After waiting four hours for her to reappear, Jeannie and Will gave up on Sam coming back to talk to them about the Fitzgerald case.

“You think she knows we need to tell her something she doesn’t want to hear about her dad?” Will asked as they shared a sandwich at eight o’clock that night in the conference room.

“I doubt it’s even on her radar. She gave me the case because she wanted to get me back to work but didn’t want it to be high stress and pressure the way an active case would be. If she’d known how he basically bungled this case, she never would’ve asked us to look into it.”

“True. Everyone knows how tight the two of them are.”

“Um, excuse me, Detective McBride?”

Jeannie wiped her mouth and got up.

“I’m Sam’s sister Tracy. We met at the shower?”

“Yes, of course. Come in. My partner Will Tyrone.”

Tracy nodded to Will. “Nice to meet you.”

“What can we do for you?” Jeannie asked, ushering Tracy into a chair.

“Sam’s not here, is she?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Good,” Tracy said, folding and unfolding her hands.

“Is everything all right, Tracy?”

“Sam told me she asked you to look into the Fitzgerald case.”

“That’s right.”

“I wondered…Were you able to learn anything new about what might’ve happened to Tyler?”

“We have our suspicions,” Jeannie said, glancing at Will. “But nothing we can prove.”

“My dad worked really hard on that case.”

“We could tell that from his notes.”

“It was…a, uh, a rough time for him.”

This was now the second time she’d heard that, Jeannie thought. “How do you mean?”

“This is all off the record right? You won’t tell Sam?”

Jeannie shifted her gaze to Will and then back to Tracy. “You’re putting us in a tough spot asking us to keep things from our lieutenant. I get that she’s your sister, but—”

“I understand, and I know I shouldn’t even be here, but…I wanted you to know… My father was going through some stuff during that case. It had nothing to do with the case or work.” Tracy took a breath and seemed to be fighting for composure. “That was the first time my mother left him. I heard them fighting. She accused him of all kinds of things. She said he’d been unfaithful, that he’d been drinking too much, that he was married to his work. I remember her saying she couldn’t live like that anymore.

“The next day when we woke up she was gone. Dad said she went away on a trip with her girlfriends, and my sisters bought that, but I knew that wasn’t where she was. He was a mess for weeks afterward, all during the Fitzgerald investigation. I heard him on the phone saying he had a suspect but couldn’t make a case against the person. He said if he was able to nail that person it would destroy the Fitzgerald family even more than they already were. He sounded so terribly torn. I don’t know what any of it meant. I only know what I heard.”

She cleared her throat and looked up at them. “I have no idea what you’ve learned about the investigation, but I wanted you to know my dad always tried to be a good cop and a good man.”

“We haven’t found anything to the contrary,” Jeannie said, telling Tracy what she needed to hear. “Sam doesn’t know about any of this?”

Tracy shook her head. “She idolizes him. I’d never take that away from her, and I hope you won’t either. The way people treat him here…it sustains him since the shooting.”

“We’ll keep the information you’ve shared out of the report,” Jeannie said.

“I appreciate that. My father has given so much to this department.”

“Yes, he has. We’re relieved to hear he’s feeling better.”

“We are too.” Tracy stood up to go. “Thank you for your time and discretion.”

“Thanks for coming in. You’ve given us a lot to think about.”

After Tracy left the two detectives sat in silence for a long time, processing what they’d been told.

“What the hell do we do now?” Will asked.

“Damned if I know.”

Sam dropped Freddie and Gonzo at HQ to begin tracking down Melissa and headed for Woodley Park. At the Lynch home, Sam found Amanda in the care of her sister. They’d just returned from picking out a casket for Mr. Lynch, and judging from Amanda’s ravaged face, she hadn’t slept since Sam saw her the day before.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, Mrs. Lynch,” Sam said, “but I have a couple of follow-up questions that couldn’t wait.”

Amanda waved a hand in a helpless gesture that tugged at Sam. What did she care if Sam had questions? Her life had been destroyed, and nothing Sam said or did would ever change that. Putting herself in Amanda’s place made Sam feel sick, so she didn’t allow herself to go there.

“Do you know a woman named Melissa Morgan?”

Amanda thought about it for a minute and then shook her head. “The only Melissa I know is a Melissa Woodmansee.” Her face clouded. “A total bitch who came on to my husband, and when we confronted her about it, she tried to blame
us
for her husband leaving her.”

Sam’s heart sank. She’d known there was a connection, but hearing it spelled out made her ache for what she’d have to tell Amanda.

“What?” Amanda asked. “You know something. Tell me. Please.”

Sam took a deep breath and reached for Amanda’s hand. “We have reason to believe Melissa killed your husband.”

Amanda Lynch’s keening wail brought tears to Sam’s eyes. In the past, she’d always empathized with the loved ones of any murder victim. But now that she had Nick, she had a whole new level of sympathy for victims like Amanda, who’d lost the love of her life.

“Why?”
Amanda asked, her eyes searching Sam’s for answers she didn’t have. “
Why would she kill my Jimmy?
We hadn’t seen her in years!”

“Because you shut her out. You stopped talking to her.”

“Of course I did! She tried to get my husband to sleep with her. We were disgusted that she thought she could take him away from me. She had no idea how much he loved me, how much we loved each other.” A sob hiccupped through her. “She had no idea.”

“I knew her too. Years ago. I also stopped talking to her.”

“Did she come after your husband too?”

The question was a knife to Sam’s heart. As she shook her head it registered that Nick’s trip to Boston with Scotty had quite possibly saved his life. Her heart ached, and her stomach lurched at the thought of it. “She broke into my house and shredded every piece of clothing I have, including my wedding gown.”

Amanda grimaced with dismay. “She’s sick. I always told Jimmy something was wrong with her, but he said she was just a drama queen.”

“He was right about that.” Sam squeezed the other woman’s hand. “I’m going to get her—for you and for Jimmy and for all the other people whose lives she’s ruined.”

“Whatever you do, don’t let her take your husband, Lieutenant. I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.”

“She’ll have to go through me to get to him.”

Sam had Nick on the phone before she was through the Lynchs’ front door. “Where are you?” she asked, filled with relief at the sound of his voice.

“On the way home from the farm. How about you?”

“Still working. I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Meet me at HQ.”

“This late? What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there.” Thankful that she’d reached him before he went home, Sam drove to HQ with one purpose in mind—getting to Nick and keeping him close until Melissa was in custody.

“I swear to God, it’s a sickness,” Sam said when she reached her office and saw that her husband had once again brought his anal retentiveness to her desk. In truth she was so happy to see him that he could’ve cleaned the place from top to bottom and she wouldn’t have cared. “You have a sickness.”

He flashed that grin that never failed to make her knees go weak. “You had it all cleaned up before the wedding. What happened?”

“Murder happened,” she said, bending to kiss him.

He hooked a hand around her neck and held her in place for a more serious kiss.

“No PDA at work, Senator,” she said, even though her eyes were closed and blood zinged through her veins.

When someone knocked on the door, Sam pulled away from him. She turned to find Jeannie McBride and Will Tyrone waiting for her along with an angry Agent Hill. “Shit,” Sam said when she saw McBride and Tyrone. “I was gone much longer than an hour, wasn’t I?”

“And from what I hear,” Hill said, “you weren’t at the hospital all that long.”

“What can I say? Duty called. We’ve got this one nailed, Agent Hill, so you can go back to Quantico or wherever you normally hang your hat.”

“I’m not going anywhere until Chief Farnsworth tells me I’m no longer needed here.”

“You’re no longer needed here, Hill,” Farnsworth said from behind him. “I was premature calling you in, but I appreciate your assistance.”

Sam sent Hill a smug smile. He left her with a glare and stormed out of the pit. She had a feeling she’d be seeing him again sometime.

“Lieutenant,” Farnsworth said, “I understand you’ve figured out who our murderer is.”

“Actually, my father did.” Sam filled him in on how Skip had connected the dots.

“Is that right?” Farnsworth said, his expression full of pride and pleasure. “The old man’s still got it, huh?”

“That he does, and thank God we’ve still got him.” To Jeannie and Will, Sam said, “You two have waited long enough to talk to me. Let’s go to the conference room.”

Jeannie looked at Will, and he nodded. “Actually,” Jeannie said. “We’ve gone over all the case files and re-interviewed witnesses. We were unable to add any new insight to the case.”

Disappointed, Sam took the stack of folders from Jeannie. She would’ve like to have been able to tell her dad they’d closed this one for him. “Well, thanks for trying. Never hurts to put new eyes on a cold case.”

“Lieutenant,” Farnsworth said in that stern voice he did so well, “please tell me you have a plan for arresting the woman who’s been murdering innocent people in my city.”

Sam flashed him a winning smile. “Of course I do, Chief.” Turning to Nick, she said, “We’re having a party, Senator.”

By the time all the plans were in place, contingency plans were considered and backup plans formed, it was after 1:00 a.m. They’d sent the pipe found at the Morgans’ house to the lab for analysis, but the report wasn’t back yet. Tracing her credit cards, Gonzo had found Melissa holed up in a motel outside of town, and Sam had ordered a couple of third-shift detectives to keep an eye on her. Sam would’ve preferred to arrest her tonight, but since they didn’t have a scrap of evidence tying Melissa directly to any of the murders, they needed a confession. Tapping into her understanding of how Melissa’s mind worked and her need for attention, Sam had hatched her plan.

Sam sent a text message to Melissa saying she was having a gathering of old friends so they could meet her new husband at four the next day and hoped Melissa could make it. She included her Ninth Street address. At the “party,” Sam intended to back Melissa into a confession. Sam ordered her team to report to her house by three o’clock the next day and sent them home, telling them to get some sleep.

“Will she try to kill again in the meantime?” Farnsworth asked after she’d laid out the plan.

“I don’t think so.” At least she hoped not. “The whole purpose of her vendetta was to get rid of the people who’d done her wrong in the past and to get my attention. I believe she saved her parents—and me—for last.”

“And if she doesn’t confess?”

“Then we’ll go with a plan B.”

“Which is what?”

“Don’t know yet, but if I need a plan B, I’ll get one.”

“Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.”

She was so tired that she didn’t put up much of an argument when Nick insisted on driving her home.

They were in the lobby on the way to the parking lot when Joseph Alvarez came through the main door.

“Oh God,” Sam muttered when she thought of what she’d have to tell this poor man about his son’s death.

“Lieutenant,” he said, surprised to see her. “I wasn’t expecting to find you here at this hour on a Saturday.” He glanced around the deserted lobby. “I couldn’t sleep. I was hoping maybe someone could tell me the latest on the case.”

“Mr. Alvarez, this is my husband, Nick Cappuano.”

The two men shook hands.

“Pleasure to meet you, Senator.”

“Likewise. I’m sorry for your loss.”

The expression of sympathy brought tears to the other man’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Sam gestured to a sitting area outside the door that led to the inner offices. “Nick, would you mind giving us a minute?”

“That’s not necessary,” Mr. Alvarez said. “No reason he can’t hear this. Heck, he probably already knows.”

Sam glanced up at Nick who fortified her with the empathetic gaze he sent her way.

When they were seated, Sam took a deep breath. “We know who killed your son.”

Taken aback by the news, Mr. Alvarez said, “Oh.”

In as few words as possible, Sam explained about Melissa backtracking to exact revenge for old hurts.

“But what’s that got to do with my Danny?” he asked, confused.

“Nothing at all,” Sam said softly. “I’m sorry to say he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Mr. Alvarez dropped his head to his chest and broke down.

Sam rested a hand on his shoulder. “He was a good kid, Mr. Alvarez. I couldn’t find a single person who had a bad thing to say about him. We suspected all along that this wasn’t about him.”

“Thank you.” He wiped the tears from his face. “I appreciate you working so fast to get me some answers. Doesn’t change anything, but it helps to know why.”

“I’ll get in touch as soon as we have her in custody.”

Mr. Alvarez stood and offered her his hand. “Thank you.”

Sam shook his hand. “I’m sorry again for your terrible loss.”

He shifted his eyes to include Nick. “Take good care of each other.”

“We will,” Nick said, standing to shake the other man’s hand again.