Fatal Accusation (The Fatal Series)

by Marie Force

  “I have a few thoughts on that, but I’d like to discuss it with the chief first.”

  Sam shrugged. “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” The adrenaline that had surged during the confrontation with Conklin subsided, leaving her wrung out in the aftermath. “Will this ever stop being shocking?”

  “No, never. It’ll never make sense to those of us who try to do the right thing on and off the job.”

  “Are there more like him than like us?”

  “I can’t allow myself to believe that or the job will stop making sense to me.”

  “I worry that it’s already stopped making sense to me.”

  “That’s not true. You’re grieving the loss of your dad and the betrayal of a man you and your dad had considered a friend and ally. That’s a lot to process, but you will wrap your head around it. Eventually. In the meantime, you continue to do the job, which is exactly what Skip would want you to do. He was so damned proud of you.”

  For the first time in days, Sam’s eyes stung with the start of tears that she could not give in to while on the job. She hated people who cried at work and tried to never be that person. But sometimes... Sometimes, it was all too much.

  “There’s something else.” She recalled her dad’s advice from her first day on the job—if you know something that your chain of command needs to be made aware of, disclose it immediately. Do not hesitate to report it or you, too, are culpable.

  “What?” Malone took on a guarded stance.

  “Ramsey said something about Gonzo scoring pills on the street.”

  Malone’s eyes went wide for a second. “What’d he say?”

  “Something about Gonzo being a bad, bad boy scoring shit on the street and how word is he’s in rehab and not out sick like people were told.”

  The captain’s shock was palpable. “Is there any chance he could be telling the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sam... Are you kidding me right now?”

  “I wish I was.”

  Malone’s expression was unreadable as he processed the information. “I have to take this to the chief.”

  “I understand. In the meantime, can you do something about Ramsey and his big mouth?”

  “I’ll do what I can, but if this gets out...”

  He didn’t have to tell her that Gonzo’s career could be ruined right as he seemed to be turning the corner in battling his addiction and the grief that had nearly ruined him after Arnold’s murder. The timing couldn’t be worse.

  “Keep me posted.”

  “I will.”

  Malone left, closing the door behind him.

  Sam fired up her computer and looked up the rehab in Baltimore where Gonzo was being treated. She placed a call to the number listed on the website and cycled through an automatic greeting in an effort to reach an actual person. When she finally got through to an operator, ten minutes had gone by.

  “I need to leave a message for one of your patients. It’s urgent that I speak with Thomas Gonzales as soon as possible.”

  “May I please have your name?”

  “Sam Holland with the Metro PD in Washington.”

  “You... You’re...”

  “Yes, I am. Will you give him the message and ask him to call my cell as soon as possible? Tell him nothing is wrong with his fiancée or son so he won’t panic.”

  “I’ll let him know.”

  “Thanks.” Sam ended the call before the woman could go on about her being the second lady or ask why she didn’t have Secret Service protection or how she could continue to do her job while her husband was the vice president. She was sick of answering those questions.

  She took a minute to check her email, which included one from Hanigan containing Tara’s vetting documents. Sam forwarded the email to Green with instructions to review it.

  Grabbing her coat, keys and portable radio, she got up to leave the office. “Cruz, let’s go.”

  Not bothering to wait for him to get his shit together, she headed for the morgue, needing to get out of the building where she’d been so profoundly disappointed.

  Freddie caught up to her. “Where’re we going?”

  “To talk to Delany again. And to City Hall.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s just dandy.”

  “You talked to Conklin? How’d that go?”

  “He wants us to put in a good word for him with the prosecutors because he’s trying to help. Now.”

  “Seriously? I hope you told him to eff off.”

  Sam glanced at her partner, feigning shock. It was a big deal for him to say “damn,” let alone “eff off.”

  “Don’t look at me that way! Tell me you told him where to go.”

  “I did. But he gave us a thread, mentioning the petty jealousy that goes on inside departments when one person gets promoted over another. We should look at the academy classes above and below Dad’s to see who would’ve been put out by his success. Maybe someone else had stumbled upon the truth of Dad’s shooting but kept it to themselves because they didn’t like him for whatever reason.”

  “It’s not a bad idea.”

  “Definitely worth considering. Conklin said he was sick over what he knew the whole time Dad was in that wheelchair and that he tried to be as good of a friend to him as he could be after the shooting.”

  “With friends like that...”

  “Right?” They got into Sam’s car and headed for Georgetown, where Delany lived in an off-campus apartment that was within walking distance of Tara’s place. “I honestly couldn’t believe his lawyer was actually suggesting we put in a word for him.”

  “The whole thing is beyond disgusting.”

  “There’s something else.” She told him what Ramsey had said about Gonzo and watched as Freddie’s expression flattened with shock.

  “No way. He’d never do that.”

  “He did do it.”

  “Sam, there’s no way he would’ve risked his career that way.”

  “He told me he did. He hasn’t been himself since Arnold was killed. We’d all like to believe he never would have crossed the line, but we’ve seen the lengths other addicts go to in order to score. Why should he be any different?”

  “I just... I can’t...”

  Sam sighed. “I know. Believe me.” If this came to light, she would have one hell of a time protecting her friend and sergeant from the ramifications. “I left a message for him at the rehab. I’m waiting for him to call me.”

  “The fact that Ramsey has this...”

  “I’m going to talk to Erica Lucas and see if she can find out what he knows and how he knows.” Detective Lucas worked with Ramsey in Special Victims and disliked him nearly as much as Sam did.

  “That’s a good idea.”

  Making use of the GPS app on Freddie’s phone, they found Delany’s apartment building. “No idea how these kids can afford tuition at Georgetown and an apartment in this city.”

  “Right? They must have loans up the wazoo.”

  “I had loans up the wazoo, and I lived at home while I was in school. I worked extra details for years to pay off my student loans. I don’t miss that grind.”

  “No kidding. Details were the worst.”

  Hours in the broiling sun or frigid wind, directing traffic around construction sites, among other things cops did for extra money, had helped Sam pay down the staggering debt she’d accumulated while getting her bachelor’s and master’s degrees. It’d been worth it, as her education had helped to move her through the department ranks more quickly.

  “You know, Ramsey hates me for making lieutenant ahead of him, but did he bust his ass with dyslexia to get a graduate degree? I think not.”

  “No one ever wants to hear that there’re good reasons why someone else was promoted ahead o
f them.”

  “They think advancement is their God-given right if they show up and punch the clock every day.”

  “Right?”

  “I hate to say that Conklin might be right about anything, but there probably were people above and below my dad who felt he’d gotten promotions that should’ve been theirs. People can be so fucking petty. And if this person blabbed about it, then maybe someone clued them in on how Skip Holland was going to get what was coming to him.”

  “It’s a thread.” His lack of enthusiasm had her glancing at him after she had found a parking space three blocks from Delany’s building.

  “You don’t like it?”

  He shrugged. “I just think it’s far-fetched to think that multiple people in the department would’ve known that one of their own was putting himself in mortal danger and done nothing to stop it. Or that they would hear about it after the fact and not say something.”

  “That’s because you’re the kind of cop who’d do the right thing. Sadly, not all our colleagues think the way you do.”

  They got out of the car and backtracked to Delany’s place. As they walked, Sam kept her gaze down so as not to attract attention she didn’t want from people they passed on the sidewalk.

  In the vestibule, Freddie found Delany’s name on the list of tenants and pushed the button.

  “Yes?”

  “Lieutenant Holland and Detective Cruz.”

  After a long pause, she buzzed them in.

  “Is it my imagination or is Ms. Delany not happy we’re here?” Sam asked in the elevator.

  “She was a little hesitant to buzz us in. Maybe she’s not dressed or her boyfriend is there or...”

  Sam rolled her eyes.

  “We’re both a little too jaded to believe it’s anything that simple.”

  “Very true. I love that you’re as jaded as I am now. You were so annoying back in the rose-colored glasses days.”

  “When did I have rose-colored glasses?”

  “Like the first two years we worked together when you still wanted to believe that people were inherently good? I believe I’ve shown you otherwise since then.”

  “Aren’t you the one who preaches that I shouldn’t judge all people by the crap we see on the job?”

  “Don’t use my own words against me. It’s annoying.”

  His bark of laughter followed her off the elevator.

  Outside her door, Sam and Freddie showed their badges to the officer who’d been assigned to provide security at Delany’s home. Though the officer clearly recognized her, he went through the motions of examining their badges. After he granted approval, Sam knocked on the door at apartment 6C.

  Once again, Delany made them wait, which was also annoying.

  Sam was about to knock again when the door swung open.

  “Hey.” Delany stepped aside to admit them into a small but neatly kept space. “Have you figured out who killed Tara?”

  “Not yet, but we have more questions for you.”

  “Sure, whatever I can do to help.”

  Sam helped herself to a seat on Delany’s sofa. “Besides the president, who else could be the father of her child?”

  “It was Nelson’s kid.”

  “He says otherwise.”

  “Well, of course he does.”

  “The thing is, it’s possible that he can prove it’s not his.” Sam waited a moment to see if Delany would connect the dots on her own.

  “Oh, so he had a vasectomy, then?”

  “We’re awaiting conclusive proof of that, but that’s what we’re hearing. What I’d like to know is who else was she seeing who could’ve fathered her child?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You had access to her schedule?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still have access to her calendar from that time?”

  Delany bit her lip and nodded.

  “We’d like to see it.”

  “I...I’m not sure I should do that. It’s her private business.”

  “She was murdered, Delany. That means her private business is now our business.” Seeing that the woman wasn’t entirely convinced, Sam added, “We can get a warrant and take you into custody until it comes through.”

  That got her attention. “Why would you have to take me in?”

  “So you can’t fuck with the calendar while we wait for the warrant.”

  “I...I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Maybe not, but I don’t know you well enough to be sure of that, so you can either give us the info we want now or we’ll head downtown to get a warrant. It’s up to you.”

  Delany appeared to give her options significant thought before getting up to retrieve an iPad from her desk. She returned to her seat on the sofa and started poking at the screen. When she had the info they needed, she handed it over to Sam, who passed it to Freddie.

  “Who else besides Nelson was significant at that time?”

  “There were a couple,” Delany said hesitantly. “I don’t want people to think she was a slut or anything. She was heartbroken after Bryce ended things. She went a little nuts with guys and dating and stuff...”

  “I’m not out to slut-shame her, Delany. All I want to know is who killed her. The rest is her business.”

  “So you won’t say anything about how many different guys she was with?”

  Was it Sam’s imagination, or was Delany the one who had a problem with the number of men her boss had seen? “I’m only interested in whoever killed her. The rest is her business.” Sam glanced at Freddie, who was seated at Delany’s desk taking notes from the calendar.

  “Did you know any of the guys whose names we’re going to find in the calendar?”

  “Just one. Ben Wilton.”

  The name hit Sam like a shock from a live wire. “The congressman?”

  Delany nodded.

  Sam had to take a second to fully absorb this information and the implications that came with it. “How long was she seeing him?”

  “On and off for a couple of months. Until she started traveling with the Nelson campaign, and then they didn’t see as much of each other, but I know she still saw him after the campaign.”

  “Was she still seeing him while she was with Nelson?”

  “I think so. It was hard to keep track of what she was doing during that time. Not all of it made it onto the calendar that I kept for her.” Delany leaned forward, her expression earnest. “You have to understand. She wanted to marry Bryce. She thought she had it all figured out, and when he broke up with her... Well, she went a little crazy. And not just in her dating life. Everything was crazy. That was right around the time that her partner left the business.”

  They needed to talk to the partner. “Can you hook me up with her contact info?”

  “Sure.” Delany used her cell phone to find the number and wrote Paige Thompson’s number on a piece of paper that she handed to Sam.

  “Talk to me about what precipitated their split?”

  “Tara never talked about it with me, but I think Paige was pissed that Tara was neglecting the business after she broke up with Bryce. I overheard them fighting a few days before Paige decided to leave. She said that she understood Tara was disappointed and heartbroken, but they still had a business to run and that Tara couldn’t be out all night every night and still carry her weight.”

  “What did Tara say to that?”

  “That it was easy for Paige to criticize her as an engaged woman with her whole life figured out.”

  “Stay available,” Sam said to Delany when she got up to leave.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means if I call you, answer the phone. If I come by to talk to you again, let me in. Don’t leave town without telling me. Got it?”

  Seeming rattled, Delan
y nodded. “O-okay.”

  In the elevator, Sam made a decision based on the gut that had never let her down yet. “I want to dig deeper into her.”

  “Delany?”

  “Yeah. She’s too nervous for my liking. I feel like she knows something else that she’s not telling us.”

  “Could she be nervous after having found her boss strangled?”

  “Sure, but I sense this is something more. She’s too skittish.”

  “I’ll call Green and tell him to get everyone on it.”

  “Tell him the lieutenant is having one of her feelings.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AS THEY WALKED OUTSIDE, Sam’s phone rang with a number she didn’t recognize. But she did recognize the Baltimore area code. “It’s Gonzo. Make that call to Green.” She flipped open her phone and walked away from Freddie. “Hey, thanks for getting back to me.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Well, I’m not quite sure how to say this, but I had another encounter with Ramsey this morning.”

  “That guy needs to get a life.”

  “Agreed, but he said something I couldn’t ignore, as much as I’d like to.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It was about you scoring on the street.”

  Dead silence.

  “Gonzo.” Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “How does he know?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Fuck, Sam. This is bad.”

  “Yep. I had no choice but to mention it to Malone. I’m not sure how this will go, but we’re all aware of your illness and how it can manifest itself.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam. All I can tell you is I wasn’t myself then. The addiction had me by the throat, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to feed it. I’ll take full responsibility.”

  “Don’t say anything to anyone about this until we figure out what he’s got and what he plans to do with it.”

  “If he’s got it, others probably do too.”

  “I don’t have to tell you that this could end your career.”

  “No, you don’t have to tell me that.”

  “I’m sorry to hit you with this while you’re working so hard to get back on track.”