Fatal Accusation (The Fatal Series)

by Marie Force

  “I don’t expect you to stick your neck out for me, Sam. I fucked up. I have to own that.”

  “I appreciate you taking responsibility, but in light of the circumstances that led to your addiction, I’m not going to sit by and let your career get ruined without at least trying to see if there’s anything I can do. Give me a couple of days to figure things out on my end.”

  “Will you let me know what you find out?”

  “As soon as I can. In the meantime, keep doing what you’re doing there and don’t let this sidetrack you.”

  “I’ll do my best not to let it get in my head. If I lose my job, I’ll figure something out.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Neither of them mentioned it could get a whole lot worse than losing his job if he was charged with a crime. “I’ll be in touch.” She slapped the phone closed and turned to walk back to where Freddie waited for her.

  He could tell just by looking at her that the news wasn’t good.

  “He said the addiction had him by the throat, and he did things he’s not proud of to feed it.”

  “And freaking Ramsey, of all people, knows that.”

  “Yep.”

  “This isn’t good, Sam.”

  “No, it isn’t. With the shit already flying over Stahl and Conklin, this will be a bigger deal than it would be otherwise. And it has me wondering if Ramsey and his minions are going out of their way to look for dirt on me and my squad due to his intense dislike for me.”

  “Wouldn’t put it past him.”

  They got into the car and headed for the Capitol. “Find out which building Wilton’s office is in.” While Freddie got busy on his phone, Sam placed a call to Erica Lucas.

  “Hey,” Lucas said, sounding rushed. “What’s up?”

  “You got a minute?”

  “Just one. Sexual assault reported at American University. I’m at the ER waiting to talk to the victim.”

  “You want to call me back?”

  “Nah, go ahead.”

  “It’s about Ramsey.”

  “How did I know you were going to say that?”

  “Sorry to put you in the middle of our feud, but he’s got something on one of my people.”

  “Gonzales, right?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “When Ramsey has something, he spews.”

  Sam had been afraid of just that. “What’s he saying?”

  “That Gonzales was scoring pills on the street and he’s in rehab, not out sick like everyone thinks. Is he in rehab?”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  “Oh crap. Well, I hope he’s getting the help he needs. Most of us understand that he’s been through a horrific ordeal since Arnold was killed and would cut him a break for anything he did in the throes of grief and addiction. But Ramsey isn’t most people.”

  “Do you know how he got ahold of this info?”

  “He’s got a lot of eyes and ears on the ground. His team of informants is impressive, considering he’s such a douchebag. It must’ve come from one of them. Is it possible that Gonzo scored on the street?”

  “It’s more than possible.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “Is Ramsey going out of his way to look for dirt on me and my people?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was. He was enraged that you weren’t indicted for assaulting him. After that, I’d say anything is possible.”

  It killed her to think that her feud with the sergeant was spilling onto the officers who reported to her. Not that she blamed herself for what Gonzo had done, but no one would know about it were it not for her ongoing beef with Ramsey—and his with her. “If you hear anything else, will you let me know?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve got to run.”

  “Thanks for taking the time.”

  “No problem.”

  Sam closed the phone and tucked it into her pocket.

  “What’d she say?” Freddie asked.

  Sam conveyed the gist of the conversation to him. “I need to warn the others that there’s never been a better time to keep their noses clean on and off the job. If Ramsey’s got eyes on us, we’re not going to give him anything else.”

  “Agreed. Wilton is in Longworth. He’s a Democrat representing Seattle, known for being a supporter of business and technology.”

  Sam directed the car toward Independence Avenue, while her brain spun with the potential implications for Gonzo. Would he be charged or would the U.S. Attorney cut him a break due to the circumstances surrounding his addiction? And if they did go easy on him, what would Ramsey do then? He’d nearly lost his mind when the grand jury had chosen not to indict her for assaulting him, and since then, he’d been more unhinged than usual.

  Her job was hard enough as it was without her own colleagues turning on her. She’d assaulted Ramsey after he’d said she’d gotten what she deserved when Stahl wrapped her in razor wire and dumped gasoline on her in preparation for setting her on fire. When she’d punched Ramsey in the face, she hadn’t expected him to fall backward down a flight of stairs and break bones. That’d been the least of what he’d deserved for saying such a hateful thing to her.

  Sam had always thought that jealousy was the most ridiculous of emotions, especially on a job like theirs. Not everyone could rise to the upper echelons of command, and those who did, usually did so because of a dedicated effort that spanned their entire career. Her dad, for example, had set out to be chief or deputy chief, never deviating from that goal. And when his best friend had been chosen over him for the top job, he’d swallowed his own disappointment and supported Joe as his faithful deputy. He’d understood that they couldn’t both have the top job, and if it couldn’t be him, then he wanted it to be Joe.

  Someone like Ramsey expected promotions and awards to come his way just for showing up and doing the bare minimum each day. It infuriated him that Sam had made lieutenant over him when he’d had more years on the job, but he hadn’t used those years as productively as she had. She’d taken full advantage of every opportunity that had come her way and had busted her ass for the rank she now held. To hear him tell it, the only reason she still had a job, let alone the rank of lieutenant overseeing one of the most critical divisions in the department, was because her dad was the chief’s best friend.

  Whatever.

  “I can hear you fuming over there.”

  Freddie’s comment interrupted her musings. “I am fuming. His beef is with me. Why’s he going after my team?”

  “Because he knows that going after us would upset you more than if he comes for you.”

  “That’s a fact. What I don’t get is if he’s so disillusioned, why doesn’t he just retire and move on with his life?”

  “He’s the type that’d want to see you crippled before he goes.”

  “Yeah, he would because he’s sick that way. I’ll never understand how people have the emotional energy to do this kind of shit.”

  “It’s probably because they have nowhere else to expend it. If he’s unhappy in his professional life, that probably extends to his personal life.”

  “Maybe we should do a little digging of our own and see if we can find dirt on him.”

  “Hmmm, that’s not the worst idea you ever had.”

  “It probably is one of the worst ideas I ever had, but that’s not going to stop me from acting on it. When we get back, I’ll bring Jeannie and Cam in on the plan, but not O’Brien.”

  “He’s too new and untested. We’re not sure yet if we can completely trust him.”

  “Exactly. I want to trust him, but until I’m a hundred percent sure...”

  “Say no more. The four of us will be enough.” He grinned at her. “I really, really like this terrible idea of yours. If we can find something on him, that might save Gonzo.”

  Sam wasn’t conv
inced that Gonzo could be saved since he’d admitted to having committed a crime. However, the fact that he was battling addiction and PTSD over the loss of his partner would go a long way toward leniency, or so she hoped.

  “Before we see Wilton, we need to get a rough date on when conception of the baby would’ve occurred.”

  “Let me consult the Google.” He did some tapping on his phone. “So there’s this reverse calculator site where we can put in the baby’s birth date and figure out when conception would’ve occurred.”

  “He’s two weeks old, right?”

  “Yes.” He typed in the baby’s birth date. “It gives a weeklong range of implantation dates. January 31 to February 6.”

  “Is there anything we can’t find out online these days?”

  “Hardly anything.”

  “It’s downright handy at times like this.”

  “No kidding. If you had a smart phone, you’d know how much you can find out.”

  “Why do I need a smart phone when you have one?”

  At the Longworth office building, they were once again forced to turn over their firearms and submit to security checks to gain entrance.

  Wilton’s office was on the second floor, tucked into a corner at the end of a long hallway. Inside, they encountered one of Sam’s favorite things, this time in triplicate—three receptionists. Awesome. Could this day get any better?

  She showed her badge while Freddie did the same. “Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz, Metro PD, here to see Congressman Wilton?”

  “Do you have an appointment?” one of them asked. She was blonde, blue-eyed, perky and efficient.

  Sam could tell that just by looking at her. “No, we don’t have an appointment, but then again, we don’t need one when we’re investigating a homicide. Please tell the congressman we’re here, and that it would be better for him if he doesn’t waste our time with unnecessary delays.”

  The woman started to say something but wisely thought better of it and picked up the phone. With the mood Sam was in, it would give her great pleasure to arrest the woman for interfering in her investigation.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Freddie said under his breath. “I’m not doing all that paperwork.”

  “Stop being a killjoy.” She absolutely loved how well he knew her, but it was a little disconcerting that they’d reached the point where he was actually reading her mind. That could become a problem if she wasn’t careful. Her mind was a scary place to be, and no one needed to know the full extent of what went on there.

  The door behind the row of receptionists opened and out strode a tall, handsome, dark-haired man who Sam recognized as the congressman.

  “Come in,” he said.

  Now that was the kind of cooperation she expected but rarely received on the job. He scored five points right off the bat for cutting through the bullshit and ushering them into his small but elegant office and offering them seats in his visitor chairs.

  “How can I help you?”

  “We’re investigating the homicide of Tara Weber.” Sam watched him carefully, looking for any sign of emotional reaction to hearing the late woman’s name.

  “It’s a terrible tragedy. Tara was a great person.”

  “We understand that you were involved with her?”

  “A long time ago.”

  “How long ago exactly?”

  “Almost a year maybe.”

  “Can you be more specific? When was the last time you were romantically involved with her?” Sam didn’t want to come right out and ask the guy when he last slept with her, but she would if he didn’t take the hint.

  He picked up his phone. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  While he poked at the screen, she cooled her heels, waiting for him to determine the actual date of their last get-together.

  “February 1. We had dinner, spent the night together, and I never heard from her again after that, despite repeated efforts on my part to see her again. I know now that was because she was also involved with Nelson.” This last part was said with a tinge of bitterness.

  “Congressman, is there any chance her son is yours?”

  The question clearly shocked him. “I thought the baby was Nelson’s?”

  “We have reason to believe that’s not the case.”

  “I...I have no idea what to say. She told me she was on birth control. We talked about how we both were clean. I told her I could prove it. She said that wasn’t necessary. I thought... I thought we were starting something, you know? It never occurred to me that I’d never see her again after that last night together.”

  “Would you be willing to submit to a DNA test to determine the baby’s paternity?”

  “Um, yes, of course. If he’s mine, I want to know that.”

  “We’ll set that up. Can you confirm that you had no further contact with her after February 1 of this year?”

  “Yes, I can confirm that, and you’re welcome to check my phone if you don’t believe me.” He handed it over to Freddie, who looked at the text message history.

  “Do you mind if I look at your emails too?”

  “Be my guest. I have nothing to hide where she’s concerned. I was interested in more with her, but apparently that didn’t work both ways.”

  Sam appreciated the man’s forthrightness, another thing that was rare in her line of work. People tended to hedge, even when they had nothing to hide, which only made them seem guilty even when they weren’t. People were stupid that way.

  “I hope you understand that we have to ask where you were the day Tara was killed.”

  “I was right here, in committee hearings all day. My assistant can give you my schedule for that day and any other day in question.”

  “That day would be great.”

  He picked up the desktop extension and requested the information while Sam watched him, looking for cracks in his armor and seeing none. After he ended the call, he glanced at her. “How soon can I find out if the baby is mine?”

  Sam gave him Lindsey McNamara’s number and asked him to get in touch with her about giving a sample of his DNA. “It can take a couple of weeks to run DNA, but we’ll see what we can do to expedite it.”

  “This is... It’s crazy. I’m in a new relationship, and it’s going really well. This...” He seemed at a loss for words.

  “Would be something that happened before you met the new person in your life.”

  “True, but a baby...” He took a shaky deep breath and released it. “That’s... Well...”

  “It’s only natural you’d be shocked, Congressman. Most people have nine months to prepare for a child.” The scenario reminded her of how Gonzo found out about his son, Alex, months after the child was born.

  “Yes, exactly.” Running his hands through his hair, he seemed to be trying to wrap his mind around the possibility.

  “I should mention that our investigation has revealed that Ms. Weber dated a number of men during the months that followed the end of a long-term relationship.”

  “So you’re saying there’s also a good possibility the baby isn’t mine?” His expression was a mixture of relief and sadness, as if he couldn’t decide which he preferred—being the baby’s father or not.

  “I’m saying nothing is definite until it is.” In other words, she wanted to say, don’t get your hopes up in case the baby isn’t yours.

  “I understand.”

  Sam stood to leave. “We’ll be in touch about the DNA test.”

  He stood to walk them out. “The sooner the better.”

  “I understand.”

  When he opened the office door, the assistant appeared with a printout of his schedule from the day Tara was murdered.

  Sam took it from her. “Thank you. We appreciate the cooperation.”

  “Whatever we can
do.” Wilton handed her a business card. “Will you keep me posted? My cell number is on there.”

  Sam reciprocated, giving him one of hers. “Will do. If you think of anything else that might be relevant, call me. No detail is too small.”

  He nodded. “I will.”

  Sam and Freddie left the congressman’s suite and headed for the main security checkpoint to retrieve their weapons.

  “Call Lindsey and tell her she’ll be hearing from Wilton.”

  While Freddie made the call, Sam let her mind wander from one detail of this case to the other, looking for new threads to pull. They were almost back to the car when her phone rang with a call from Cameron Green. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to let you know I talked to Archie about the dump of Tara’s phone, and we’re still waiting for the phone company to respond.”

  “I’m going to call Malone and have him put some pressure there.”

  “He’s already taking care of that, and Agent Hill has been exerting pressure as well with the phone company and the dating app.”

  “It’s good of him to help. Sometimes the FBI gets faster results than we do.” A fact that rankled her.

  “The dating app is pushing back hard, due to member privacy concerns.”

  “Isn’t that rich? A woman is dead, possibly because of someone she met on their app, and they’re worried about protecting the privacy of a potential killer?”

  “I know, but we’re looking for one person out of a pool of men she dated, so I can sort of see their point.”

  “You can’t see their point and be on my side too.”

  Green laughed. “My apologies.”

  “Don’t let it happen again.”

  “I’ll see that it doesn’t. Are you guys getting anywhere?”

  “Not really. We met with another of the guys she was involved with around the time the baby would’ve been conceived. We gave Congressman Wilton of Seattle the shock of his life when we indicated that her baby could be his.”

  “I can only imagine how shocking that would be.”

  “Anything in the vetting documents?”

  “Nothing we don’t already know.”

  “Ugh!” Sam recalled her plan to dig for dirt on Ramsey. “In the morning, report to my office fifteen minutes before your tour begins. Tell McBride too, but only the two of you.”