by Marie Force
Lindsey laughed. “I hate to break it to you, Sam, but life is messy.”
“Tell me about it. Gotta get back to it. See you later on.”
In the lobby, she ran into Chief Farnsworth and Captain Malone. The god of productivity had totally abandoned her today.
“How’d it go with Kavanaugh?” the chief asked.
“About how you’d expect. He’s in total denial that she lied about everything. You can’t convince him that she didn’t love him and their life. Nick confirms that nothing about them ever seemed fake or contrived.” Sam paused as a thought came to her. “Perhaps she was hired to infiltrate Nelson’s campaign and administration, but maybe she fell in love for real. Maybe that’s what got her killed.”
“That’s as good a motive as any I’ve heard so far,” Farnsworth said.
“We’ll look into it.”
“How’s the face?” Malone asked.
“As gorgeous as ever,” Sam said, sticking her chin out for emphasis. “Wouldn’t you say?”
“Absolutely,” Malone deadpanned. “The recent work you’ve had done is a huge improvement.”
Farnsworth choked back a laugh.
“Very funny.”
“On the not-so-funny side of the house,” the chief said, sobering, “Melissa Woodmansee has filed suit against the department alleging police brutality.”
Shock radiated through Sam. That the murdering bitch would have the gall to sue them was infuriating. “It was a clean shot,” Sam said. “If Cruz hadn’t blown the detonator out of her hand, she would’ve killed us all.”
“No one is quibbling with that part of it. The suit is focused on your actions to use her injury to get her to confess to the murders.”
“I kept her from bleeding to death until the EMTs got there!”
Farnsworth raised an eyebrow. “And maybe you enjoyed stepping on her bloody stump and extracting information in exchange for pain meds?”
“Hell, yes, I did! I’d do it again. Why would we have put her out of her misery when she had information we needed to close the case?”
“Tell it to the judge,” a new voice said.
Sam spun around to find her nemesis, Lt. Stahl, smiling sweetly at her. The sight of him made her want to barf. “In trouble again, Lieutenant? Tsk, tsk, tsk. It sure seems to follow you around.”
“Screw you, Stahl.”
His face turned the murderous shade of purple that usually accompanied one of their conversations. He turned to Farnsworth and Malone. “You’re going to let her talk to a superior officer that way?” Stahl never missed a chance to remind Sam he had more time in rank than she did.
“Get back to work,” the chief barked.
With a hateful look for Sam, he waddled off to find the rock he lived under.
“I thought you were trying to get rid of him?” Sam asked the chief.
“Trying is the key word. He’s refusing to take early retirement.”
“Because he’s got nothing better to do than bother me.”
“Forget about him. The general counsel will be in touch about the lawsuit and will want to depose you and your team.”
“Fine. Whatever. See if you can postpone that until after we close the Kavanaugh case.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“What’ve you done with Agent Hill?” Malone asked.
“He had to do some FBI thing. Nick was at Kavanaugh’s parents’ house, so he gave me a ride back to town.”
“Good,” Farnsworth said. “I was afraid you were going to tell me you buried the body and hid the shovel.”
“Don’t put ideas in my head. Can I get back to work now?”
“By all means.”
As she stormed into the pit, she wondered if this day could get any more frustrating. “Someone had better have something,” she announced. Every head in the place whipped up at the sound of her voice. That pleased her—a bright spot in an otherwise crappy day. “Conference room. Five minutes. Cruz, see if you can get Ramsey down here to report on where we are with the search for the baby.”
“On it.”
In her office, Sam pulled out the bottle of pain medicine and took three more, which left one in the bottle, so she took that one too.
Gonzo appeared in the doorway and zeroed in on her face. “It’s even more spectacular than it was earlier.”
“So I’m told. What’s up?”
“Um, well, I was wondering...”
Surprised by his unusual stammer, Sam said, “Spit it out, man.”
“Christina asked me to go to the fundraiser tonight.”
“Of course she did.” Gonzo was engaged to Nick’s chief of staff, Christina Billings.
Her unflappable colleague actually seemed embarrassed, which Sam found fascinating. “We got a babysitter, and I rented a tux. But with the case and everything...”
“You can leave at six. Turn everything over to second shift.”
“Are you sure, L.T.? If you need me to stay—”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it because you don’t want to go?”
Damn if he didn’t get all embarrassed again. “I kinda want to go. With Alex living with us, we never get a night out together.” He shrugged. “As long as it’s okay with you.”
This was why she hated her world and Nick’s colliding. She was giving Gonzo permission to leave work earlier than he normally would to go to her husband’s fundraiser. What a freaking mess. “It’s okay. Let’s get to it.”
“Thanks,” he said as he turned and headed for the conference room.
Sam stepped in after him and was pleased to see Sgt. Ramsey and his partner in the room. “How are we making out with the search for Maeve?” Even though she hoped her investigation would lead them to the missing child before Ramsey’s did, she still needed to keep in touch with the SVU detectives.
“Since we issued the Amber Alert, we’ve been inundated with reported sightings,” Ramsey said. “We’re following up on every one of them.”
To his credit, the sergeant looked like he hadn’t slept in more than a day.
“Cruz, Gonzales, what’d we get from the phone logs?” Sam asked.
“A lot of numbers,” Cruz said. “We were able to tie many of the local ones to women who have children around the same age as Maeve Kavanaugh.” He handed her a printed list of five names, addresses and phone numbers. “We’re working on the out-of-state numbers.”
Sam checked her watch. “I’ve got ninety minutes until I have to be home. Cruz, let’s get to one of Victoria’s mom friends.”
“Sure.”
The single word was uttered without any of his usual enthusiasm. What was that all about? “McBride and Tyrone, a word before you go? Everyone else get back to work.” To her partner, Sam said, “I’ll be right with you.”
McBride and Tyrone exchanged uneasy glances as they waited for the others to file out.
“What’s up, L.T.?” Jeannie asked when the three of them were alone.
“My dad heard through the grapevine that we reopened Fitzgerald while he was in the hospital earlier this year.”
The discomfort emanating from the two detectives ratcheted up at the mention of the name Fitzgerald.
McBride swallowed. Hard.
Sam’s every sense was suddenly on full alert. “He wants to know about your investigation.”
“We told you, L.T.,” Tyrone said, casting a nervous glance at his partner. “We didn’t uncover anything new.”
“All right,” Sam said, playing along. Had she been so embroiled in her own case at the time that she’d failed to notice an odd vibe coming from two of her best detectives?
Jeannie kept her eyes trained on the floor.
“My dad wants to talk to you both about your investigation. Would you mind—”
“It’s not true,” Jeannie said so softly Sam almost didn’t hear her.
“Excuse me?” Sam had a feeling this day was about to go from bad to worse.
“It’s not true th
at we didn’t uncover anything new,” Jeannie said.
Tyrone’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Jeannie!”
“Shut up, Will. I’m not going to stand here and lie to her. Again.”
The partners engaged in a visual battle of wills that served to further fray Sam’s already battered nerves. “Somebody had better start talking,” Sam said. “Right now.”
Neither of them said a word for a long, charged moment until Jeannie finally looked up at Sam and made eye contact. The torment Sam saw in her detective’s pretty brown eyes made her blood run cold. Sam decided that whatever this was about, she probably didn’t want to know.
“You need to remember what was happening then,” Jeannie said. “Your dad was in the hospital, and you weren’t sure if he would make it. We had someone killing perfectly nice people, and you were receiving threatening mail.”
“I remember,” Sam said tightly. “Get on with it.”
“We, ah, we started from scratch, as if the case were new,” Jeannie said.
Sam nodded. She would’ve done the same.
“It became clear to us...”
“What?”
“Your dad. He, ah, well... He failed to follow up on some rather obvious leads.”
The blow hit Sam like a gun to the face. Of all the things she’d thought they might say, that one had never crossed her mind. As if the wind had been knocked out of her, she had to force air to her lungs. “What kind of leads?”
“For one thing,” Will said, “he never interviewed Cameron Fitzgerald’s girlfriend. We think it’s possible Cameron might’ve had something to do with his brother’s murder, but they let him go into the military a couple of days after his brother went missing. We thought that was odd, among other things.”
“What other things?” Sam’s heart was beating so hard that she wondered if it would burst through her chest. Was this why her father had forbidden her to reopen the case? A thousand thoughts cycled through her mind with each heartbeat. And why in the world had two of her most trusted detectives lied to her?
“There were all kinds of inconsistencies,” Jeannie said. “The medical examiner said your dad was ‘off’ around that time, but he refused to elaborate. He thinks fondly of your father and didn’t want to sully his reputation. Neither did we.”
Sam recalled the conversation with her sister Tracy, something about their parents that had happened during the original investigation. The idea of digging into that hornet’s nest had Sam breaking into a cold sweat.
The two detectives stood before her, vibrating with discomfort.
“I would like to know,” Sam said in a low, quiet tone, “why you felt the need to lie to me when you said you’d found nothing new.”
“We did it to protect your dad, Sam,” Jeannie said imploringly. “If we blew the lid off this case and then he died, that would’ve been all they’d say about him. We couldn’t let that happen.”
“While I appreciate your concern for me and my dad, that was not up to you to decide.”
“We thought that’s what you’d want us to do,” Will said.
“I wanted the truth.”
“We’re sorry, Sam,” Jeannie said. “We thought we were doing the right thing.”
“My father recovered, and still you didn’t come to me. You didn’t tell me that you’d lied to me.”
“We considered that,” Will said.
Sam held out her hand. “I’ll take your weapons and shields.”
They gasped.
“Why?” Jeannie asked, her face slack with shock.
“You lied to your superior officer. You’re suspended for one week without pay.” Sam kept her gaze unwavering even as she died on the inside. Not to mention that this was the worst possible time to lose two of her best officers.
“Lieutenant,” Jeannie said.
“Your shields and weapons,” Sam said again.
Will looked at Jeannie, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
Jeannie nodded to her partner and tugged the handgun from her shoulder holster. She put the gun and gold detective’s shield in Sam’s hand.
Will followed suit.
“I’m extremely disappointed in both of you. Go home. Report back next Tuesday at zero seven hundred.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said.
Sam watched them leave the room.
Will turned back to her. “Lieutenant—”
“Go.”
Jeannie grabbed her partner’s arm and dragged him along with her.
Sam took a couple of minutes to gather herself and rein in her emotions before she emerged from the conference room carrying their weapons, which drew the immediate attention of everyone in the pit. A quiver of shock and dismay rippled through her ranks as the other detectives watched McBride and Tyrone retrieve their personal belongings from their cubicles and leave without a word to anyone.
With her heart still pounding and feeling clammy from the cold sweat, Sam headed to her own office and ran smack into Lt. Stahl. As she bounced off his protruding belly, Sam fought back a vicious wave of nausea.
Naturally, he zeroed right in on the weapons and badges in her hands. “Problem, Lieutenant?”
“Nope.”
“Why do you have those weapons and shields?”
“None of your business.”
“You know damned well that if you’ve suspended any of your officers, that’s a matter for IAB,” he said, referring to the Internal Affairs Bureau where he was moved after Sam was given his former command over the homicide detectives. He’d set out to make her life miserable ever since.
He knew as well as she did that the only way this incident reached IAB level was if McBride or Tyrone fought the suspension, but Sam was fairly confident they wouldn’t. They’d be foolish to fight it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said. “Get out of my way. I’ve got work to do.”
His face turned the predictable shade of purple Sam usually relished. At the moment, she couldn’t care less. “You won’t get away with this,” Stahl said.
“Talk to the hand,” she said, flashing him the bird. She went into her office and locked the weapons in her top desk drawer. With a wistful glance at the gold shields McBride and Tyrone had more than earned in their careers, Sam tossed them in with the weapons and locked the drawer.
That was when her hands began to shake. Had she done the right thing? “Of course you did,” she muttered. “They fucking lied to you. You can’t condone that. The minute you do, you lose control of everything.”
“Lieutenant?”
Sam spun around to find Cruz in the doorway, looking at her with big eyes full of shock and dismay.
“I’ll be right with you,” Sam said. She took another moment to get it together before she stepped into the pit. All eyes landed on her. The weight of their expectations sat heavy upon her shoulders. She stood up a little straighter, in full command.
Since Stahl was already sniffing around, she made a decision right in that moment to keep her mouth shut about what had transpired with McBride and Tyrone.
“Let’s go, Cruz.” The weight of their disappointment was even heavier than their expectations had been.
Freddie jogged to catch up with her, and they walked out of HQ in silence. When they were clear of the building, she said, “Don’t ask me, because I’m not going to talk about it.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.” He pulled her car keys from his pocket and held them up.
She gestured for him to go ahead and drive. “Where to?” she asked.
“Judging from the phone logs and what Derek told us, Victoria’s closest friend seemed to be Ginger Dickenson. She has a son the same age as Maeve Kavanaugh. She’s also a stay-at-home mom and lives a few blocks from the Kavanaughs in your neighborhood.”
“What does the husband do?”
“He’s a muckety-muck at Homeland Security. Senior executive, answers directly to the secretary.”
“Good work.”
>
“Thanks.”
Sam noted the unusually clipped tone and was tempted to ignore it. “Are you pissed about something?”
Startled by the blunt question, he looked over at her and then back at the road. “No.”
Sam was ready for this day to be over. “Just tell me, will you?”
“I’m not pissed.”
“You’re something.”
“Annoyed maybe.”
“Are you going to make me pull it out of you?”
“Hill. He shows up, and suddenly I’m relegated to second string.”
Ah, she thought, her sensitive partner’s feelings had been hurt. “I don’t want him around any more than you do. I’m following orders.”
“I know that,” he said sullenly. “I don’t like him. Something about him bugs me.”
“You and Nick both.”
Freddie brightened at that news. “So he doesn’t like him either?”
“He barely knows him, but like you, he’s bugged by him. Hill’s not a bad guy once you get to know him. Like us, he’s following orders, doing his job. We can use all the help we can get on this one.”
“Getting to be a long time on the kid.”
“Yeah.” Sam watched the city whiz by out the window. It was better if she didn’t think about what Maeve might be going through��if she were even still alive. “So I need to tell you something that’s going to be upsetting to hear, but before I say it, you need to know it’s totally bogus.”
He glanced over at her. “What?”
“Melissa Woodmansee is suing the department, claiming police brutality.”
Staring at her, he said, “You’re kidding.”
“Eyes on the road!”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding, but it’s totally bogus. Everyone thinks so. Well, except Stahl, but I expect him to take perverse pleasure in anything that might make us look bad.”
“It was a clean shot. If I hadn’t taken her hand off, she would’ve killed us all.”
“That’s never been in question.”
“Then how the hell can she sue us?”
The fact that he was swearing—and “hell” was as close as he ever came to actually swearing—told Sam how upset he was. “Oddly enough, your part isn’t in question. It’s what I did after that she’s focused on.”
