Fatal Frenzy: Book 9 of the Fatal Series

by Marie Force

  “Oh! Mrs. Cappuano! How wonderful to hear from you.”

  Sam cringed and held the phone away from her ear. “I, um, I wanted to thank you for your note and the flowers from the staff. That was very nice of you all.”

  “It was our pleasure. I hope you’re on the road to recovery.”

  “I am.”

  “I’m delighted to hear that. Is there anything I can do to be of assistance to you?”

  “Since I’m out of work on medical leave, I thought this might be a good time for that meeting you wanted to have with me.”

  “How’s today at two?”

  “Wow, you don’t mess around, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “This is embarrassing to admit, but how do I get in there? I’ve only ever been with Nick, er, Vice President Cappuano.” She still wanted to giggle when she called him that. Her husband, the vice president of the United States.

  “I’ll send a car for you. You’ll be at home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent. The car will be there at one thirty, if that’s convenient.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll see you soon.”

  “We’ll look forward to it.”

  Taking her phone with her, Sam ran upstairs to take a shower and figure out what to wear to meet her White House staff. The cuts to her arms and legs from the razor wire had mostly healed but remaining scabs on her legs had her choosing a black pair of pants and a red blazer that she matched with one of the silk blouses Tinker Bell’s personal shopper friend had bought for her.

  Replacing an entire wardrobe took some time, and after her ex-friend Melissa took a machete to her closet, Sam had half of what she’d had before. She put on the diamond key necklace Nick had given her for a wedding gift as well as her rings, which she only wore when she wasn’t working. A pair of silver hoop earrings and a bangle bracelet finished off the outfit. As she put on black high-heeled ankle boots and took a critical look in the mirror, she decided she wouldn’t embarrass herself or Nick.

  With thirty minutes to kill before the car arrived, she went downstairs, sat on the sofa and practiced the deep breathing techniques her sister Tracy had taught her in the days after the attack. She’d found the breathing and meditation helped to calm her mind and ease her anxiety.

  People were saying she wasn’t herself. She could understand the concern, but she wasn’t sure how to be anyone other than who she was now, after the fact. Something had changed in the Springers’ basement, and it might take a while to figure out who she was now. In the meantime, she continued to breathe.

  * * *

  Gonzo sat at Sam’s desk and sifted through the reports submitted by the third-shift detectives working the knife assault case. He read through the statement taken from one of the victims who’d been lucky enough to survive the attack.

  William Enright been walking on a quiet side street in the Gallaudet neighborhood, on his way home from a night out with colleagues when the assailant approached him from behind, grabbed his arm, swung him around and stabbed him in the abdomen. Luckily, the victim had remained coherent enough to fight off the attacker and call for help, but in addition to the life-threatening abdominal wound, he’d suffered significant lacerations to his hands and arms in the battle.

  The description of a tall, muscular man wearing a hat pulled down over his face and a black coat fit the description they’d been given by another victim who’d been attacked on the other side of the city in the Glover Park area under similar circumstances.

  “Knock,” Captain Malone said from the doorway.

  “Hey, Cap, come on in.”

  “Settling in here?”

  “Not even kinda. She can come back anytime now.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I saw her this morning, and I don’t think she’s coming back soon.”

  “Where did you see her?”

  “She was here for her appointment with Trulo.”

  “And she didn’t even stop by the pit to see what’s going on? That’s not like her.”

  “None of this is like her. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light.”

  “I got nothing. She doesn’t return my calls and when she texts, it’s cryptic, one-word stuff.”

  “We may have to prepare ourselves for the possibility that she won’t be back.”

  “No,” Gonzo said, shocked and amazed that the captain would say such a thing out loud. “I refuse to prepare myself for that. She’ll be back. She’s too invested in the job to not come back.”

  “I don’t know… She’s got a lot of other stuff going on now with Nick’s new job. Maybe this thing with Stahl was some sort of wake-up call that she doesn’t actually have nine lives and she needs to be more careful with the one she has.”

  “You can’t honestly believe that.”

  “You read the report. You heard what it was like for her in there. She lived for hours preparing for him to kill her while he beat and tortured her. Who’d want to come back to this bullshit after that?”

  “Sam Holland. That’s who. She’s not a quitter.”

  “No, she isn’t, but she’s as human as the rest of us underneath it all, and she took a bad, bad hit on this one.”

  “I took a bad hit not that long ago.” He gestured to the still nasty-looking wound on his neck that served as a daily reminder of how close he’d come to losing everything. “I came back. Hell, I came back before I was allowed to.”

  “I’m not, in any way, diminishing the impact of what you went through. But this was different, Gonzo. He tortured her. That messes with people’s heads.”

  “And nearly bleeding out during a gunfight with a murdering psychopath while thinking about the fiancée, son and family I expected to never see again doesn’t?”

  “Fair enough,” Malone said with a deep sigh. “I didn’t come in here to debate who had it worse. I hope you know that.”

  “I do, and I get what you’re saying about her. What he did… I think we’d all like to get our hands on him for what he put her through.”

  “Indeed. But for the time being, you’re in charge here, and I’m available for anything you might need. We appreciate you stepping up the way you have, but don’t hesitate to call on me if need be.”

  “I won’t. Thanks, Cap.”

  “So where are we with the knife guy?”

  “Same place we were this time yesterday. We’re working the case, following up on leads and tips. Got a new interview from a vic that I was just going over.” Gonzo handed the page to the captain who read it carefully.

  “The guy’s got a bit of an M.O. Attack from behind and go for the jugular or the gut if the vic puts up a fight.”

  “Right. The ones who live get ‘lucky’ that he doesn’t connect with any major arteries or organs. Dr. McNamara reported that the two who died bled out very quickly. Both were dead before EMS arrived.”

  “Any connections among the victims?”

  “Not that we’ve been able to establish—yet. We’re working on it, and now we’re working on it without two of our best detectives.”

  “I know. We need to make some sort of statement to the media about what we have so far.”

  “We have next to nothing.”

  “Let’s give them the facts of the case and let them know we’re following every lead. Maybe a briefing will lead to some more tips.”

  “I’m going to need you to authorize some OT for the squad since we’re shorthanded.”

  “I’ll take care of that. You take care of getting me a suspect—after you brief the media.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can you be ready in thirty minutes?”

  Gonzo nodded.

  “Very good. I’ll go out there with you.”

  “Okay.”r />
  Malone took off, leaving Gonzo to contemplate what the hell he could say to the media about an investigation that was stalled. He went over his notes again, refreshing his memory about what they knew so far, and typed up some brief comments that included a plea for information.

  He also made copies of the composite sketch that had been created with the help of one of the victims that showed the attacker’s general height and build as well as the coat he’d been wearing. With fifteen minutes to spare before the briefing, he took advantage of the opportunity to call home.

  His fiancée, Christina, sounded breathless when she answered on the third ring. “Hey.”

  “Hi there. What’re you up to?”

  “Doing a yoga video while Alex naps.”

  Gonzo groaned. “Don’t put those images in my head when I’ve got hours to go until I can see you.”

  Laughing, she said, “Sorry. So hours to go, huh?”

  “Yeah. They suspended Cruz, but that’s top secret.”

  “They suspended him? What for?”

  “I’ll tell you later, but that leaves me even more shorthanded than I already was. We feel like this knife guy is deliberately taunting us.”

  “You sound frustrated and overwhelmed.”

  “I’m both of those things. We’re going to have to postpone our plans—again. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s no problem, Tommy. I’m not going anywhere. The next time we have a free weekend, we’ll take off and get it done.”

  “I don’t want to think of our wedding as just another thing on an endless to-do list.”

  Her soft laughter made him wish he were home with her rather than stuck here for the foreseeable future. “Are you laughing at me?” he asked.

  “Maybe just a little. Ease up on yourself, Tommy. Our wedding will happen as soon as we have a space of time in which we have nothing to think about but each other and Alex.”

  “Thanks for being so awesome all the time. It takes a special person to be the spouse of a cop.”

  “I just want to be your spouse. You could be a garbageman for all I care.”

  “Garbage is starting to look awfully good to me right about now.”

  “This is an amazing opportunity for you. If you all manage to catch this guy while you’re in charge, it’ll be so great for your career.”

  “True, but catching him is a big if.”

  “You can do it. I have no doubt.”

  “I love you, Christina. I can’t wait to marry you.”

  “I love you too, and I can’t wait either. But I’d wait forever, so don’t let our plans add to your stress when you have enough on your plate.”

  “Turn the TV on in a few minutes. Your dashing fiancé has to brief the media.”

  “We’ll be watching.”

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “We’ll be here.”

  Gonzo always felt better after he talked to her. He never could’ve gotten through the chaotic events of the last few months without her by his side. First being shot and then being suspected of murdering his son’s mother… Gonzo shuddered at the memory of that awful day when Lori’s body had been found in her car, and all eyes had turned to him.

  Stahl had played them all like a maestro, exacting his revenge with deliberation and cold, calculated precision. Cruz had played right into his hands by attacking the man who hurt Elin. Sam had been lured in by the relative safety she felt at entering Marissa Springer’s house alone. The incident had rattled all of them, but no one more so than Sam.

  Gonzo hadn’t told anyone that he was beginning to believe that she wouldn’t be back. Why should she subject herself to the shit they encountered on a daily basis on this job when she certainly didn’t have to? Her husband was the freaking vice president of the United States. What did either of them need with a job that put her in constant danger?

  The thought of doing this job without her, however, was not one he was prepared to fully entertain. It would be a much different atmosphere in this squad without her leadership. He would be her logical successor unless one of the current lieutenants put in for it.

  With everything happening in his personal life, Gonzo wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to take on more responsibility at work. But he might not have a choice if he was thrust into the role. That’s the way things happened in this line of work. Someone flamed out for whatever reason and the guy standing next in line got caught holding the baton, whether or not he was ready.

  His partner, Detective Arnold, knocked on the door. “Malone says they’re ready for you to brief the media.”

  “Okay.”

  Gonzo collected his notes and a bottle of water and headed for the main entrance to HQ, where the reporters gathered year-round to wait for information. It didn’t matter if it was freezing, like today, or sweltering hot in the summer, they were always there waiting to be tossed a bone.

  Sam had gotten very adept at telling them a whole lot of nothing. He hoped he could do the same.

  “Ready?” Malone asked when he met Gonzo at the main doors.

  “No, but let’s get it over with.”

  When they emerged into the biting cold, the reporters surged, quickly surrounding him and Malone.

  “Back off and give us some room,” Malone barked.

  They backed off by a few inches, but began shouting questions about the knife attacks, when Sam would be back, what was happening with Stahl and everything else they could think of.

  Gonzo went through a rote recitation of what they knew so far about the knife attacks, including an update on the condition of the two victims who remained hospitalized. He distributed the copies he’d made and asked for their help in generating more tips from the public.

  “Have you found any connections among the victims?” a reporter asked.

  “Not yet. Until we know more, we’re operating under the assumption that these attacks are random. We’re asking the public to remain vigilant and aware of their surroundings at all times while walking around the city.”

  “When will Lieutenant Holland return to work?” Darren Tabor asked.

  Gonzo looked to Malone to take the question.

  “We have no comment on internal personnel matters,” Malone said.

  “But she will be back, right?” Tabor asked.

  Malone glared at the pesky reporter. “We have no comment on internal personnel matters.”

  “Can you speak to the status of Stahl’s case?” another asked.

  “He’s been remanded for trial and is being held without bail at Jessup.”

  “Why there and not here?”

  “Due to the potential for conflicts of interest in this case,” Malone said, “we requested permission to move him out of our jurisdiction, and the court approved the move.”

  “Captain, what is the mood within the department in light of the Stahl case?”

  Gonzo could feel the captain’s tension in the way he stiffened. “What do you think it is? We’re still trying to get our heads around the fact that one of our own, a man we worked with as a close colleague for many years, was capable of what he did, not only to Lieutenant Holland but to the other victims of his senseless crimes.”

  “It’s been a rough couple of months for the MPD,” one of the bottle blonde TV reporters said. “Is there any talk of the chief retiring or stepping down to make way for new leadership?”

  “The leadership we have is more than capable of steering us through whatever comes our way. That’s it for today. Thanks for your time.” He grabbed Gonzo’s arm and nearly dragged him through the doors. “Fucking vultures. And they wonder why we have to force ourselves to meet with them in the first place.”

  “The chief isn’t retiring, is he?” Gonzo asked.

  “Not that I’ve hea
rd, and I would’ve heard.”

  “You ever think about…” Gonzo had no sooner said the words than he wanted to take them back.

  Malone eyed him shrewdly. “Think about what?”

  Gonzo sighed and looked up at the captain. “About when too much becomes just that. Too much.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “The thing with Sam and Stahl… What if it was enough to drive her out of here permanently? And the chief. He’s got to be about to the point where he’s thinking life’s too short for this shit.”

  “Are you thinking that, Sergeant?”

  “No! I’m thinking about them.”

  “It’s been a rough couple of months around here. No one would deny that. It’s been a rough couple of months for you too. Not only did you have a nearly fatal gunshot wound but the mother of your child was murdered, and you were briefly caught in the crosshairs. And that doesn’t even take into consideration what happened to Sam and how we all feel about her and the animal who attacked her. Anyone would be having a crisis of faith after all of that.”

  “I’m not having a crisis. It’s not that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know. It’s nothing.”

  Malone never blinked, letting him know he’d have to do better than that.

  “Is she coming back?” Gonzo asked.

  Malone propped his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I thought she’d be back by now.”

  “So did I.”

  “She’s stonewalling Trulo, even though she knows she has to pacify him to get back to work. That tells me she’s in no rush to come back.”

  “Or she’s not ready to air it out.”

  “That’s also possible.”

  “So I’m not the only one who’s concerned.”

  “Certainly not. Came up this morning in a meeting with the brass and the other captains.”

  Gonzo wasn’t sure if he was comforted to know the brass was worried too, or more concerned than he’d been before he asked.

  “Look, just keep doing what you’re doing,” Malone said. “It’s not gone unnoticed that you’ve really stepped up when you’re barely back to full speed after your injury.”