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Fatal Fraud: A Fatal Series Novel

Page 11

by Marie Force


  “I’ll make it up to you very soon. We’ll kick everyone out and take a full day off together while the kids are at school.”

  “Promise?”

  “Close your new case, and it’s on, baby.”

  “I’m never going to close this case. Everyone she knew wanted her dead, or so it seems.”

  “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

  “This may be the one that stumps me.”

  “Nah, my money is on you.” He stopped at the door to the SUV, where several Secret Service agents waited for him to get in. “Are you working late?”

  “Not sure yet. I’ll let you know.”

  He leaned in to kiss her, oblivious to the eyes always trained on them. “I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  “Be careful out there this afternoon.”

  “Always am.”

  She could tell he’d much rather stay with her than return to the fortress known as the White House, but he got into the car, and the door closed behind him.

  Freddie leaned against her car, scrolling through his phone. “Ready?”

  “Don’t scratch my paint.” Sam unlocked the car and got in. “What’s the deal with Crime Scene?”

  “Haggerty wants us to come by the lab when we can.”

  “Should we do that before we see the McLeods’ daughter?”

  “Probably. Malone said they have something interesting.”

  “All right. We’ll go there first.”

  “With a stop for lunch on the way?”

  Delays annoyed her, and this day had already had too many of them, although the time with Nick didn’t count as a delay. The interview had been unexpected, but for a good cause if it made one person think differently about how they spoke to adoptive parents or about adopted children. She also wondered how big of a story Nick’s decision not to run for president was going to be. Hopefully, it’d be one news cycle, and then something else would take the stage.

  Even as she had that thought, she had a sinking feeling it might turn out to be a bigger deal than either of them was anticipating.

  At the lab, located in the city’s southwestern quadrant, Sam found Haggerty in the office he used when he was there.

  He stood when he saw them in the doorway. “I just heard the news that your husband’s not going to run. Gotta say I’m shocked. I figured he’d be a shoo-in.”

  “Turns out he’s not interested.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal.

  “It’s somewhat refreshing to hear a guy put his family ahead of his ambition. Good for him.”

  “Good for all of us.”

  They followed Haggerty to a locked room. He used a key to open the door. “Come in.” On a table inside the room, a series of yard implements had been laid out. Each of them had been tagged.

  “Per the info you provided from the ME, we looked for anything that could make a ragged wound like the one in Mrs. McLeod’s neck. We narrowed it down to these.”

  “I assume you’ve had them analyzed.”

  “We did, and while they all had grass and dirt and other refuse on them, only this one was wiped clean.” He pointed to an object with a long handle and sharp points on the end. “Unfortunately, every part of it was wiped clean. Even the handle.”

  “Figures. It can never be that easy.”

  “But I’d guess that’s your murder weapon.”

  “Where’d you find it?”

  “In a closet in a basement bedroom.”

  “So the person who killed Ginny, possibly in a fit of rage, had the presence of mind to thoroughly clean and stash the implement he or she used to do the deed.”

  “We’re pulling the drains from the downstairs bathrooms and the kitchen and taking another look at the outdoor hoses.”

  “Thanks for the info.” To Freddie, she said, “Take a picture of that, will you?”

  He withdrew his phone and snapped the photo they’d add to the murder board.

  “Let me know if the drains yield anything new,” Sam said to Haggerty.

  “You’ll be the first to know. I was reading about the fraud case. You got motive all over the place, huh?”

  “You know it. Almost everyone who knew her wanted her dead.”

  “I don’t envy you this one.”

  “Do you envy me the others?”

  Haggerty laughed. “Nope, but they do keep us in business.”

  “Unfortunately, yes, they do. Let’s hit it, Detective Cruz.”

  When they returned to the car, Sam called Jeannie McBride and asked her to do another canvass of the McLeods’ neighborhood to determine if anyone saw someone cleaning something with the outdoor hose on Sunday afternoon.

  “I’ll call you if I get anything,” Jeannie said.

  She no sooner ended that call when her phone rang with another from Darren Tabor, her favorite reporter from the Washington Star. “What’s up?” Sam asked when she took the call.

  “Seriously, Sam? You handed the exclusive of the year to that hag who asked you that awful question last week?”

  “First of all, I didn’t hand anything to anyone. That was my husband’s scoop to give to whomever he wanted. It was his call, not mine.”

  “Still… I’m disappointed.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “You could make it up to me with a scoop on the McCleod investigation. A lot of people are talking about that after what she did.”

  “I haven’t got anything yet.”

  “But when you do?”

  “I’ll keep you in mind.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Gotta go.” She quickly closed the phone before he could say anything to that and drove toward Catholic University on Michigan Avenue, with a detour to one of Freddie’s favorite sandwich shops. Sam ordered a veggie pocket, while he got a large steak bomb full of onions, peppers and cheese. The smell made Sam’s mouth water and probably added five pounds to her ass by osmosis. He downed the entire thing as well as two bags of chips and a large cola.

  Sam was living for the day when his metabolism slowed down and his horrendous dietary choices caught up to him. With her luck, she wouldn’t live to see that day.

  “I hope you have some gum or something so you don’t kill anyone with your onion breath. Namely me.”

  “I’ve got gum.”

  “Congratulations, you’ve made it so we both smell like grilled-onion BO.”

  “Maybe that’s what you smell like, but I’m like a fresh spring day over here.”

  She snorted with laughter. “Sure you are.”

  After arriving at the Catholic campus, Freddie directed her to park outside one of the residence halls. “She’s in room 311.”

  “I don’t even want to know how you found that out.”

  “It’s better if you don’t ask.”

  “I’d wonder what she’s still doing here when her mother was just murdered, but knowing what I do about the mother, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “True.”

  They followed a group of young people through the main door but were stopped from proceeding to the elevator by a security guard. “May I help you?”

  Sam and Freddie showed him their badges. “We’re looking for Mandi McLeod in 311.”

  “I can call her to come down.”

  “We’d prefer to go up.”

  They engaged in a visual standoff before the guard finally blinked. “I know who you are.”

  “That’s nice. Can you get out of my way now?”

  He frowned but stepped aside.

  In the elevator, Sam said, “For fuck’s sake. Why do people waste my time telling me they know who I am?”

  “Because seeing someone famous makes their day.”

  “Ugh. Shut up. I’m not famous.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I say I’m not famous, so that’s the end of it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Stop being insubordinate.”

  “I c
an’t. It’s too much fun.”

  She glared at him on the way out of the elevator and followed the signs to room 311. “She’d better be here, or I’m gonna be pissed.”

  “You’ll be pissed either way.”

  “True.” He amused the hell out of her, not that she could ever let him know that when he was already out of control. It was her own fault, but she wouldn’t have him any other way.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sam knocked on the door of 311, where a dry-erase board announced that Mandi and Sarah lived there.

  A young woman with wet dark hair came to the door, her eyes bugging when she recognized Sam.

  “Famous,” Freddie whispered under his breath, earning an elbow to a gut full of steak bomb.

  Sam showed her badge. “Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz, MPD. We’re looking for Mandi McLeod.”

  “I’m Mandi. Is this about my mom?”

  Sam thanked her lucky stars that they’d gotten lucky to find Mandi somewhat easily. “It is. Could we come in for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  She stepped aside to admit them into a cluttered space with clothes and towels strewn about, books stacked on desks and colored lights strung on the wall. Mandi pushed aside a pile of clothes and gestured for them to sit on one of the narrow beds.

  Sam had commuted to school, so she’d missed this part of college life, which was fine with her. Communal living had never appealed to her.

  “Did you figure out who killed my mom?” Mandi asked.

  “Not yet. I’m somewhat surprised to find you still at school. I’d think you’d be with your family.”

  “I hadn’t spoken to either of my parents in months, not since I found out what they did.”

  “They?”

  “My brother and I believe my dad knew what she was doing. How could he not?”

  That was an interesting development. “How did you find out about the scam?”

  “When the FBI and IRS began investigating her and word started getting out that she might’ve stolen from people we know.”

  “Before that, you had no idea?”

  “None. And then the list of people she stole from began to go public… Friends, friends’ parents, our godparents, aunts, uncles, neighbors, people my brother and I have known all our lives. We were shocked and disgusted and… We were so hurt. How could she do this to people we love? People who loved her? Our entire lives imploded, Lieutenant. Everyone turned on us. It’s been a nightmare.”

  “Have you been in touch with any of those people?”

  She shook her head, her eyes filling. “My own aunts and uncles won’t take my calls. The girls I played soccer with in high school hate me because my mom stole from their parents. It’s the same for my brother. None of the guys he played baseball with will talk to him. He and I have been frozen out by everyone who matters to us, even those who weren’t scammed. We’re guilty by association, I guess. I’ll have to get loans to finish my senior year of college.”

  “Your parents don’t help you?” Freddie asked.

  “Their assets were frozen by the government. And besides, after this, I don’t want anything from them. I’m working two jobs and holding down eighteen credits while everyone I care about, except my brother, acts like I’m dead to them. That’s my life now.” Hurt and bitterness crept through every word she said. “My mother was dead to me before yesterday.”

  “How did you find out about her death?” Sam asked.

  “My father called late yesterday afternoon, a few hours after he found her. I couldn’t imagine why he’d be calling me. I knew something bad must’ve happened for him to reach out. He knew I wanted nothing to do with either of them.”

  “I’m surprised you took the call,” Sam said. “Or that you hadn’t blocked them both.”

  She blinked but failed to stop tears from spilling down her cheeks. “I should’ve blocked them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. They’re still my parents. And when he called me, I just wanted to hear his voice.”

  Freddie got up to get her some tissues from a box on the bedside table and handed them to her.

  “Thank you.” She wiped her face. “I know it was weak, but I love my parents and hate them too. I hate what they did and how they ruined our lives with their greed.”

  “Do you know of anyone who might’ve been angry enough with your mom to kill her?”

  “I know tons of people who are that angry. If you’re asking if I know who actually did it, I don’t. I’m sure I’d be among the last to know. Many people think my brother and I knew what they were up to, but we didn’t. No one believes that, though.”

  “You’ve said ‘they’ and ‘them’ several times,” Freddie said. “You’re convinced it was both of them?”

  “She’s the one the government charged, but I just don’t believe he didn’t know. How could he not know? He swore to us that he didn’t and passed a polygraph, but we don’t believe him.”

  “Has he lied to you before?” Freddie asked.

  “Not that I know of. But if you’d asked me if my mom was capable of stealing from our closest friends and family members, I would’ve said no way. So who knows if they lied to us about other stuff?” She wiped away more tears before adding softly, “This has ruined my life, and I’m only twenty-one.”

  “We’re sorry for what you’ve been through,” Freddie said, always the empathetic one.

  “I have to ask where you were yesterday,” Sam said.

  “I was here all day. I had study group in the morning. I was here by myself the rest of the day.”

  “Can anyone verify that?”

  “My roommate was here in the morning, but she left around noon and was gone when I got back from study group. She didn’t come back until this morning.”

  “And you didn’t see anyone else for the rest of the day yesterday?”

  “No, after my dad called, I stayed by myself. I didn’t want to see anyone.”

  Sam gave Mandi her card. “If you think of anything else we should know, call me.”

  “Did you talk to the Realtor? Cheri Clark?”

  “Not yet. What about her?”

  “She was in this thing up to her neck with my mother, even though she wasn’t charged. Without her showing the properties, no one would’ve taken the bait. I believe my mom was paying her kickbacks, but the Feds haven’t been able to make a case that she knew what my mom was doing.”

  “Do you know where we’d find her?”

  “Chevy Chase.”

  Sam bit back a groan at the thought of more time wasted in traffic as they returned to the same area where they’d been that morning. “And your brother? Where is he this time of day?”

  “Downtown.”

  As Sam and Freddie made their way out of the dormitory, several students called out to Sam.

  “I can’t believe your husband isn’t going to run.”

  “How can he do this to us?”

  “We need him.”

  “Ugh,” she said when she and Freddie were outside. “Why do they gotta yell at me about him?”

  “Um, because you’re sleeping with him and can deliver their messages?”

  “That was a rhetorical question. You should know the difference by now.”

  “Apologies.”

  “Not accepted. Flip a coin. Heads, we go to Chevy Chase. Tails, we go downtown.”

  “Why can’t there be a third choice of neither?”

  “I know.” Even the walk to the car was annoying her because it took ten full minutes.

  “I need a snack.”

  “You just ate lunch!”

  “That was, like, two hours ago.”

  “It was forty-five minutes. No snack.”

  “You’re mean when you have motive everywhere you look.”

  “I’m mean all the time. All this motive just makes me cranky on top of being mean.”

  “That’s true.”

  When they were in the car, Sam said, “I want to bring the husban
d in for a formal interview.”

  “I was going to ask about him.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Yes, I was! I was going to say we need to talk to the husband again.”

  “Whatever you say, rock star.”

  “I was gonna!”

  “Shut up, call Patrol and ask them to pick him up at the brother’s house. You still got the address from yesterday?”

  “Yes, I still have the address,” he said, sounding annoyed that she’d even ask.

  “All right, then, get on it.” She directed the car toward Chevy Chase, full of resentment for the next hour on the road when she had far better things to do than drive through hideous traffic to get to the far northwestern part of the city.

  Freddie made the call to Patrol and gave them the address of where Ken McLeod was staying. “They’re on it.” He looked over at her. “Speaking of Patrol, I still can’t believe Captain Hernandez knew about Conklin’s role in your dad’s shooting. I can’t even imagine what that must be like for you and your family.”

  “I can’t believe the people who stayed quiet when two of their own had been murdered.” The men Conklin had protected had also been tied to the murder of her father’s first partner, Steven Coyne, decades ago. “I’ll never get over that, but I’m thankful they’re getting what’s coming to them. As for Hernandez, it was his own stupidity that did him in. Sending me a note, written in his own hand, that the answers were closer than we realized… He screwed himself.”

  “And thank God for that. Otherwise, we never would’ve known he was involved.”

  “I just wonder who else knew.”

  “You think there’re others?”

  “I’d bet my life on it.”

  “Seriously?” He shook his head. “How’s that possible?”

  “The same way it was possible that Conklin and Hernandez knew. The same reason Ginny McLeod did what she did. It’s about greed, pure and simple. Money makes the world go round, young Freddie, and people will do anything to get more of it, even sell out a friend or allow that friend to nearly be murdered to protect their cash cow.”

  “It’s disgusting.”

  “Yep, but it’s reality.”

  “How can you be so matter-of-fact about fellow officers selling out your dad for money?”

 

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