Fatal Fraud: A Fatal Series Novel

by Marie Force

  “Will I need to remind you tomorrow that you have somewhere to be tomorrow night?”

  “Might not be a bad idea.”

  “You’ll be glad to know that your friend Officer Charles has agreed to help with the administrative aspects of our group.”

  “Is that so? Well, that’s awesome news.” The young officer had impressed the hell out of Sam with her attention to detail in planning the police funeral for her father. She’d pleaded with the chief to share Officer Charles with her and was thrilled to know she’d be involved in the grief group.

  “It is indeed. She can’t make the first meeting because she’s on duty, but she’s going to be helping behind the scenes. You should talk to her about her own history with violent crime and how she came to be a police officer. Fascinating young woman.”

  “I’ll do that, and yes, she is.”

  “All right, then. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for all you did to get this off the ground, Doc.”

  “It was your idea. I just took the ball and ran with it.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Have a good evening, Lieutenant.”

  “You too.”

  Though everything in her desperately wanted to get home to her family, she took a detour back into town and parked outside Roni Connolly’s building. In the vestibule, she pressed the button for 3C and waited for a response. When there was no answer, she pressed the button a second time.

  “Yes?”

  “Roni, it’s Sam Holland. Could I come up for a minute?”

  “Um, sure.” She buzzed her into the building, and Sam went inside, letting the door slam behind her.

  Hearing pounding on the door had her looking back to see the two agents glowering at her. She went back to let them in. “See if you can keep up, gentlemen.” Without waiting for them to reply, she spun around and took the stairs to the third floor two at a time. Outside 3C, she knocked.

  Roni opened the door and stepped aside to invite Sam inside.

  Sam held up a hand to the two agents, who’d followed her up the stairs. “Wait here.”

  She could tell Vernon wanted to object to being told to wait outside, but Sam didn’t stick around to hear his concerns.

  “This is a nice surprise,” Roni said in a dull, flat tone that was in direct contrast to the woman she’d been before Sam had shattered her world with the news of her young husband’s senseless murder. She’d known her for two minutes before she’d had to deliver that news, and even she could see the difference.

  Roni had dark hair that fell to below her shoulders, and while her brown eyes were still sad, they’d lost some of the shock that’d been so present the last time Sam saw her.

  Sam followed her to sit on the sofa. “How’ve you been holding up?” She hated herself for the stupid question. How did she think the young widow was holding up?

  “Good minutes, bad minutes.” Roni shrugged. “You know how it is. You just lost your dad.”

  “I do know, but my dad was a lot older than Patrick…”

  “A loss is a loss, no matter when it happens.”

  “True. Remember that grief group I mentioned a while back?”

  Roni nodded. “What about it?”

  “The first meeting is tomorrow night at MPD HQ. I have no idea if the group will be any help at all, but I’d really like to invite you to come if you’re able to. I have to believe it’ll do some good, you know?”

  “Maybe. I’m back to work, and some days are busier than others. I’ll have to see how I am tomorrow, but I do appreciate the invite.”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s really nice of you to come by to check on me. Darren has told me you’ve asked about me, and that’s just such a huge honor with all the people you must deal with.” Roni wrote obituaries for the Washington Star, where Darren worked.

  “I’ve thought of you so often.”

  “It means a lot.”

  “Listen, I’m going to be honest with you. Maybe too honest.”

  “Um, okay…”

  Sam was gratified to see a hint of amusement in the younger woman’s eyes. “I’m a shit friend. I’m busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. I’ve got no time for anything. I have no idea what I’m even doing here, but I like you. I’d like to be your friend if you could use an extra one. And I’d totally understand if seeing me is too much of a painful reminder of the worst day of your life. Wait… Are you laughing?”

  Roni waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry, but that was funny. I’m a shit friend, but I’d really like to be friends with you. Way to sell yourself, Lieutenant.”

  “My friends call me Sam.”

  “Sam,” she said with a small smile. “And I’d be honored to be friends with a woman I admire so much.”

  “Oh jeez. Don’t do that. I’m a red-hot mess.”

  “Well, you’d never know it from the outside looking in.”

  “If I let you into the inside, you have to promise to not look too hard at the messy parts.”

  “I promise. Can I tell you something?”

  “You can tell me anything. We’re friends now.”

  “Some of my closest friends from before Patrick died have disappeared off the face of the earth. I never hear from them or see them.”

  “People don’t know what to do with other people’s grief. I’ve seen that in my own life.”

  “It’s just that I want you to know, as my new friend, it means a lot to me that you went out of your way at the end of what was probably a hideously long day to come by and see me. You’re already doing way better than most of my longtime friends, which is admirable for a shit friend.”

  “I like you,” Sam said, laughing.

  “So you said.”

  “If I pick you up tomorrow night around six forty-five, would you be more or less likely to attend our meeting?”

  “Slightly more likely.”

  “Then I’ll be outside tomorrow at six forty-five. Come if you want. Don’t come if you’re not up to it. I’ll come every Tuesday until you decide you might be ready.”

  “That’s a lot to ask of a new friend.”

  “Maybe you can help me change my track record for being a shit friend.”

  “Maybe so. Tell me this, girlfriend, what’s up with your husband deciding not to run for president?”

  “Heard about that, huh?”

  “Safe to say the whole world has heard. It’s the only story cable news is covering.”

  “Oh joy.”

  “Is that why you’ve got a couple of big dudes following you around?”

  “Yep. Nick asked me nicely.”

  “Just so we’re straight—I’m devastated he’s not running. I think he’d be a remarkable, inspirational leader.”

  “Thank you. I think so too, but between us friends, I’m thrilled he’s going to be a remarkable, inspirational father to our kids instead.”

  “I get that, and I respect it, but damn… Other people are losing it.”

  “So I’ve heard. I try to stay away from that crap so I can act like it’s not happening.”

  “Good plan. Don’t turn on the TV tonight.”

  “Thanks for the advice. I’d better get home so I can see my little ones before they’re asleep for the night.”

  “I’d love to meet my new friend’s family at some point.”

  Sam stood to leave. “That can be arranged. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. Either way is fine.”

  Roni walked her to the door. “Am I allowed to hug my new friend?”

  “Very briefly.”

  Roni laughed as she hugged Sam. “Thank you so much for the visit, for being my new shit friend, for all of it.”

  Sam hugged her back. “You may live to regret this friendship.”

  “I don’t think I will.”

  Sam handed her one of her cards. “My number’s on there. Use it anytime you need a shit friend.”

  “I will. Thanks.�
�

  Feeling good about the visit, Sam left the apartment and went down the stairs, hearing the heavy footsteps of the agents behind her. Outside, cold air reminded her that the long winter was coming, and while the winter used to drive her crazy with its endlessness, now it was a chance to hunker down with her love and their kids. Winter didn’t piss her off anymore, but plenty of things still did. Such as the agents following her.

  She felt good about the conversation with Roni and to see the young woman doing slightly better than she’d been the last time Sam saw her. She hadn’t gone in there planning to offer friendship. That’d been spontaneous, but it had felt good to make that overture and to have Roni accept it. She wasn’t someone who ran around making new friends on the regular, but she suspected Roni would be worth the effort. From the first day Sam had met her—on the worst day of Roni’s life—Sam had felt a connection with her, and she was glad they’d be keeping in touch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was nearly eight by the time Sam turned onto Ninth Street, which was completely overrun with media and the largest Secret Service presence she’d seen yet since Nick became vice president. “Christ have mercy,” she muttered as the agents worked to clear a path for her to get to the checkpoint. Ten minutes later, she parked in her assigned spot outside their home.

  She was about to get out of the car when her phone rang with a call from Gonzo’s fiancée, Christina Billings. Groaning at yet another delay, she took the call because that’s what Gonzo would do for her in the same situation. “Hey.”

  “Sam! You have to do something!”

  “About?”

  “You can’t let him plead guilty to charges that’ll kill his career!”

  “I tried to tell him that, but he seems very determined.”

  “So talk him out of it. This is crazy! He was sick when he did what he did. He’d never have done that in his right mind. You know that as well as I do.”

  “I do know that, but it’s not that simple, Christina. Somehow, people in the department found out, and now it’s not possible to put the genie back in the bottle.”

  “People listen to you, Sam. You could fix this for him. Please. He’s worked so hard on his recovery. Even though he seems resigned to pleading, something like this could wreck him.”

  “I know,” Sam said, sighing. “I’ve had the same fear, and I’ve raised it with the commanders. The chief was planning to talk to USA Forrester about it, and I’ll follow up with him tomorrow to see where we are.”

  “Thank you,” Christina said, sounding relieved. “He may not be strong enough to fight back on this, but I’m strong enough to fight for both of us.”

  “Good. He’s going to need that.”

  “Please, Sam. Please don’t let this happen.”

  “I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry to call you in a panic, but I just now heard of his plan to plead out.”

  “I would’ve thought he’d talked to you about it.”

  “He didn’t because he knew what I would say.” Christina paused before she continued. “We’re finally getting him back. A hit like this… I just don’t know if he’d survive it, Sam. He’s being so matter-of-fact about it, but you know how he really feels.”

  “I do, and I’ve been as upset about it as you are. Any word on a release date?”

  “In time for Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s great. I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “Me too. You have no idea…”

  “We’re all going to be there for him and for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Sam closed her phone without the usual smack that gave her such satisfaction. After pondering the situation for a few minutes, she decided to do something she rarely did and called the chief on his cell phone. She saved that card for only the most critical of situations. This certainly counted.

  “Hey,” he said when he answered. “What’s up?”

  “This is your niece Sam calling her uncle Joe for a work-related personal favor.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Have the zombies arrived and no one told me?”

  That made her laugh too. “Not yet, but I’ll let you know if they do. This is about Gonzales.”

  “Ah, yes, and the plea deal, I presume?”

  “That deal is total bullshit. He was suffering from PTSD after his partner was murdered right in front of him. Rather than charging him with a crime, we ought to be thanking him for his service.”

  “You know I completely agree with you, but people found out about it, and now it’s out of my hands.”

  “People meaning Ramsey, who’s been digging for shit on my team because of his beef with me.”

  “I never heard where the info came from, just that it was credible. It was sent anonymously to the USA’s office. By the time I heard about it, there were already charges pending.”

  “Call USA Tom Forrester, Chief. Remind him that Arnold was killed three feet from Gonzo after he let him take the lead for the first time. Gonzo believes he should’ve taken the bullet himself. We have to at least try to fix this.”

  “I’ve been talking to Tom and doing what I can. No guarantees.”

  “I appreciate the effort. Here’s what I’m thinking: We have Gonzo make a statement, owning what he did and why and going public with the struggles he’s endured since his partner died. It’ll be a big ask of him after everything, but I think he’d do it. So he owns what he did and understands that as a law enforcement officer, he should’ve done better. I think we could spin it in conjunction with Forrester, who could say, in light of Sergeant Gonzales’s long stint in rehab and his distinguished career, as well as the circumstances of his partner’s murder, he’s declining to pursue charges because no one was hurt by what Gonzo did except Gonzo.”

  “It’s a good idea. I’ll pitch that to Tom and see what he says.”

  “Gonzo might object to playing the sympathy card to avoid charges, but I say it’s worth a shot. I can probably talk him into it.”

  “If anyone can, you can.”

  “Thank you. I think. And thank you for trying.”

  “Anything for you, kid, as long as you never tell anyone I said that.”

  “Said what? Have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  Sam closed the phone and got out of the car as Nick came down the ramp toward her.

  From the checkpoint, reporters began shouting questions at them.

  “Why aren’t you running?”

  “Tell us the truth. Why don’t you want to be president?”

  “Any chance you’ll change your mind?”

  “Is it because of the Nelson scandals?”

  Nick put his arm around Sam and escorted her up the ramp and into the sanctuary of their home.

  Sam nodded to Nate, the Secret Service agent working the door, while wondering if her detail would go home for the night or stay outside. She didn’t care enough to ask.

  “I was worried when you didn’t come in,” Nick said.

  “I was on the phone. Christina called about Gonzo’s plea bargain, asking me to do something to stop it. I called the chief, and he’s going to talk to Forrester again tomorrow.”

  “I hope they can work something out, because it’s screwed up that they’re even considering charging him.”

  “Agreed.”

  “What do you want first? Kids or food?”

  “Definitely kids. Are the Littles still awake?”

  “Yep. Scotty is reading to them.”

  “Let’s go.” As she led the way upstairs, Sam said, “After I close this case, I want a full day with my family. We’ll take them to the farm.”

  “Graham was just saying we haven’t been there in too long.”

  “Maybe we’ll sleep over at the cabin.” John O’Connor had left Nick a small cabin located a few miles from Graham and Laine’s place in Leesburg. They used it as a getaway from time to time. “I hate that I have so l
ittle time with the kids on days like this one.”

  “You give them plenty on the other days. Don’t worry. They’re very well loved, and they know it.”

  “Keep telling me that.”

  “Anytime you need to hear it.”

  At the doorway, they stopped to watch as Scotty read to the twins, who were snuggled up on either side of him. Seeing the three of them together always made her heart feel too big for her chest, and never more so than when Scotty was in big brother mode.

  “One more,” Aubrey said when they finished the story.

  “No more. You two are up way past your bedtime.”

  Sam held back a laugh at how much he sounded like his father. She stepped into the room and took Scotty’s place between them after he got off the bed. “Snuggle me, little people. I missed you so much today. Tell me everything that happened.”

  She listened to stories from the front lines of kindergarten, about how Maisy had put glue up her nose, and Taylor got glitter in her eye, and Billy’s mom had brought in cupcakes with green icing that turned their tongues green. They had her laughing and nearly crying over how sweet and cute and funny they were. She stayed with them until she could tell they were ready for sleep and then kissed them both good night.

  “Cuteness overload,” she said to Nick when she rejoined him in the hallway. “And I need to take cupcakes to their class.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.”

  “Um, where will you get these alleged cupcakes?”

  She glared at him as they went downstairs. “I’ll make them.”

  “Oh. Um. Well, do you know how?”

  “Yes, I know how. What do you take me for?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “You’re full of beans tonight, Mr. Vice President.” Sam peered into the oven to see what Shelby had left warming. Enchiladas. Yum. “Is that because you’ve got the whole country losing its collective mind over your decision not to run?” She grabbed pot holders from the counter and retrieved her dinner.

  “I can’t believe the way this went down. It never occurred to me I’d be told I was obligated to run. We have people working overnight in the office to handle the phones. It’s madness. And Trevor says I need to give another interview because people have more questions.”