Fatal Fraud: A Fatal Series Novel

by Marie Force

  “Did you expect the outpouring of disappointment and even anger since the vice president released his statement yesterday?”

  “That didn’t surprise me. I already knew how popular he has become, which is why I was so excited about his potential run. I was disappointed that he decided not to run, so I get why others are too.”

  They went on to talk about other potential contenders for the Democratic nomination, and Sam could almost feel the lack of enthusiasm in Halliwell’s voice. She understood how he felt. No one but Nick Cappuano would do for her either. With her beloved husband in mind, she flipped open her phone and, while stopped dead in traffic, put through a call to Avery Hill. She hadn’t yet figured out how to use the Bluetooth to make an outgoing call, but didn’t want to admit that to anyone, especially Freddie. He’d take too much pleasure in mocking her.

  “Good morning. Don’t tell me you’re blowing me off this afternoon.”

  “I reserve the right to blow you off later if my day spins out of control, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I need an inappropriate personal favor.”

  “I’m a married man now, Sam. I don’t give out those kinds of favors to other women anymore.”

  Sam snorted with laughter at how his suggestive words were dipped in the sweetest of honey thanks to his accent. “Very funny. This is about Nick’s mom. Did you see her bullshit interview last night?”

  “I might’ve caught part of it.”

  “We have to do something about her. If you could see what it does to him when she slithers out from under her rock… It’s unbearable.”

  “Ugh. That sucks. What can I do?”

  “Find her, send some agents to talk to her, put a scare on her?”

  “Hmm, well, that might be considered an inappropriate use of government resources.”

  “Not if you’re using your resources to protect the vice president.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  “Where is she?”

  “Last I knew, she lived in Cleveland, which is why I called you. I don’t have federal jurisdiction like you do.”

  “I’ll look into it. I can’t promise you anything, but I will take a look.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Regardless of Nick’s standing as the VP, this still counts as an inappropriate personal favor.”

  “Understood. I’ll owe you one.”

  “Nah, it’s fine. It’ll be fun to scare her into shutting her mouth.”

  “Trust me when I tell you, almost no one I know is more in need of a scare from the FBI than she is.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out and get back to you.”

  “Thanks, Avery. How’s Shelby feeling? I haven’t seen her in a couple of days.”

  “The mornings are rough, but the rest of the day, she feels good. She’s just really tired. Her sister told her to expect this pregnancy to be tougher than when she was expecting Noah because she has to take care of him too.”

  “I’ll check in with her to make sure we’re not working her too hard.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you this afternoon. Don’t blow me off.”

  “I’ll try really hard not to.”

  He laughed. “You do that.”

  “Thanks again, Avery. Seriously. I appreciate this, and I know Nick would too.”

  “We’ll do what we can. Talk to you in a bit.”

  “Have a good one.” Sam slapped the phone closed and zipped between two cars to gain access to the lane that was actually moving, earning her a horn blast and a middle finger from the driver she’d cut off. “Sorry. It had to be done.”

  Her phone rang, and she took the call from Captain Malone on the Bluetooth. “Morning, Cap.”

  “Morning. Checking in for the latest on McLeod.”

  “Ugh, I hate that case.”

  “I’m aware of that, but you still have to solve it, if you can.”

  “Do I really? We need to pass a law that Homicide resources should only be expended on people who deserve justice.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” he said dryly. “In the meantime, where are we?”

  “We’re working our way, slowly, through all the people who had motive. Today, we’re talking to some of the bigger investors, figuring they’d have more motive. But honestly, there’s motive everywhere we look. We’ve also got the husband and the Realtor in lockup, awaiting lawyers.”

  “I heard the Realtor is raising holy hell and talking about lawsuits.”

  “She lawyered up. Her lawyer couldn’t get there yesterday. That’s not our fault.”

  “Try telling her that.”

  “I will tell her that when I get around to her today.”

  “Nick’s announcement bumped the twenty-four-seven coverage of the McLeod case out of the headlines. Jesus, Sam. We’ve never seen this many reporters at HQ.”

  She glanced in her rearview mirror for the first time since leaving home and was a tiny bit relieved to see the black Secret Service SUV following her. Not that she’d admit that to anyone ever. “Sorry about that. I don’t know why they come to my workplace when I’ve never once given them anything about him.”

  “It’s not your fault your husband crushed the world with his announcement.”

  “Ouch. You really gotta put it that way?”

  “It’s true. I’ve felt a little less optimistic about the future since I heard he’s not running.”

  “Whereas the future is looking bright and rosy from my perspective.”

  He barked out a laugh. “I’ll bet it is.”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. I’m so relieved. I would’ve supported him no matter what he did, but I’m so much happier to support him as a private citizen than as president. VP has been enough of a drag for all of us, but especially for him. The security makes it so confining.”

  “I couldn’t do it. I give him credit.”

  “I do too, but I’ll be very glad when his term ends.”

  “What’s he gonna do?”

  “He’s not sure yet. He’s considering his options, but he’s got a few years yet to figure it out.”

  “I’m sure he’ll kill whatever he does.”

  “Thanks. I’m excited to see what comes next.” It meant a lot to Sam that the people closest to her loved and respected her husband. That was another thing that had been missing during her first marriage, when her family and friends had done little to hide their contempt for Peter.

  “The other thing I wanted to tell you was that I talked to the chief, and he’s agreed to give you some latitude to take a look at the Worthington case, but no OT.”

  Sam felt a charge of excitement at being able to tell Lenore they were going to investigate Calvin’s case again. “Thank you. That’ll mean a lot to Calvin’s mother. She’s never given up on trying to get justice for him.”

  “I remember that case and how we never uncovered a single lead. It was frustrating.”

  “Who was the lead on it? Do you recall?”

  “I think Stahl was. He was a detective then.”

  A trickle of unease rippled down her backbone. “If he was anything like he was as a lieutenant, I’m sure he left many stones unturned.”

  “I suppose we’ll find out. Have you met with Hill yet?”

  “This afternoon. You?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “How was it?”

  “Not too bad. Mostly, the Feds are looking to get a handle on roles and responsibilities and interpersonal issues.”

  “I’m sure my name came up a few times on the interpersonal issues.”

  “Once or twice.”

  “I hope you told them it’s not my fault the men in our department can’t handle a woman who’s smarter than they are.”

  “Not all the men can’t handle it, and they know that. I made sure to mention you’ve had a tough path with your dad being deputy chief when you were first with the department and then
a revered injured officer in the later years.”

  “People like Stahl and Ramsey, and I’m sure others, are convinced the only reason I’ve ever gotten anywhere was because of who my daddy was. They refuse to believe it could’ve happened because of me.”

  “The people who matter know that, Sam.”

  “I know, but it still rankles to be dismissed by idiots who are always looking for someone else to blame for their own failures. It burns Ramsey’s ass that I outrank him, but whose fault is that?”

  “One hundred percent his. He’s had disciplinary issues from the start.”

  “People like that shouldn’t be allowed to go the distance in this career. If they’re bad or corrupt, they ought to be drummed out.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, my friend. I’ve always believed that.”

  “So while I have you, Christina Billings called me last night. She’s having a stroke over Tommy taking the plea. I called the chief last night, and he agreed to have a conversation with Forrester about it. We have to stop this if we can.”

  “I agree, but we may have trouble selling it to the rest of the department, including the aforementioned men who can’t handle your success, yada, yada.”

  “I think Gonzo needs to issue a statement, owning it, citing the causes for his poor choice and tell the story of what his life has been like since his partner was murdered. In other words, play the sympathy card.”

  “I can’t see him doing that,” Malone said.

  “As far as I can tell, it’s going to be that or plead to a charge that’ll stop his very promising career dead in its tracks.”

  “We’ll have a talk with him when he’s ready. In the meantime, I’ll text him and tell him not to sign anything until we can have that conversation.”

  “Thank you.” Sam released a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as they discussed Gonzo. “It’ll mean more coming from you, and it’ll buy us some time to consider the options.”

  “That’s the idea. I’ll text him right now, make it sound like an order.”

  “That’s perfect. Let me know what he says.”

  “Will do. So you and the doc have your first grief group meeting tonight, right?”

  “That’s what he tells me.”

  “You good for that?” he asked hesitantly.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Your dad and all that.”

  “Um, well, define ‘good.’”

  “I hope it helps you and others to talk about what you’ve been through,” he said.

  “You’re welcome to come, Cap. Skip was one of your best friends. You have every right to be there if you’d like to be.”

  “I’ll think about that. Thanks for the invite, and I really do admire you and Dr. Trulo for coming up with this idea. It’ll help a lot of people.”

  “We hope so.”

  “I’ll let you get back to work. See you at some point.”

  “Later.” Sam slapped the phone closed and gave silent thanks for good friends who’d helped her through the toughest loss of her life. Knowing so many other people had loved her father and mourned his loss helped to lessen her own grief. His name came up every day, whether it be at work or at home, and the funny stories and sweet memories sustained her as she learned to navigate life without Skip Holland.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Thinking about her father and the grief group had Sam putting through a call to her sister Tracy.

  “Morning,” Tracy said. “Did you catch the case of the woman who ripped off her friends?”

  “Yep, and it’s a beast.”

  “Your husband has the whole world going crazy over his decision.”

  Sam winced. “And I should’ve told you guys before it went public.”

  “Don’t worry about that. You have enough to think about.”

  “Still… Common courtesy and all that.”

  “We’re not sweating it, and you shouldn’t either. Did you see his mother on TV last night?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. She’s so fucking gross. I might’ve asked Avery to do something about her.”

  “As in the FBI?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Oh my God! That’d be freaking awesome!”

  “That’s what I’m thinking too. Put a little scare into her and shut her up. If you could see what it does to him when she reappears… It makes me so furious.”

  “I can only imagine how badly you want to stab her.”

  “With every fiber of my being.”

  “I’m sorry. For you and for him.”

  “Thanks. I try to tell myself it is what it is, but seeing him hurt makes me crazy.”

  “It makes me crazy, too, and he’s not even my husband.”

  “Thank you for that. So I wanted to make sure to remind you that the grief group meeting is tonight if you guys still want to come.”

  “I’m hoping to get there with Ang and Celia. No promises, though. It’s minute-by-minute for all of us.”

  “Trust me, I understand that. At least we’ll have three people there besides me and Dr. Trulo.” Sam still wasn’t convinced she’d actually get Roni to go.

  “You’ll have more than just us. People need this so badly. I need it. I’ve been so… I don’t know… off, I guess you’d say, since Dad died.”

  “I know what you mean. I feel extremely off myself.”

  “And with Thanksgiving coming… Ugh. I just want to forget it this year.”

  Thanksgiving had been one of Skip’s favorite days of the year. He’d always said he’d eat the big turkey dinner every day if he could.

  “He’s supposed to be calling me nonstop to ask if I got the turkeys yet and to remind me he’s paying for them,” Tracy said, sniffling. “I keep waiting for that call.”

  Sam laughed even as she blinked back her own tears. “And every year, you’d have to tell him, ‘Dad, they’ll be rancid by Thanksgiving if I get them now.’”

  “Right,” Tracy said, laughing. “Every year. Same conversation.”

  “Remember the year you forgot to cook the giblets for him?”

  “God, yes. I thought he’d disown me.”

  “So gross. Who eats that shit?”

  Together, they said, “Skip Holland.”

  “I miss him so much, it makes me ache,” Sam said.

  “Same. I just had this conversation with Brooke,” Tracy said of her nineteen-year-old daughter, “when she asked me how long it would take until it didn’t hurt so badly anymore.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told her it would probably always hurt a little because there’s a hole in our lives where he used to be, but he wouldn’t want us to let the pain get too big. He’d say he had a good life, and he wants the same for us.”

  “That’s really perfect. Mind if I use that if I need it with Scotty?”

  “Go for it. It’s the truth. I’m sure of it. That’s what he’d want.”

  “It is.”

  “I know you’re dealing with the added grief of discovering Conklin’s involvement and that other officer. What’s his name?”

  “Hernandez.”

  “Yeah, him. That has to compound the loss for you.”

  “It doesn’t help. That’s for sure.”

  “I have no doubt that you and everyone involved will get justice for Dad.”

  “If it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  Nick took the malaise of his mother’s unexpected reappearance with him to work, dragging after a restless night of not enough sleep. He’d been plagued by old dreams of his childhood and the many days he’d sat by the window of his grandmother’s small apartment, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. The scent of Chanel No. 5, the scent of his mother, had wafted through the dream, revolting him. He hated that scent and the reminders of disappointment that came with it.

  What was she doing going on TV to talk about him when she hadn’t talked to him in months? Not since the last time she’d surfaced like algae
in a pond to stick her nose into his business during Christopher Nelson’s reign of terror, which had led to the murder of Sam’s ex-husband in a plot that had shocked Nick to his core. His mother’s involvement had only made it worse. The person who should’ve been protecting him had once again let him down. He ought to be used to it by now, but he never had figured out a way to protect his heart from her cruelty.

  It pissed him off that she still had the power to hurt him. By now, he should be long over her ability to crush him, but if last night was any indication, he was a long way from over it.

  Terry was waiting for him with the morning security briefing and other matters that required his attention, which kept his mind occupied and off the thing he didn’t want to think about. “So about that interview your mother gave last night,” Terry said when they’d completed the rest of the items on Terry’s usual morning list.

  Nick braced himself. “What about it?”

  “Trevor is juggling a bunch of inquiries for more information about your relationship with her after the statement from last night.”

  “Sam does some of her best work when my mother is involved.”

  “She does. I’m really sorry you have to deal with her like that.”

  Nick shrugged, as if his mother regularly devastating him was no big deal. “It is what it is. I learned a long time ago not to hope for her to change.” His personal cell phone rang. “Ah, look who it is. My dad is probably in a rage today too.” He took the call from Leo Cappuano, who had been just as absent as his mother when Nick was a child but had made a concerted effort to be better in recent years. “Hey, Dad.”

  Terry waved as he stepped out to give Nick some privacy.

  “Nick…” Leo was sputtering, which was unusual. “I’m just beside myself. What the hell is she thinking?”

  “I believe she’s not thinking so much as profiting.”

  “Disgusting. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make it stop.”

  “It helps that you called. Try not to let it upset you. That’s what I’m doing. And I’m sorry I didn’t call you before my decision went public. I should’ve done that.”

  “Don’t worry about me, although I’ll admit I’m a little disappointed I won’t get to sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom.”