by Marie Force
“As soon as possible.”
“Maybe we can do it on Thanksgiving and surprise the hell out of everyone.”
“That’d be fun.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You don’t want something bigger and better?”
She shook her head. Once upon a time, she might’ve wanted bigger and better, but life had taught her to be thankful for smaller things. “All I want is you and Alex and our life together. I couldn’t care less about anything other than that. We have so much to be thankful for. Thanksgiving seems like the perfect time to take that next step. Both our families have been on hold until we figure out our plans, so how about I tell them dinner’s at our house this year?”
“Sounds perfect to me.”
After Dr. Trulo arrived at the Townsend home, Freddie briefed him on what’d taken place with Hattie and the promises he’d made to her. “I’m convinced that with the proper care, Hattie could make a full recovery from the agoraphobia and paranoia that’ve set in since she and her husband were victimized by Ginny McLeod.”
“The murdered woman who defrauded her friends and family?” Trulo asked.
“Right. The Townsends were among her victims, and when you talk to Hattie, you’ll understand the impact that’s had on her, which led to today’s events.”
“What about you, Detective? I understand she pulled a gun on you and assaulted you.”
“I’m fine. Let’s worry about her. She’s the one who needs your help, not me.”
“I’ll take care of her, but I want to see you in my office tomorrow to discuss this further.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Nonnegotiable, Detective.”
Freddie stared at the doctor for a long moment, hoping he would blink. He didn’t. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. Can I take you in to see Hattie now?”
“Lead the way.”
An hour later, Freddie drove away in Sam’s car, heading for home in Woodley Park. He needed to see Elin right now. She was the only thing he could think of as he drove faster than he should’ve, tempted to use the lights and siren to get there faster. He resisted, but just barely. It took ten precious minutes to find a parking space near their building and another ten to jog the short distance home. He took the stairs two at a time and nearly dropped his keys twice as he tried to get in the door.
Elin saved him when she pulled it open, her white-blonde brows furrowing with confusion. “I’m glad it’s you. I thought someone was trying to break in.”
“It’s me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just need this.” He put his arms around her and held her so tightly she let out a squeak.
“Freddie! Let me breathe.”
“Sorry.” He dropped his head to her shoulder, filled with relief to be back with her when he’d had reason to wonder if he’d ever see her again.
“You’re freaking me out.” She ran her fingers through his hair and gave a gentle tug, compelling him to look at her. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” If he told her, she’d worry about him even more than she already did. “Just a weird day, and I couldn’t wait to see you.”
“You’re supposed to be working for a few more hours. You said you’d be home late.”
“I cut out early.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you.”
“You don’t do things like that when you’re working a new case. What gives? And don’t tell me it’s nothing.”
“Something happened, but I don’t want you to worry. I was completely fine. Well, most of the time, I was completely fine, but it was kinda weird and…”
“What happened, Freddie?”
“I went to interview one of the people our vic scammed.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah, Sam had to go back to HQ to interview two people we had in lockup for almost twenty-four hours. We decided to split up because we were way out in Maryland.”
“What happened?”
“When I got to the woman’s house, she pulled a gun on me, and, well, she basically took me hostage for a very short time.”
“Jesus,” Elin said on a long exhale.
“I talked to her and made her see I could get her help to deal with the issues she’s developed since Ginny McLeod stole their money. Dr. Trulo came, he’s helping her, and it’s all fine. But I wanted to see you.”
She looked up at him with the stunning blue eyes that had never failed to slay him from the first time he ever saw them. “Why did you want to see me so badly?”
“I always want to see you.”
“Why, Freddie?”
“Because,” he said, sighing, “for a minute—and it was only a minute or two—I was afraid I might not see you again, and that made me sadder than I’ve ever been in my life.”
She wrapped her arms around him and brought his head to rest again on her shoulder. “How will I bear to let you go back to it tomorrow?”
“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“You arrested her, right?”
“No, she’ll be on a seventy-two-hour psych hold, during which we hope she’ll be convinced to seek in-patient help.”
“She held you hostage.”
“She’s mentally ill. Arresting her won’t do anything but make a bad situation worse.”
“She could’ve killed you.”
“She didn’t. We should have a baby.”
“What? Where’s that coming from all of a sudden?”
“It’s not all of a sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”
“What happened to not wanting to bring children into this messed-up world we live in?”
“Sam made me see that we can’t judge our own lives and how we live them by the screwed-up stuff we see on the job, because it’s out of proportion to regular life.”
“And after you have this scary experience, suddenly you’re ready for a baby?”
“Not just because of that. Don’t you want one too?”
“I do, but not right away. Can we have a year to enjoy being married before we have a baby?”
“I suppose we can do that, but we’re going to need to do a lot of practicing so we’re ready when the time comes.”
She laughed, as he’d fully expected her to. “If we practiced any more than we already do, we wouldn’t get anything else done.”
“I’m fine with that since there’s nothing else I’d rather do than practice with you.”
“Starting now?” she asked as he walked her backward toward their bedroom.
“Starting right now.”
“Hey, Freddie?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Thanks so much for not getting killed today. I wouldn’t know how to live without you.”
“All I could think of the whole time was you and getting home to you. That’ll always be my top priority.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sam had almost forgotten about Avery waiting for her in the conference room, until she returned to the pit with Valerie in tow and heard him in there talking on the phone. Days like this tested her fortitude, and this one wasn’t over yet by a long shot. Then she remembered the grief group meeting, and she groaned out loud.
“What’s wrong, Lieutenant?” Cameron Green asked.
“Everything is wrong. I hate this case, my partner got taken hostage, I’ve got the proctology meeting with Hill and the grief group tonight, and this day has officially reached endless status. Other than that, I’m just dandy.”
Green’s lips quivered as his eyes danced with amusement.
“If you laugh, you’re fired.”
“I wouldn’t dare laugh, but I do have something that might interest you.”
“What’s that?”
Cameron glanced at Valerie, brow raised in inquiry.
“This is Valerie, a criminal justice senior at American,” Sam said. “Valerie, this is Detective Cameron Gree
n. She’s interning with me today. You can speak freely in front of her.”
“Two things, actually. One, Jeannie got signed statements from all of Ken Sr.’s golfing buddies that he was on the course all afternoon.”
“Well, that’s something, I guess.”
“This is even better,” Cam said. “Multiple trips to the Cayman Islands by our friend Mandi McLeod over the last two years.”
“Okay…”
“You know the Cayman Islands are a tax haven, right?” Cameron asked.
“They’re a popular place to store money you don’t want subjected to taxes,” Valerie added.
“That’s right,” Cam said, seeming impressed by the young woman.
“I think I knew that,” Sam said, intrigued by the info. “The Feds didn’t pick up on the trips?”
“I don’t think they did, because they investigated Ginny and Ken—hard—but didn’t dig much deeper. I found this connection through the daughter’s social media, a private Instagram account called Finsta that I managed to access through means we’re better off not discussing. She posted five different sunset shots that were tagged at Seven Mile Beach, Georgetown, Grand Cayman, over the last two years.”
“Multiple trips or pics from the same trip?”
“Judging by the dates, four different trips.”
“And there’s no sign of the parents being there at the same time?”
“Nothing public and no sign of the expenditures on their financials from around those dates. I figure Mandi must’ve paid under some sort of alias or had a fake passport or some way to travel undetected.”
“This is great work, as usual, Detective. Go pick up Mandi McLeod at Catholic University.” Sam wrote down the name of the dorm and her room number. “Take O’Brien with you and ask Patrol to back you up.” After Freddie’s mishap earlier, she was taking no chances.
“Will do.”
“We’ll let Ms. McLeod spend the night at the three-hots-and-a-cot hotel downstairs and deal with her in the morning.”
“Are we charging her?”
“Not yet. Let me talk to her first and get a feel for what she knew and when she knew it. To hear her tell it earlier, she was nothing but outraged at what her mother did. I’m not sure if she was a willing coconspirator or she took four innocent vacations to the Cayman Islands over two years. And until I know which, I don’t want to charge her.”
“Got it.”
“Give me an update when you’re back with her.”
“Will do.”
“After that, you can take a half day.”
Cameron laughed. “Gee, thanks, Lieutenant. You’re a generous boss.”
“I do what I can for the people.” Referring to the legendary Skip Holland Half Day made her feel closer to her dad.
“So,” Sam said to Valerie, “that’s about what it’s like around here on any given day.”
“This has been the coolest day of my entire life. Watching you interrogate suspects was breathtaking. You’re so good.”
“Thank you.” Sam handed her a business card. “Call me when you’re ready to start your career. I might be able to help.”
“I’ll never forget how getting hassled on the Metro turned into the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“Please don’t repeat anything you saw or heard here.”
“I never would. Can I hug you and take a selfie?”
“If you promise to make it quick and not post the selfie on social media.”
“Swear to God.”
Sam gave her ten seconds for the hug and the photo. “Keep in touch.”
“I absolutely will. Thank you again for an unforgettable day.”
“Sure thing.” Sam watched her head toward the lobby exit, hoping she’d hear from Valerie again. She had a feeling the young woman would make an outstanding law enforcement officer.
“Lieutenant,” Avery called from the conference room. “Ready when you are.”
“Ugh, the proctologist beckons.”
“You do have a way with words, LT,” Green said as he signaled for O’Brien to join him as they went to find Mandi McLeod.
“I’m coming, Hill. Let me grab my water.” She went into her office, took her hair down from the clip that held it out of her way while she worked and found the now-warm bottle of water she’d bought earlier from a vending machine in the break room. Chugging half of it, she grabbed a pad and pen and went into the conference room to get the meeting with Hill over with.
“I’m here. What do you want?”
He grinned as he stood to close the conference room door. “Charming, as always.”
“Charm is my middle name.” Sam always hated to admit, even to herself, that Avery Hill was a fine-looking man with light brown hair he wore swept back off his forehead, prominent cheekbones, golden eyes and a South Carolinian accent that could make even the most stalwart of panties go damp. Her friend Shelby Faircloth, Avery’s new wife, was one lucky woman. Not that Sam ever gave him a thought when he wasn’t right in front of her face, but she never failed to notice how handsome he was.
“What can I do for you, Agent Hill?” she asked, using her sweetest, most solicitous tone.
“I want to talk to you about some of your favorite people—Stahl, Conklin and Hernandez.”
“Oh joy. My favorite old boys’ club.”
“Before we do that, though, I wanted to tell you my team is doing some digging into your mother-in-law. Nothing to report yet, but we’re finding some interesting things.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the least. She’s scum.”
“It might take a while, since we’re doing this between other things.”
“That’s no problem. Whatever it takes.”
“So about the reason we’re here… I’m sorry to do this to you, Sam. I truly am.”
She shrugged. “I’m starting to get past the initial shock of Conklin and Hernandez, and I’m well past the realization that Stahl was always a dick.”
“We’re reviewing their past cases and digging deep into whether Conklin and Hernandez’s involvement in your dad’s case was a one-off or if there was a pattern.”
Sam’s stomach dropped. “Jesus. It never occurred to me that Dad’s case could be the tip of an iceberg. The thought of there being more makes me feel sick.”
“You and a lot of other people around here. I want you to know—we’re not looking to discredit this department as a whole. Only the people who deserve to be discredited. We’re well aware of the great work you and many others are doing here every day.”
“Thank you for that, but I certainly know that not everyone approaches the job the same way you and I do.”
“When you think back to working with Stahl and Conklin, what stands out?”
“Stahl was always a pain in the ass because he could as the LT. And when he moved to Internal Affairs, it was even worse. He was drunk on his own power. He tried to make an issue out of overhearing Detective Arnold make a joke about how he hadn’t been invited to my wedding.”
“What kind of issue?”
“An IAB hearing kind of issue. He never missed a chance to bust my balls any way he could think of. It was nonstop. When he was my actual boss, it was a full-on nightmare for me.”
“Did you know why?”
“Nope. I assumed it had something to do with my dad. They came up through the ranks together, never really got along, butted heads, etc. So when Stahl had Skip’s daughter under his command, he made sure to fully maximize the opportunity.”
“That must’ve been fun.”
“All kinds of fun that occurred at the same time I was married to passive-aggressive Peter, and my father had been recently paralyzed in a shooting on the job. Neither my boss nor my husband gave me an ounce of slack during that time. Let me tell you, those were the good old days.”
“Sounds like it. Did you suspect Stahl of cutting corners when he was your LT?”
“All the time. He was constantly telling us to hurry up, g
et him something, didn’t matter what it was. Mostly, we ignored him, but he was relentless in his efforts to close cases at any cost.”
“Do you think he manufactured evidence or anything like that?”
“Not that I could ever prove, but his methodology was always questionable.”
“How so?”
“He would skip over people the rest of us wanted to interview and tell us to focus on the most likely suspect, but I’ve found the most likely suspect isn’t immediately obvious.”
“Can you think of any cases that might’ve been glossed over or handled badly by Stahl, Conklin, Hernandez or anyone else, for that matter?”
“As a matter of fact… Hang on a second.” Sam left the conference room to go into her office to retrieve the Worthington file. When she returned, she closed the door and laid the file folder on the table. “Calvin Worthington, age fifteen, was fatally shot in Southeast on his own property fifteen years ago.” She placed a photo of the smiling young man on the table and pushed it across to Avery, followed by the medical examiner’s photo of the chest wound that’d ended his life.
“I was in my first year in Patrol, and I took the call. I’ve never forgotten his mother’s agonizing grief or the way the case seemed to go cold almost immediately. Stahl was the detective assigned to the case, and that was the first time I tangled with him. I kept asking him what was being done to find Calvin’s killer, and he told me to mind my own business and stay in my lane. He was so annoyed that a lowly Patrol officer questioned him. Later, I realized that the fact my last name was Holland made it doubly galling for him.”
“The file is rather thin for a homicide.”
“Exactly.”
He opened the file and flipped through the pages, scanning the reports. “You offered a more detailed description of events just now than the detectives who investigated it did.”
“They barely investigated it. I remember being enraged that they didn’t give it much attention, but it happened during an outbreak of shootings and domestics, and the case just got overlooked. But I never forgot Lenore or her terrible grief. When I saw her the other day for the first time in years, I knew exactly who she was and why she’d come. She said she heard I’d closed my dad’s case after four years, and even though fifteen is a lot longer, maybe I could take another look at Calvin’s. She reminded me he would’ve been thirty this year.”
