Fatal Invasion

by Marie Force

  “Hey, sorry about this morning. What a clusterfuck—”

  “Gonzo!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You need to get over to Cruz’s place right away. Elin is gone, and there’s blood everywhere.”

  “What? What happened?”

  “We have no idea. She called him, said his name in a frantic tone, and then the phone went dead. We found the phone in the vestibule along with a lot of blood.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Bring the cavalry, Gonzo. We have to find her.”

  “Got it. We’re coming.”

  Sam walked to the stairway as Freddie came back up, dodging the blood on the stairs as he went. “What’d you find?”

  “The blood ends at the curb. She got into a vehicle.”

  Sam thought about that for a second. “Do you know her phone code?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go get it. Bag it, bring it up and let’s charge it. We can check her activity.”

  He moved quickly down the stairs and was back within seconds. Careful to not touch or disturb anything in the apartment, Freddie plugged the phone into a charger, while keeping it in the evidence bag. “I’ve been telling her she needs to get a new phone. This one doesn’t hold a charge. But she’s been so busy with the wedding and everything.”

  His voice caught on the last word, and he hung his head.

  Sam put her hand on his back, wishing she could find a way to comfort him. “Try not to go to worst-case. Not yet.”

  He eyed the bloody knife on the floor and the blood all over the counter and floor. Then he brought his tortured gaze to meet hers. “You mean to tell me you wouldn’t be freaking out if you came home to this?”

  “I would be, and I understand why you are, but she’s smart and resourceful and—”

  “And she’s bleeding. Profusely.”

  The two of them stood over the phone, willing it to charge.

  A few minutes later, the pound of footsteps on the stairs had her running for the door to greet Gonzo, Green, Jeannie McBride and Malone, noting that they too hadn’t touched the blood smeared onto the stairs. The four of them looked as undone as Sam felt.

  “Holy shit,” Gonzo whispered, taking in the blood all over the apartment.

  Sam’s brain finally began working again as the shock wore off. These things were so different, from a police standpoint, when the person involved was a close friend or loved one. “Assuming the blood is hers, Cruz was able to determine she got into a vehicle at the curb. I want you guys checking every hospital in the city to see if she’s there. And someone call emergency dispatch to see if there was a call made from her phone. Freddie! What’s her number?”

  He rattled it off while Jeannie wrote it down.

  “We’re on it,” Jeannie said. “We’ll find her, Freddie.”

  Freddie nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks.”

  Gonzo went to him, put a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly to his friend. Whatever he said brought tears to Freddie’s eyes. Gonzo hugged him. “We’re going to find her.”

  Freddie nodded again and wiped his tears. Through the bag, he pushed the button to turn on the phone, but nothing happened. “Come on!”

  “Give it a few more minutes,” Sam said, knowing as he did that every second counted and minutes were like hours at a time like this.

  While Freddie continued to stare at the phone, willing it to charge, Sam went to speak to Malone.

  Hands on hips, he took a good look around the stylishly furnished apartment. Sam was ashamed of the fact that she’d never been there. When they got together outside of work, they usually did so at her house where it was easier for Nick. After the wedding, she’d make sure they came to Freddie’s place for once.

  “What the hell is this, Sam?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

  Jeannie, who’d been in the hallway working the phones with the others, poked her head in. “No 9-1-1 call from her number.”

  “Okay,” Sam said, her heart sinking. She’d hoped that Elin had called for help and had been picked up by an ambulance or Patrol officer who might’ve taken the call. “Speaking of Patrol, where the fuck are they? We called for backup twenty minutes ago.”

  “They’re dealing with a huge accident over by Penn Quarter,” Malone said. “Ten cars involved.”

  “What if we’d encountered an active shooter here or a crime in progress?”

  “Thankfully, you didn’t.”

  They passed a tense fifteen minutes with detectives working the phones while Sam tried to keep Freddie calm.

  A shout went out from the hallway.

  Green came to the door. “GW E.R. has her! She has a severe cut to the hand that was bleeding so hard she didn’t wait around for help. She flagged down a cab.”

  Freddie covered his face with his hands as his shoulders shook. “Thank you, Jesus.”

  Sam went to him, wrapped her arms around him and held on tight until he got himself together. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to her.”

  “I thought...”

  “I know, but she’s fine. She’s fine. Or she will be after some stitches from the sound of it. Come on. Let’s go.”

  Keeping her hand on his back, Sam led him to the door.

  “Thanks, you guys,” he said to his colleagues. “I appreciate it so much.”

  “No problem,” Jeannie said for all of them. “We’re glad she’s okay.”

  “Can you...” Sam tipped her head toward the apartment.

  “Yes, of course,” Jeannie said. “We’ll clean up.”

  “Thank you.” To Malone, Sam said, “We talked to the administrator at the Beauclair kids’ school. The mom never left them there alone. Worked as a volunteer every day that they were in attendance, which was five days a week.”

  “That’s something,” Malone said.

  “I also have the address of the Beauclairs’ recently fired maid.” She handed him the page from her notebook. “Send Green and McBride to talk to her.”

  “Got it. We’ll pick it up. You stay with Cruz for as long as he needs you.”

  “See you back at the house.” She escorted Freddie downstairs, noting he still stepped around the blood on the stairs like the trained professional he was. “The others will clean up.”

  “They don’t have to. I’ll do it when we get home.”

  “They want to help.”

  “How long do you think it’ll be before my heart beats normally again?”

  “It’s apt to be a while.”

  “I was thinking of every perp I’ve ever arrested, every altercation I’ve ever had on the job. The list of people who’d have reason to get even with me is long.”

  “Not as long as mine.”

  “Long enough that it wouldn’t take much to ruin my life.” They got into her car. “We’re moving to a building with better security. If we’d had a doorman, this whole thing never would’ve happened.”

  “True, but can you afford that?”

  “No, but I can less afford to lose her. I had forty-five minutes to ponder life without her, and I’ll pay whatever it costs to ensure her safety.”

  “Can’t say I blame you. That was pretty fucking scary.”

  “Yeah.”

  That he didn’t comment on her language told her just how scared he’d been. It would take a while for the fear and shock to work their way out of his system—and hers.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  FREDDIE’S HANDS WERE still shaking when they arrived at the George Washington University Hospital fifteen torturous minutes later.

  Sam drove up to the E.R. entrance. “Go. I’ll park.”

  “Thank you.”

  He jumped out of the car and rushed inside to the main desk, where the nurse recognized him. “She’s not here.
We haven’t seen her in a while.” It took a second for him to realize she meant Sam, who was a frequent flier. “My fiancée was brought in earlier with a cut hand. Elin Svendsen?”

  “Oh right. I didn’t realize she was your fiancée. Right this way.”

  Freddie wanted to correct her. Elin wasn’t just his fiancée. She was his whole world, and when he’d thought he might’ve lost her... The rest of his life had stretched before him like a barren wasteland.

  He followed the nurse down a hallway and heard Elin crying and asking for him. The nurse pointed to a door, and Freddie rushed past her, into the room where he found Elin in a bed, her face so pale she blended in with the linens. Though tears had made her eyes puffy and red, she had never looked more beautiful to him.

  “Freddie!” While a doctor tended to her left hand, she held out her right hand to him.

  He took her hand and bent over the rail to kiss her.

  “You have to hold still,” the doctor said.

  She whimpered. “Hurts.”

  Freddie couldn’t speak or move or do anything other than breathe her in. He wanted to know what’d happened, but he couldn’t find the words to ask. His only thought or emotion was pure relief.

  “Freddie.”

  “I’m here, baby.”

  She cried out in pain.

  “Sorry,” the doctor said. “We’re going to numb it and stitch you up. The numbing will be the worst of it, but after that, you won’t feel anything sharp or painful. Ready?”

  Elin looked up at Freddie, her pale blue eyes big with fear and shock.

  “Stay focused on me,” Freddie said. “Just look at me.”

  Tears exploded from her eyes as the first shot was administered.

  He wished he could take the pain for her. Holding her head against his chest, he ran his fingers through her white-blond hair, feeling her tense with each subsequent shot to the palm of her hand.

  “That was the last one,” the doctor said.

  Elin relaxed ever so slightly. “I can’t believe this happened! Why this week?”

  “What exactly happened?”

  “I was using the knife to get a price tag off one of the candles and it slipped, slicing my palm wide-open. I tried to call you, but my phone went dead. I dropped it at some point. What a disaster!”

  “You have no idea.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “After you called, Sam and I went home to check on you and found blood everywhere—the vestibule, the stairs, the apartment. Your phone was on the floor inside the vestibule, and our apartment door was open. You can’t begin to know the scenarios that ran through my head, especially after I saw a bloody knife on the kitchen floor.”

  “I’m so sorry, Freddie,” she said, breaking down again. “You told me to get a new phone, but I’ve been so busy. And the blood was just pumping out of my hand. I almost passed out. I ran for the street and got a cab. The guy yelled at me for bleeding all over his car, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You did the right thing getting yourself to the hospital quickly.”

  “Indeed,” the doctor said as he sewed the wound. “You lost a lot of blood.”

  “We’re getting married on Saturday,” Elin said. “Can you make it so I don’t have a huge ugly bandage?”

  “We’ll set you up. Don’t worry.”

  Elin breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You’re not allowed to ever scare me like this again, you hear me?” Freddie asked, filled with gratitude as he stared at her gorgeous face. “You took ten years off my life.”

  “And mine,” Sam said when she joined them. “How’s the patient?”

  “She’s going to be just fine,” Freddie said, kissing Elin’s forehead.

  “Thank God for that,” Sam said.

  “Yes,” Freddie said. “Thank God for that.”

  * * *

  AFTER THEY FINISHED cleaning up the bloody disaster in Cruz’s apartment, Cameron Green drove Jeannie McBride to the District’s southeastern quadrant to interview the Beauclairs’ former maid.

  “That was insane back there,” he said after a long silence.

  “Totally. Imagine what he had to be thinking coming home to that.”

  “I can’t imagine. The poor guy. Thank goodness she’s okay.”

  “What a thing to have happen the week of their wedding,” Jeannie said with a sigh.

  “Thankfully all’s well that ends well.” He glanced over at her. “Could I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “The LT called me in to talk about Gonzo this morning. She acknowledged the tough spot she was putting me in, but she wanted to know if he’s seemed off to me.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “A little, maybe? I’m not sure I know him well enough yet to say, which is why I wanted to ask what you think.”

  “He’s way off and has been since Arnold was killed. If you knew him before, you’d know what I mean. He’s like a totally different person now, although I can’t really blame him.” After a long pause, Jeannie said, “What happened to Arnold was so awful, and there was nothing he could do but watch his partner die. And this was after Arnold saved Gonzo’s life when a bullet grazed his neck. Gonzo would’ve bled out without Arnold’s quick thinking.”

  “Oh damn. I’ve seen the scar on his neck, but I didn’t know how he got it.”

  “Part of me was surprised when he came back to work after Arnold was killed. He was so traumatized that I wondered if he would quit, but he told Cruz he had to come back because he has a family to support. Walking away isn’t an option for him like it was for Will.”

  “Didn’t Will end up with a cool security job?”

  “Yep.”

  “Maybe that would be better for Gonzo after everything he’s been through.”

  “Possibly, but I’d sure hate to lose him on the squad. We’re like family to each other. Losing A.J. and then Will. It’s been a tough year.”

  “You ever wonder how long the LT can hang on to the job in light of her husband’s career?”

  “She says she’s not going anywhere. Nick certainly knows what the job means to her.”

  Cameron’s phone directed them to the address Sam had given them. “That’s it there,” he said, pointing to an apartment building that had seen better days. He pulled into a no-parking zone.

  He and Jeannie walked up a flight of stairs outside the building to the second floor.

  “Was this a motel at one time?” he asked.

  “I think it might’ve been.”

  Outside apartment 2F, they stood on either side while he pounded on the door and said, “Metro PD.” He held his badge up to the peephole while listening for signs of life inside. At first, he didn’t hear anything.

  “What do you want?” a fearful-sounding female voice asked.

  “We need to speak to you about the Beauclair family.”

  “I didn’t steal from them! I love them! I would never steal from them.”

  “This isn’t about that. Would you mind opening the door please?”

  A series of locks disengaged, and the door opened to reveal a pretty young woman with a tearstained face. “I didn’t do what she said. I swear to God.” Though her speech had a heavy Spanish accent, her English was perfect. She broke down into sobs. “A-are you going to arrest me?”

  “Could we come in to speak in private?” Cameron asked.

  “Show me your badges again.”

  They held up their gold shields for her inspection. After a close look at their badges, she took a step back to admit them to the clean, well-decorated room that included a bed, kitchen, sitting area and television. She had made herself a nice home in the run-down building.

  “Ms. Cortez, I’m sorry to have to tell you, but there was a fire at the Bea
uclairs’ home last night.”

  She gasped. “The babies! My Aubrey and Alden! Please tell me...”

  “They’re currently unaccounted for. We did find two adult victims, however. We haven’t yet positively identified them.”

  She broke down into what could only be called heartbroken sobs. “Oh no, no, no. Not my family.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked as she sobbed.

  “We’re so sorry for your loss,” Jeannie said.

  “They were good people,” Milagros said. “I was hoping they would find out who stole the jewelry, so I could go back to work there. I loved them and their sweet babies. Oh, Elijah! Mr. Beauclair has an older son. Did someone tell him?”

  “We’re taking care of notifying him,” Cameron said.

  Milagros sagged into the sofa. “I can’t believe this has happened.”

  “Ms. Cortez,” Cameron said, “if I may ask, when were you let go from your job?”

  “Yesterday afternoon.” She wiped away new tears. “Cleo... She said jewelry was missing from the box on her dresser, and since I was the only one who had access, it had to be me. I tried to tell her it wasn’t me, but she wouldn’t hear it. She said I was to take my things and get out immediately. I couldn’t believe it. One minute we were chatting like we did every day, and the next she was so cold and heartless.”

  Cameron glanced at Jeannie, wondering if she found that as strange as he did. “And it wasn’t like her to be that way with you?”

  “Oh no. We were friends, or so I thought. Every day, when she and the kids came home from school, we’d have hot chocolate and cookies together, and the kids would tell us what they learned.” She jumped up and went to her refrigerator, returning with handfuls of colorful drawings that she thrust at them, as if needing them to see how close she’d been to the family. “The children made these for me. I have their school pictures.” She gestured to framed photos prominently displayed next to her television. “They are my family.” Her eyes filled with new tears that slid down her cheeks.

  “Ms. Cortez,” Cameron said, deciding to level with her, “it’s quite possible that Mrs. Beauclair saved your life by firing you.”

  She gasped. “What?”