Fatal Accusation (The Fatal Series)

by Marie Force

  “My heartfelt apologies. I hope you can eat eight meals a day for life and never gain a pound. Better?”

  “Much. Park over there.”

  “Finding an open spot on the street around here is like spotting a unicorn on the National Mall.”

  “Seriously.”

  They hoofed it inside the majestic train station that also housed shopping and a wide array of restaurants. The place brought back a lot of memories for Sam.

  “I used to hang out here with my friends in high school.”

  “I’ve always loved this building.” He consulted the directory and led her to the phone store where her appearance had the salesclerks falling over themselves to assist her.

  For fuck’s sake. Sam picked a young woman who wasn’t making a total fool of herself. She held up two pieces of her beloved flip phone. “How do I get a new one of these.”

  The other salesclerks took a step back, suddenly not as interested in her business as they’d been before they saw her phone.

  The woman named Michelle took the phone from her, examined it closely and then handed the pieces back to Sam. “They don’t make these anymore. In fact, the network that runs these phones is due to shut down at the end of the year. We’re moving everyone to the new network when they upgrade.”

  “I don’t want the new network or a different phone. I want a new version of what I already have.”

  “I’m sorry that we don’t carry those phones anymore. It wouldn’t be right for us to sell them to our customers when they won’t be able to use them in a couple of months.”

  Beside her, Freddie cleared his throat, which meant he was trying not to laugh.

  Sam’s head felt like it could explode at any second.

  “The good news is we carry other flip phones that might work for you.”

  Sam sent a smug smile Freddie’s way. “Take me to them.”

  Thirty minutes later, she had a brand-new cherry-red phone that made a satisfying smacking sound when she slapped the two ends together. “You hear that?” She slapped it closed in front of Freddie’s face.

  “You might want to ease up on the slapping. That’s probably what got you into this predicament in the first place.”

  “The slapping is the best part of the flip phone. I need to make a call on my new phone.” She found Nick first on her list of contacts that the lovely Michelle had copied over for her and put through the call.

  “Hey, babe.”

  “MPD to White House, come in White House. I’m calling you on my brand-new phone.”

  “You got a new phone?”

  “I did.”

  “And it must be a flip phone or you’d be snarling and snapping.”

  “You are correct, sir. It makes a very satisfying smacking sound when I slap it closed.”

  “Then all is right in our world.”

  “You know it. Young Freddie tried to freak me out and tell me I wouldn’t be able to get another flip phone, but he was wrong. Do you know how much I love it when he’s wrong?”

  “Almost as much as you love it when I’m wrong?”

  “He’s wrong way more than you are, so it’s more fun with him.”

  That earned her a glare from her partner, who was leading her toward the food court where she’d gain three pounds breathing the air while he shoveled crap into his face and retained his zero body fat ratio.

  Nick laughed, and the sexy sound made her shiver in anticipation of seeing him soon. “How close to done are you?”

  “Very. I need to hit HQ, dump off Freddie, do a couple of things and then I’ll be home.”

  “Let’s go out tonight. Just you and me.”

  “Like on a date?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can we do that?”

  “Hell, yes, we can do that.”

  “Poor Brant. You can’t just throw this at him at the last minute.”

  “He won’t mind.”

  “Sure he won’t.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “I’ll let you surprise me.”

  “All right. I’m on it.”

  “Hey, Nick?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “This is the best call I’ll ever make on my new phone.”

  “Aww, thanks. Love you.”

  “Love you too. See you soon.” She slapped the phone closed with gusto. “Hurry up. I gotta get home. Hot date with my hot husband to get ready for.”

  “It’s cool that you guys are going out.”

  “We don’t get to do it enough anymore. The gilded cage gets old after a while.”

  “I’m sure it does. I’d go mad being surrounded by security all the time and not being able to do whatever I wanted.”

  “I know. Me too. My greatest fear is that I’ll one day have to put up with that, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it.”

  “Does he say anything about whether he plans to run?”

  Sam knew she could trust Freddie not to repeat anything she said on the topic. “Not much. I don’t think he really wants to, to be honest, but the pressure from all sides is so immense, I’m not sure how he’d ever get out of it.”

  “He shouldn’t do it unless he really wants to.”

  “I agree. He says he doesn’t have the fire in the belly to be president, and I’d imagine that’s a key component. Of course, you can’t repeat that to anyone, even Elin.”

  “I never would.”

  “He’s told Graham that he doesn’t think he wants to do it.” No one wanted Nick to be president more than Graham did. “But of course Graham doesn’t want to hear that. He’s got his heart set on seeing Nick in the Oval Office, and you can’t tell him that it’s not going to happen.”

  “I get that Graham is super important to him, but it’s Nick’s life—and yours. If it’s not what you both want, you shouldn’t be pressured into doing it. We all know he’d be great at it, so you can’t think of it in terms of four years. You have to look at it as eight years.”

  “And then a lifetime of Secret Service protection afterward. I have hives just thinking about that.”

  “Hey!” A teenage girl screamed in Sam’s direction. “It’s the second lady! Oh my God. You guys! Look!”

  The girl’s announcement led to a mob of teens swarming around Sam, who was instantly on alert for trouble.

  “Back up,” Freddie said with unusual force. “Right now.”

  The teens did as he asked.

  “I’m happy to say hi to you guys,” Sam said. “But you’ve got to give me a little room.”

  “I think you’re so cool, and your husband is hot.”

  Sam tried to hide the grimace. “Thank you.” She shook hands with each of them, signed a few autographs and then made her escape. “Stay in school and out of trouble.” They beat feet away from the teen mob. “That was intense.”

  “That, right there, is why you should have a detail.”

  “Shut your face. And don’t tell my husband that happened, you got me?”

  “I got you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “So you say.”

  “Hurry up and get some food. I need to be done with this day.”

  Freddie bought six tacos, which he ate in the car on the way back to HQ.

  “If you get one shred of lettuce in my car, you’re having the whole thing detailed.”

  “Got it,” he said over a mouthful.

  The smell was making her mouth water. He’d polished off all six tacos and a large cola by the time they got back to the house.

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “I’m a growing boy. Leave me alone.”

  “I’m going to tell your wife you already had dinner.”

  “Why would you do that to me, Sam? I thought we were friend
s.”

  They bickered their way into the morgue entrance and through the corridors that led to the pit, while he sucked on the last of his drink, intentionally making obnoxious noises to irritate her.

  In the pit, she found the day shift handing things off to Carlucci and Dominguez, who were working until midnight.

  “Meeting in five, everyone.”

  “Lieutenant, the phone company came through with Tara’s calls and text log,” Green said. “We’re going through it now.”

  While she was thrilled to hear they had the vital info they’d been waiting for, she hoped she’d still be able to get out of there in time to enjoy the night out with Nick.

  “Focus first on the dates of January 31 to February 6,” Sam said. “We believe that’s when her child was most likely conceived. And then cover the most recent two weeks.”

  “On it,” Green said.

  The team assembled in the conference room, where Sam and Freddie briefed them on the meeting with Finley.

  “I want a full run on him,” Sam said to Carlucci.

  “We’ll get on that tonight.”

  “Check his wife too,” Sam said on a hunch.

  Freddie shot her a questioning look.

  “Who’s to say she didn’t know?” Sam asked.

  “We’ll work on the Finleys tonight,” Carlucci said.

  “I’ll take the phone records home with me and keep going on that,” Green said.

  “Make sure you record the time on your sheet. I’ll authorize the OT.”

  “Will do, thanks.”

  “One more thing we need to talk about.” This needed to be said while everyone was there. “Ramsey is digging for shit on us. Everyone needs to make sure they’re dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s—all the time, but right now, in particular. If there’s anything to be found on us, he’s coming for it. Let’s not give him anything to find.”

  “I wish they could get rid of scum like him,” O’Brien said. “He makes us all look bad.”

  “Agreed,” Sam said, “but it’s not that simple. He made me his enemy long before shit got real between the two of us, and I’m sorry that my shit with him is raining down on you guys. Watch your backs. That’s all I can say. Day shift, go home. Night shift, call me if anything pops on the phone log.”

  “Will do, Lieutenant,” Carlucci said.

  They filed out of the conference room, and Sam headed straight for her office, determined to get the hell out of there while the getting was good. She was on her way to a clean getaway when she ran into Dr. Trulo in the hallway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “JUST THE LIEUTENANT I was coming to see.”

  “What’s up, Doc?”

  “I received official word that we’re good to go with the grief group.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “We’ll need to talk about who we want to reach out to in order to get it started.”

  “I’ll give that some thought tonight and let you know after I wrap the Weber case?”

  “Perfect.” He gave her what she’d come to think of as his probing look. “How’re you holding up?”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  “I hear there’s been another in-house arrest in your father’s case.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. It has to be so incredibly disappointing to you.”

  “I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet...”

  “It’s a stunning betrayal of your father and you.”

  Sam nodded because she didn’t trust herself to speak. She cleared the emotion from her throat. “In a way, it’s a blessing that he never knew. Especially with Conklin, who was his so-called friend.”

  “Indeed it is.” He gave her arm an affectionate squeeze. “Find me when you have time to talk about our grief group.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks, Doc.” She continued on her way, thinking about the group she’d suggested for victims of the crimes they investigated. She’d met so many people in the course of her work who would benefit from added support. It would be nice, in the future, to be able to refer devastated family members to the group, rather than sending them on their way never to be seen again until the trial.

  She used the drive home to stew over the case, to start from the beginning and think it through every which way while wishing she could stop by her dad’s to bounce it off him. He’d always had good ideas and suggestions. Since it was still fairly early, she made an impromptu decision to swing by the cemetery before she went home.

  Located a few blocks from her home on Ninth Street, she had the cemetery to herself, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Cemeteries had always creeped her out, but she was determined to get past her aversion so she could visit her dad’s final resting place without it being an ordeal every time. His headstone hadn’t been placed yet, but she found the mound of dirt that covered him with no problem. By spring, grass would cover the dirt and the headstone they’d chosen would be in place. But for now, the site was lonely, desolate. A wave of profound sadness came over her.

  She squatted to get closer to him. “Hey, Skippy. It’s me, Sam. I’m not sure if you can hear me but I wanted to stop by to say hello. I’ve caught a new case. Tara Weber was murdered after her affair with the president came to light. I know, right? What was he thinking? And get this—it happened when his wife was undergoing treatment for ovarian cancer. Nick is trying not to freak out about Nelson being forced to resign. People are so disgusted with him. Gloria is moving home to South Dakota and divorcing his cheating ass. Can’t say I blame her. That whole stand-by-your-man thing doesn’t count when your man cheats on you when you have freaking cancer.

  “The woman, Tara... I’m having trouble figuring her out. She broke up with her longtime boyfriend—or I should say, he broke up with her—and she went a little wild, dating all kinds of guys, some of them married like Nelson. Her friends say that wasn’t like her, but after the breakup she was different. I’m trying to figure out who would’ve wanted her dead while still maintaining her privacy. It’s no one’s business if she dated around, and I don’t want people to judge her. I’m not sure where this one is leading, but I sure could use your input. I also wanted to tell you that your good buddy Conklin is pond scum. He knew all along who was behind your shooting. Can you believe it? And it turns out that freaking Hernandez knew too. It’s disappointing, to say the least. I’m kind of glad you’re not around to hear how we were let down by people we should’ve been able to count on to have our backs. Feel free to haunt Conklin if you can. Go after Stahl and Ramsey too, especially Ramsey. He’s making trouble for me—and Gonzo. Not that you’ll be surprised to hear that.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to come by and tell you I miss you. Nothing feels right without you around to tell me what to do and act like you’re the boss of me.” She stood and stared down at the barren ground for several minutes. “I got a hot date with my husband tonight, so I ought to get going, but I’ll be back soon. See ya, Skippy.”

  She returned to the car and sat for a few minutes in contemplative silence, getting her emotions in check before she went home to her family. Oddly enough, she felt a little better after having aired the case and the latest news to her dad. She had to believe he was close by and could hear her all the time, not just when she came to see him there.

  She called her sister Tracy.

  “Hey, I’m with Ang, and we were just talking about you.”

  “Hi, Sam,” Angela said.

  “What were you guys talking about?”

  “Just wondering how you and Nick are holding up with all this Nelson nonsense,” Tracy said. “We can’t believe he cheated on Gloria. She’s awesome.”

  “I know. She really is.”

  “He didn’t kill the mistress, did he?” Ang asked.

  “I don’t think so, but I really hop
e not.”

  “Ugh, what a mess,” Tracy said.

  “Yep. Hey, I just went to see Dad at the cemetery. Did we order the headstone?”

  “I did it two weeks ago,” Tracy said. “They said it could take a month or two.”

  “Thanks for doing that. How you feeling, Ang?”

  “Sick as a dog.”

  “That sucks. Sorry to hear it.”

  “Eh, no biggie. I hear the kid will be worth the all-day morning sickness.”

  Sam laughed. “If he or she is anything like Jack and Ella, they’ll definitely be worth it. I gotta jet, ladies, but let’s do something as soon as I close this case.”

  “You got it,” Tracy said. “Call if you need us.”

  “Will do.”

  When Sam arrived home a few minutes later and was waved through the Secret Service checkpoint, she was happy to see black SUVs lining the street, which meant Nick was already there. She was surprised to see FBI Agent Avery Hill getting out of his car, toting numerous bags.

  Sam took two of the bags from him.

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s all this?”

  “I was tasked with picking up takeout because, as I was told, ‘Mom and Dad are going out to dinner.’”

  Sam laughed. “So you’re babysitting for me tonight, I take it?”

  “Apparently.”

  “That’s awesome.” The agent who’d once been such a thorn in her side had become a friend, especially now that he was engaged to Shelby and raising her son, Noah, as his own.

  “I’m glad I ran into you. I was going to stop by tomorrow to invite you and the vice president to a little gathering at our place for Shelby’s birthday next Saturday.”

  “We’d love to come.”

  “The kids are invited too, of course. She’d never forgive me if I left them out.”

  “We’ll all be there. What can we bring?”

  “Nothing. I’m having it catered.”

  “Look at you stepping up to the plate.”

  “I figured it was the least I could do. She handles everything all the time. She deserves a night off.”