Lethal Attraction: Against the RulesFatal Affair

by Linda Howard

  “I don’t have all the details, but from what I’ve been told so far, it appears he was dismembered and stabbed through the neck. Apparently, his chief of staff found him.”

  “Nick,” she said softly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Nick Cappuano is O’Connor’s chief of staff.”

  “You know him?”

  “Knew him. Years ago,” she added, surprised and unsettled to discover the memory of him still had power over her, that just the sound of his name rolling off her lips could make her heart race.

  “I’m assigning the case to you.”

  Surprised at being thrust so forcefully back into the real work she had craved since her return to duty, she couldn’t help but ask, “Why me?”

  “Because you need this, and so do I. We both need a win.”

  The press had been relentless in its criticism of him, of her, of the department, but to hear him acknowledge it made her ache. Her father had come up through the ranks with Farnsworth, which was probably the number one reason why she still had a job. “Is this a test? Find out who killed the senator and my previous sins are forgiven?”

  He put down his coffee cup and leaned forward, elbows resting on knees. “The only person who needs to forgive you, Sam, is you.”

  Infuriated by the surge of emotion brought on by his softly spoken words, Sam cleared her throat and stood up. “Where does O’Connor live?”

  “The Watergate. Two uniforms are already there. Crime scene is on its way.” He handed her a slip of paper with the address. “I don’t have to tell you that this needs to be handled with the utmost discretion.”

  He also didn’t have to tell her that this was the only chance she’d get at redemption.

  “Won’t the Feds want in on this?”

  “They might, but they don’t have jurisdiction, and they know it. They’ll be breathing down my neck, though, so report directly to me. I want to know everything ten minutes after you do. I’ll smooth it with Stahl,” he added, referring to the lieutenant she usually answered to.

  Heading for the door, she said, “I won’t let you down.”

  “You never have before.”

  With her hand resting on the door handle, she turned back to him. “Are you saying that as the chief of police or as my Uncle Joe?”

  His face lifted into a small but sincere smile. “Both.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Sitting on John’s sofa under the watchful eyes of the two policemen, Nick’s mind raced with the staggering number of things that needed to be done, details to be seen to, people to call. His cell phone rang relentlessly, but he ignored it after deciding he would talk to no one until he had seen John’s parents. Almost twenty years ago they took an instant shine to the hard-luck scholarship student their son brought home from Harvard for a weekend visit and made him part of their family. Nick owed them so much, not the least of which was hearing the news of their son’s death from him if possible.

  He ran his hand through his hair. “How much longer?”

  “Detectives are on their way.”

  Ten minutes later, Nick heard her before he saw her. A flurry of activity and a burst of energy preceded the detectives’ entrance into the apartment. He suppressed a groan. Wasn’t it enough that his friend and boss had been murdered? He had to face her, too? Weren’t there thousands of District cops? Was she really the only one available?

  Sam came into the apartment, oozing authority and competence. In light of her recent troubles, Nick couldn’t believe she had any of either left. “Get some tape across that door,” she ordered one of the officers. “Start a log with a timeline of who got here when. No one comes in or goes out without my okay, got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The patrol sergeant is on his way along with Deputy Chief Conklin and Detective Captain Malone.”

  “Let me know when they get here.” Without so much as a glance in his direction, Nick watched her stalk through the apartment and disappear into the bedroom. Following her, a handsome young detective with bed head nodded to Nick.

  He heard the murmur of voices from the bedroom and saw a camera flash. They emerged fifteen minutes later, both noticeably paler. For some reason, Nick was gratified to know the detectives working the case weren’t so jaded as to be unaffected by what they’d just seen.

  “Start a canvass of the building,” Sam ordered her partner. “Where the hell is crime scene?”

  “Hung up at another homicide,” one of the other officers replied.

  She finally turned to Nick, nothing in her pale blue eyes indicating that she recognized or remembered him. But the fact that she didn’t introduce herself or ask for his name told him she knew exactly who he was. “We’ll need your prints.”

  “They’re on file,” he mumbled. “Congressional background check.”

  She wrote something in the small notebook she tugged from the back pocket of gray, form-fitting pants. There were years on her gorgeous face that hadn’t been there the last time he’d had the opportunity to look closely, and he couldn’t tell if her hair was as long as it used to be since it was twisted into a clip. The curvy body and endless legs hadn’t changed at all.

  “No forced entry,” she noted. “Who has a key?”

  “Who doesn’t have a key?”

  “I’ll need a list. You have a key, I assume.”

  Nick nodded. “That’s how I got in.”

  “Was he seeing anyone?”

  “No one serious, but he had no trouble attracting female companionship.” Nick didn’t add that John’s casual approach to women and sex had been a source of tension between the two men, with Nick fearful that John’s social life would one day lead to political trouble. He hadn’t imagined it might also lead to murder.

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “When he left the office for a dinner meeting with the Virginia Democrats last night. Around six-thirty or so.”

  “Spoke to him?”

  “Around ten when he said he was on his way home.”

  “Alone?”

  “He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

  “Take me through what happened this morning.”

  He told her about Christina trying to reach John, beginning at seven, and of coming to the apartment expecting to find the senator once again sleeping through his alarm.

  “So this has happened before?”

  “No, he’s never been murdered before.”

  Her expression was anything but amused. “Do you think this is funny, Mr. Cappuano?”

  “Hardly. My best friend is dead, Sergeant. A United States senator has been murdered. There’s nothing funny about that.”

  “Which is why you need to answer the questions and save the droll humor for a more appropriate time.”

  Chastened, Nick said, “He slept through his alarm and ringing telephones at least once, if not twice, a month.”

  “Did he drink?”

  “Socially, but I rarely saw him drunk.”

  “Prescription drugs? Sleeping pills?”

  Nick shook his head. “He was just a very heavy sleeper.”

  “And it fell to his chief of staff to wake him up? There wasn’t anyone else you could send?”

  “The senator valued his privacy. There’ve been occasions when he wasn’t alone, and neither of us felt his love life should be the business of his staff.”

  “But he didn’t care if you knew who he was sleeping with?”

  “He knew he could count on my discretion.” He looked up, unprepared for the punch to the gut that occurred when his eyes met hers. Her unsettled expression made him wonder if she felt it, too. “His parents need to be notified. I’d like to be the one to tell them.”

  Sam studied him for a long moment. “I’ll arrange it. Where are they?”

  “At their farm in Leesburg. It needs to be soon. We’re postponing a vote we worked for months to get to. It’ll be all over the news that something’s up.”

  “What’s the vote for?�
�

  He told her about the landmark immigration bill and John’s role as the co-sponsor.

  With a curt nod, she walked away.

  *

  An hour later, Nick was a passenger in an unmarked Metropolitan Police SUV, headed west to Leesburg with Sam at the wheel. She’d left her partner with a staggering list of instructions and insisted on accompanying Nick to tell John’s parents.

  “Do you need something to eat?”

  He shook his head. No way could he even think about eating—not with the horrific task he had ahead of him. Besides, his stomach hadn’t recovered from the earlier bout of vomiting.

  “You know, we could still call the Loudoun County Police or the Virginia State Police to handle this,” she said for the second time.

  “No.”

  After an awkward silence, she said, “I’m sorry this happened to your friend and that you had to see him that way.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you going to answer that?” she asked of his relentless cell phone.

  “No.”

  “How about you turn it off then? I can’t stand listening to a ringing phone.”

  Reaching for his belt, he grabbed his BlackBerry, his emotions still raw after watching John being taken from his apartment in a body bag. Before he shut the BlackBerry off, he called Christina.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice heavy with relief and emotion. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “Sorry.” Pulling his tie loose and releasing his top button, he cast a sideways glance at Sam, whose warm, feminine fragrance had overtaken the small space inside the car. “I was dealing with cops.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “On my way to Leesburg.”

  “God,” Christina sighed. “I don’t envy you that. Are you okay?”

  “Never better.”

  “I’m sorry. Dumb question.”

  “It’s okay. Who knows what we’re supposed to say or do in this situation. Did you postpone the vote?”

  “Yes, but Martin and McDougal are having an apoplexy,” she said, meaning John’s co-sponsor on the bill and the Democratic majority leader. “They’re demanding to know what’s going on.”

  “Hold them off. Another hour. Maybe two. Same thing with the staff. I’ll give you the green light as soon as I’ve told his parents.”

  “I will. Everyone knows something’s up because the Capitol Police posted an officer outside John’s office and won’t let anyone in there.”

  “It’s because the cops are waiting for a search warrant,” Nick told her.

  “Why do they need a warrant to search the victim’s office?”

  “Something about chain of custody with evidence and pacifying the Capitol Police.”

  “Oh, I see. I was thinking we should have Trevor draft a statement so we’re ready.”

  “That’s why I called.”

  “We’ll get on it.” She sounded relieved to have something to do.

  “Are you okay with telling Trevor? Want me to do it?”

  “I think I can do it, but thanks for asking.”

  “How’re you holding up?” he asked.

  “I’m in total shock…all that promise and potential just gone…” She began to weep again. “It’s going to hurt like hell when the shock wears off.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “No doubt.”

  “I’m here if you need anything.”

  “Me, too, but I’m going to shut the phone off for a while. It’s been ringing nonstop.”

  “I’ll email the statement to you when we have it done.”

  “Thanks, Christina. I’ll call you later.” Nick ended the call and took a look at his recent e-mail messages, hardly surprised by the outpouring of dismay and concern over the postponement of the vote. One was from Senator Martin himself—“What the fuck is going on, Cappuano?”

  Sighing, he turned off the BlackBerry and dropped it into his coat pocket.

  “Was that your girlfriend?” Sam asked, startling him.

  “No, my deputy.”

  “Oh.”

  Wondering what she was getting at, he added, “We work closely together. We’re good friends.”

  “Why are you being so defensive?”

  “What’s your problem?” he asked.

  “I don’t have a problem. You’re the one with problems.”

  “So all that great press you’ve been getting lately hasn’t been a problem for you?”

  “Why, Nick, I didn’t realize you cared.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Yes, you made that very clear.”

  He spun halfway around in the seat to stare at her. “Are you for real? You’re the one who didn’t return any of my calls.”

  She glanced over at him, her face flat with surprise. “What calls?”

  After staring at her in disbelief for a long moment, he settled back in his seat and fixed his eyes on the cars sharing the Interstate with them.

  A few minutes passed in uneasy silence.

  “What calls, Nick?”

  “I called you,” he said softly. “For days after that night, I tried to reach you.”

  “I didn’t know,” she stammered. “No one told me.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. It was a long time ago.” But if his reaction to seeing her again after six years of thinking about her was any indication, it did matter. It mattered a lot.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Loudoun County seat of Leesburg, Virginia, in the midst of the Old Dominion’s horse capital, is located thirty-five miles west of Washington. Marked by rolling hills and green pastures, Loudoun is defined by its horse culture. Upon his retirement after forty years in the Senate, Graham O’Connor and his wife moved to the family’s estate outside Leesburg where they could indulge in their love of all things horses. Their social life revolved around steeplechases, hounds, hunting and the Belmont Country Club.

  The closer they got to Leesburg, the tenser Nick became. He kept his head back and his eyes closed as he prepared himself to deliver the gruesome news to John’s parents.

  “Who were his enemies?” Sam asked after a prolonged period of silence.

  Keeping his eyes closed, Nick said, “He didn’t have an enemy in the world.”

  “I’d say today’s events prove otherwise. Come on. Everyone in politics has enemies.”

  He opened his eyes and directed them at her. “John O’Connor didn’t.”

  “A politician without a single enemy? A man who looks like a Greek god with no spurned lovers?”

  “A Greek god, huh?” he asked with a small smile. “Is that so?”

  “There has to be someone who didn’t like him. You can’t live a life as high profile as his without someone being jealous or envious.”

  “John didn’t inspire those emotions in people.” Nick’s heart ached as he thought of his friend. “He was inclusive. He found common ground with everyone he met.”

  “So the privileged son of a multi-millionaire senator could relate to the common man?” she asked, her tone ripe with cynicism.

  “Well, yeah,” Nick said softly, letting his mind wander back in time. “He related to me. From the moment we met in a history class at Harvard, he treated me like a long-lost brother. I came from nothing. I was there on a scholarship and felt like an imposter until John O’Connor took me under his wing and made me feel like I had as much reason as anyone to be there.”

  “What about in the Senate? Rivals? Anyone envious of his success? Anyone put out by this bill you were about to pass?”

  “John hasn’t had enough success in the Senate to inspire envy. His only real success was in consensus building. That was his value to the party. He could get people to listen to him. Even when they disagreed with him, they listened.” Nick glanced over at her. “Where are you going with this?”

  She mulled it over for a moment. “This was a crime of passion. When someone cuts off a man’s dick and stuffs it in his mouth, they’re sending a pretty strong messag
e.”

  Nick’s heart staggered in his chest. “Is that what was in his mouth?”

  Sam winced. “I’m sorry. I figured you’d seen it…”

  “Jesus.” He opened the window to let the cold air in, hoping it would keep him from puking again.

  “Nick? Are you all right?”

  His deep sigh answered for him.

  “Do you have any idea who would have reason to do such a thing to him?”

  “I can’t think of anyone who disliked him, let alone hated him that much.”

  “Clearly, someone did.”

  Nick directed her to the O’Connors’s country home. They drove up a long, winding driveway to the brick-front house at the top of a hill. When he reached for the door handle, she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  He glanced down at the hand and then up to find her eyes trained on him.

  “I have to ask you one more thing before we go in.”

  “What?”

  “Where were you between the hours of ten p.m. and seven a.m.?”

  Staring at her, incredulous, he said, “I’m a suspect?”

  “Everyone’s a suspect until they aren’t.”

  “I was in my office all night getting ready for the vote until five-thirty this morning when I went to the gym for an hour,” he said, his teeth gritted with anger, frustration and grief over what he was about to do to people he loved.

  “Can anyone confirm this?”

  “Several of my staff were with me.”

  “And you were seen at the gym?”

  “There were a few other people there. I signed in and out.”

  “Good,” she said, seeming relieved to know he had an alibi. “That’s good.”

  Nick took a quick glance at the cars gathered in the driveway and swore softly under his breath. Terry’s Porsche was parked next to a Volvo wagon belonging to John’s sister Lizbeth, who was probably visiting for the day with her two young children.

  “What?”

  “The whole gang’s here.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to find some relief from the headache forming behind his right eye. “They’ll know the minute they see me that something’s wrong, so don’t go flashing the badge at them, okay?”

  “I had no plans to,” she snapped.

  Nonplussed by her tone, he said, “Let’s get this over with.” He went up the stairs and rang the bell.