“Did you get a name?”
Beckett consulted his notebook. “Mike Lonergan. He works at the Navy Yard and runs out here every day at noon.” He tore out the page that had Lonergan’s full name, address and cell phone number written on it and gave it to Sam.
“Good work, Beckett. Thanks. Keep everyone out of here until we know whether or not this is a crime scene.”
“Yes, ma’am. Will do.”
“Why would anyone run out here during the hottest part of the day?” Sam asked Freddie as they made their way to where Lonergan was being seen to by the paramedics.
“For something called exercise, I’d imagine.”
“When did you become such a smart-ass? You used to be such a nice Christian boy.”
“Things began to go south for me when I got assigned to a smart-ass lieutenant who’s been a terrible influence on my sweet, young mind.”
“Right.” Amused by him as always, Sam drew out the single word for effect. “You were easily led.” She approached the paramedics who were hovering over Lonergan. “We’d like a word with Mr. Lonergan,” she said to the one who seemed to be in charge.
He used a hand motion to tell his team to allow her and Freddie in. The witness wore a tank top, running shorts and high-tech running shoes. Sam put him at midthirties.
“Mr. Lonergan, I’m Lieutenant Holland—”
“I know who you are.” His shoulders were wrapped in one of those foil thingies that runners used to keep from dehydrating or overheating or something like that. What did she know about such things? She got most of her exercise having wild sex with her husband. Except for recently, thus her foul mood.
Lonergan’s dark blond hair was wet with perspiration. His brown eyes were big and haunted as he looked up at them.
“Can you tell us what you saw?” Ever since she’d taken down a killer at the inaugural parade, she was recognized everywhere she went. She hated that and yearned for the days when no one recognized her. But that ship had sailed the minute her sexy young husband became the nation’s vice president late last year. Her blown cover was entirely his fault, and she liked to remind him of that every chance she got.
“I was running on the trail like I do every day, and when I came around that bend there, I saw something in the water.” He took a drink from a bottle of water, and Sam took note of the slight tremble in his hand. “At first I thought it was a garbage bag, but when I looked closer, I saw a hand.” He shuddered. “That’s when I called 911.”
“How far out was it?” Sam asked.
“About twenty feet from the bank of the river.”
“Was there anything else you could tell us about the body?”
“I think it’s a woman.”
“Why do you say that?” Freddie asked.
“There was hair.” Lonergan took another drink of water. “Once I realized what I was looking at, I could see long hair fanned out around the head.” He looked up at them. “Do you think it’s that student who went missing?”
Sam made sure her expression gave nothing away. “We’d have no way to know that at this point.” The entire Metro PD had been searching for nineteen-year-old Ruby Denton for more than two weeks. She’d come to the District to take summer classes at Capitol University and hadn’t been seen since her first night on campus. The story had garnered national attention thanks in large part to the efforts of her family in Kentucky.
“I bet it’s her,” Lonergan said.
“Do me a favor and keep that thought to yourself for now. No sense upsetting the family before we know anything for certain.”
“That’s true.”
Sam handed him her card. “If you think of anything else, let me know.”
“I will.” After a pause, he said, “I was out here yesterday, and she wasn’t there. I would’ve noticed if she’d been there.”
“That’s good to know. Thanks for your help.”
“It’s sad, you know? For someone to end up like that.”
“Yes, it is.” She stepped away from him to confer with the paramedic in charge. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s in shock. He’ll be fine. You think it’s Ruby Denton?”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I just told him—we have no way to know until Dr. McNamara gets the body back to the lab. Until then, we’d be speculating, and that sort of thing only makes a hellish situation worse for a family looking for their daughter. Ask your people to keep their mouths shut.”
“Yes, ma’am. No one will hear anything from my team.”
“Thank you.”
“What’s going on over there?” Freddie asked, drawing Sam’s attention to the tapeline, where Beckett was arguing with a bunch of suits.
“Let’s go find out.”
They walked back the way they’d come, along the trail to where Beckett held his own against four men in suits with reflective glasses and attitudes that immediately identified them as federal agents.
“What’s the problem, gentlemen?” Sam asked.
“There she is,” one of them said in a low growl that immediately raised Sam’s hackles.
“Let us in,” another one said. “Right now.”
“I’m not letting you in until you tell me what you want,” Beckett said. “This is a potential crime scene—”
“We need to speak to Mrs. Cappuano.” The one who seemed to be in charge of the Fed squad took another step forward. “It’s urgent.”
Sam’s heart dropped to her belly and for a brief, horrifying second she feared her legs would give out under her. Nick... Why would federal agents have tracked her down at a crime scene in the middle of her workday unless something had happened to him?
Please no.
Sam immediately began bargaining with a higher power she didn’t believe in. She’d give up anything, anything in this world except Scotty, if it would keep the man in front of her from saying words that could never be unsaid or unheard.
Only Freddie’s arm around her shoulders kept her from buckling in the few seconds it took for Sam to recover herself enough to speak. “What do you want with me?”
“We need you to come with us, ma’am.”
“That’s not happening until you tell us who you are and what you want,” Freddie said.
In unison they flashed four federal badges.
“United States Secret Service,” the one in charge said. “We need you to come with us, ma’am.”
Sam didn’t recognize any of them. Why would she? Nick’s detail was in Iran, and Scotty’s was with him. “I... I’m working here. I can’t...” Bile burned her throat as her lunch threatened to reappear. With her heart beating so hard she could hear the echo of it strumming in her ears, she somehow managed to choke back the nausea. Later she’d be thankful she hadn’t puked on the agents’ shoes. Right now, however, she couldn’t think about anything other than Nick. “Has something happened to my husband?”
Freddie tightened his grip on her shoulder, letting her know his thoughts mirrored hers. That didn’t do much to comfort her.
Looking down at her with a stone-faced glare, the agent said, “We’re under orders to bring you in. We’re not at liberty to discuss the particulars with you at this time.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Freddie asked. “You can’t just take her. She’s not under Secret Service protection, and she’s working.”
“I’m afraid we can take her, and we will, by force if necessary.”
“What the fuck?” Beckett spoke for all of them. At some point he’d moved to the other side of her.
Like someone flipped a switch, they moved with military precision, busting through the tapeline, grabbing hold of her arms and quickly extracting her before her stunned colleagues could react. Sam fought them, but she was no match for four huge, musc
led, well-dressed men who whisked her away with frightening efficiency.
In the background, she could hear Freddie and Beckett screaming, swearing—at least Beckett was—and giving chase, but they, too, were no match for this group. Before she knew what hit her, she was inside the cool darkness of one in the Secret Service’s endless fleet of black SUVs, the doors locking with a sound that echoed like a shotgun blast.
“Move,” the agent in charge ordered.
The car lurched forward just as Freddie and Beckett reached it. Freddie pounded once against the side window with a closed fist before the car pulled out of his reach.
Sam watched the scene unfold around her with a detached feeling of shock and fear. Something awful must’ve happened. That was the only possible reason for this dramatic scene. She was far too afraid for Nick to work up the fury she’d normally feel at being kidnapped by federal agents. Her hands were shaking, and her entire body was covered in cold chills.
If Nick had been harmed in some way or if he was... No, no, no, not going there. If he was hurt, what did it matter if Secret Service agents had grabbed her? What would anything matter?
She bit back the overwhelming fear and forced herself to focus. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?”
Don’t miss the explosive new book in
New York Times bestselling author
Marie Force’s FATAL series
FATAL THREAT
Available August 2017 wherever
Harlequin HQN titles are sold.
Copyright © 2017 by HTJB, Inc.
ISBN-13: 9781488016578
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Copyright © 2017 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella
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