Fatal Scandal: Book Eight of the Fatal Series

by Marie Force

  “I just want to say, despite all this, I appreciate, we all appreciate, what you did for our family so long ago. My parents were able to rest in peace knowing Eva’s killer had been brought to justice, and for that I’ll be eternally grateful. I’m sorry it’s come back to haunt you in this way.”

  “It’s not your fault, so please don’t sweat it. We’ll figure it out.” He hated to think about Lori’s murder in terms of the upside—the end of the custody battle. That is, if he wasn’t arrested for her murder.

  “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. My best to your fiancée and Happy New Year to you both.”

  “Same to you. Thanks for calling.”

  “Least I could do.”

  “Take care.” Gonzo ended the call and sat staring at the floor, thinking about what the judge had said.

  “Who was that?” Christina asked as she came back into the room, carrying the monogrammed backpack her parents had given Alex for Christmas.

  “Judge Morton.”

  “Seriously? What did he say?”

  “That he’s sorry about what’s happened but still grateful for what I did for his family years ago.”

  She sat next to him on the bed. “That’s nice of him.”

  “It was.”

  “Did you tell him about Lori?”

  “I didn’t see any reason to. He’ll find out soon enough. The whole world will.” He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Let’s finish packing and get the hell out of here before the shit hits the fan.”

  * * *

  At HQ, Sam went directly to the morgue where Lindsey McNamara had begun the autopsy on Lori Phillips. “What’ve you got for me, Doc?” Sam asked as she stepped into the cold, antiseptic-smelling space that always gave her the creeps.

  “Nothing much so far. I just started.”

  “Tell me you’ve got fingerprints on her neck. Tell me this was an act of rage and not something premeditated enough that our perp gloved up.”

  Lindsey glanced at her. “Are you going to tell me who she is?”

  “If I do, you’ve got to help me keep it quiet for a while.”

  “How come?”

  Sam blew out a deep breath. “She’s Gonzo’s baby mama.”

  Lindsey’s green eyes widened with shock. “The stuff in the news, about his connection to the judge...”

  “It’s a shitstorm that’s about to get a whole lot shittier.”

  “Does he know?”

  Sam nodded. “I saw him earlier. He’s a fucking mess.”

  “But he didn’t... Well, of course he didn’t. But he probably wanted to, and the press will be all over him.”

  “Which is why the rest of my squad is currently digging into Lori’s life, looking for motive somewhere else.”

  “Damn.” Lindsey gazed down at the naked woman with the visible bruising on her neck and the stretch marks on her abdomen that indicated she’d once carried a child.

  Was it weird that Sam was envious of stretch marks on a dead woman? Yeah, it was very weird, but she’d become accustomed to the odd longings that went along with her infertility. They struck at the strangest times.

  “First he gets shot and now this,” Lindsey said with the empathy Sam had come to expect of her friend and colleague. That empathy was one of the reasons she was such a first-rate medical examiner. “The poor guy is having a hell of a run of bad luck.”

  “I know. He was already down before this with the wound taking so long to heal.” Sam was worried about how much lower Gonzo could get before he’d hit rock bottom. “Anyway,” she said, shaking off those glum thoughts, “how was the anniversary celebration?”

  Before her eyes, Lindsey blushed like a schoolgirl. “Great.” She, too, had met her boyfriend, Terry O’Connor, at Sam and Nick’s promotion party the previous New Year’s Eve. Terry was now Nick’s chief of staff, since Christina stepped down after the campaign to spend more time with Alex and Gonzo.

  “That’s it? That’s all I’m getting?”

  “There is one thing I could tell you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “We got engaged.”

  “That’s huge news! Congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys.”

  “You’ve come a long way from the days of ‘Why does Nick’s world and my world have to collide?’” Lindsey said drolly.

  “I like to think I’m maturing in my old age.”

  Lindsey snorted with laughter. “That’ll be the day.”

  “So how did he ask?”

  “He kept it very simple and sweet. We went to dinner and then came home, and he asked me there.”

  “So where’s the ring?”

  “At home where it belongs, same place yours is when you’re working.”

  “What’s it look like?”

  “It’s gorgeous. A big solitaire surrounded by smaller diamonds and a diamond band. I love it.”

  “Were you totally surprised?”

  “Not totally. We’ve talked about it a few times, but I didn’t know last night was the night. I cried my eyes out when he asked, and he did too when I said yes. It was very... It was lovely.”

  “I’m feeling a little misty myself just hearing about it.”

  Lindsey cocked an eyebrow at Sam. “You? Misty?”

  “I know! Don’t tell anyone.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Sam looked down at the waxy remains of Lori Phillips. “Are we weird to be standing here having this conversation with a dead body laid out in front of us?”

  “Most people would probably think so, but this is what we do and who we are. If we couldn’t be normal in the midst of all this senseless death, we’d probably be locked up in a loony bin by now.”

  “True.”

  “And I have no doubt whatsoever that you’ll get justice for this poor girl. No matter what she was putting our friend through, she didn’t deserve this.”

  “No,” Sam said with a sigh, “she didn’t. Let me know when you’ve got your report done.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “Thanks, Doc.” Sam left the morgue and headed for the stairwell to the second floor. Coming down the stairs as she went up was Sergeant Ramsey from the Special Victims Unit. He scowled at her as she went past him. “Always nice to see you too, Sergeant.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Sam spun around. “Excuse me?”

  He kept going down the stairs. “You heard me.”

  Sam stormed up the remaining stairs and took a left to go to SVU when she’d planned to go to IT. She walked through the rows of cubicles, drawing the attention of every detective she passed as she made her way to the lieutenant’s office in the back.

  Without knocking, she strolled into the office of SVU Lieutenant Davidson and slammed the door.

  “Help you with something, Lieutenant?” Davidson asked without looking up from what he was doing.

  Sam refused to talk to the top of his dark head, so she waited until he finally looked up at her. “Ramsey.”

  “What about him?”

  “He just told a superior officer to fuck off.”

  “Did he?”

  “He did.”

  “Okay.”

  “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “See that you do.”

  “Um, yeah, I said I would. Anything else?”

  Sam knew she ought to quit while she was ahead, but what fun was that? “You know what they say about tone at the top?”

  “What about it?”

  “You might want to let your people know that insubordination is unacceptable around here and isn’t good for their career development.”

  “You mi
ght want to get your own house in order before you start butting into mine.”

  “My house is in fine order, thank you very much. Yours, on the other hand, could use some work.” Satisfied to have the last word, Sam opened the door and went back the way she came.

  Detective Erica Lucas raised a brow in Sam’s direction as she passed Erica’s cubicle.

  “Lieutenant,” Erica said.

  “Detective. Nice to see you.”

  “You too. How’s your niece doing?”

  “Much better. She’s going back to school in Virginia to finish up her senior year.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Thank you again for your sensitivity with her.”

  “No problem.” She glanced at the lieutenant’s office. “Everything all right?”

  Sam lowered her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Just another run-in with my good friend Ramsey.”

  Erica rolled her eyes. “Watch out for him. He hates your guts.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “I have my theories.” Erica’s gaze darted around nervously. “Let’s grab a coffee off campus sometime soon.”

  “We’ll do that.”

  Nodding, Erica said, “I haven’t seen you since your husband’s promotion. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  Erica laughed and shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”

  “Neither did we.”

  “I’d love to hear all about it.”

  “I’ll call you about that coffee.”

  “Sounds good.” Sam left SVU and headed for IT where she received a much friendlier reception from Lieutenant Archelotta, the one fellow officer who’d seen her naked during their brief fling several years ago.

  “Hey, Sam. What brings you up to my neck of the woods?”

  She produced the CD from Gonzo’s building. “Could you take a look at this for me and see if you can isolate the person or persons who disabled the security camera in an apartment building?”

  “Sure, I’ll put one of my guys right on it.”

  “How’d you end up working on the holiday?”

  “Nothing better to do,” he said with a sheepish grin. “You?”

  “Caught a homicide first thing.”

  “Oh, damn. So, I haven’t seen you since everything happened.” He stretched to look around her. “Where’s your Secret Service detail?”

  “No detail for me. Just him and the boy.”

  “How’d you pull that off?”

  “He made it a condition,” she said with a shrug. “They wanted him badly enough to give him what he wanted.”

  “That’s very cool. I can’t believe your husband is the VP.”

  “Neither can he.”

  Archie laughed. “So business as usual for you, then?”

  “That’s the goal.”

  He held up the CD case. “I’ll get something ASAP for you on this and the phone Cruz brought in.”

  “Thanks, Archie.” Keeping an eye out for Ramsey, Sam went downstairs to the detectives’ pit where most of her team had assembled. Freddie was on the phone so she gestured to her office. He held up his index finger as he nodded.

  Sam sat behind her mess of a desk and corralled her still-damp hair into a clip. Her brain was whirling with disturbing thoughts and implications. A knock on the door preceded Captain Malone stepping into her office.

  He shut the door behind him.

  “Captain.”

  “Lieutenant.” He was in jeans and a sweater today, his service weapon holstered to his hip and his badge clipped to the front pocket of his pants. Though he was approaching his late forties, he was still a badass in her eyes. “Tell me what we know about the Phillips homicide.”

  “She was found early this morning in a car parked on Constitution Ave near West Potomac Park. She’d been manually strangled.”

  “She was in the driver’s seat of the car?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it her car?”

  Sam shook her head. “It was registered to a George Phillips of Bowie.”

  “Let’s get someone up there to talk to him.”

  “It’s on the to-do list. I need to get with my team and figure out our next move.”

  “And Detective Gonzales?”

  “I spoke with him earlier. He and his fiancée were home all evening, celebrating their first anniversary. They arrived home yesterday afternoon and hadn’t yet left the apartment when I saw them.”

  “And they can prove that?”

  “Not exactly.” She filled him in on the situation with the security cameras in Gonzo’s building. “The super said the cameras were working fine yesterday. Archie has the footage and he’s checking to see if we can figure out who disarmed them.”

  “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

  “You and me both.”

  “If someone wanted to off her, who better to frame than someone who’s been locked in a custody battle with her?” Malone asked.

  “I’ve had the same thought.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I suggested he visit his parents in West Virginia today.” She paused before she added, “As planned.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “How do we handle the brass on this? The minute we announce the name of our vic, the media will be all over us—and all over Gonzo. We know he didn’t do it, Cap.”

  “You know that, and I know that, but we also know he had motive. As did Christina.”

  “They didn’t do it.”

  “We’re going to need to prove it. You got that, right?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said with a sigh.

  “And we’re going to have conflict of interest issues working a case in which one of our guys had a strong motivation to see this woman dead.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “The chief will want to call in outside reinforcements.”

  Sam bent her head, which had begun to pulse with the early signs of a migraine. “What kind of outside reinforcements?”

  “You know exactly what kind.”

  The FBI. Avery Hill. “I’m getting tired of having him underfoot in every investigation, as if we can’t function on our own.”

  “We function just fine on our own, but sometimes we need help. Such as when he cut through miles of red tape and got a search warrant for your niece’s dorm room or when he pushed the bullet through the lab after your dad’s surgery.”

  “For all the good that did us.”

  “It’s more information than we had before.”

  The National Integrated Ballistics Information Network had come back with no match to the nine-millimeter bullet that had been retrieved from her father’s neck.

  “If the person who fired that shot screws up again, we’ll have him—or her,” Malone reminded her. “Your dad’s bullet is now in the system. The case can break wide open at any time.”

  Malone wasn’t telling Sam anything she didn’t know, but her high hopes for an immediate break had been dashed.

  “How’s he doing anyway?”

  “Terrible. The pain is bad. The doctors say it’ll get better, but it’s been more than a month, and it’s not improving at all. They’ve got him so hopped up on morphine that he’s out of it most of the time. Just when I thought his situation couldn’t get worse, it did.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sam. I know it’s rough. Hell, it’s hard on us to see him like that, and we’re just his friends.”

  “You’re much more than that to him. To all of us.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?”

  She nodded. “The visits from you—all of you—have sustained him.”

  “We l
ove him,” Malone said simply.

  Sam needed to change the subject before she broke down in front of her boss. “We’ve got a meeting to get to.”

  “Yes, we do. Speaking of shitshows.”

  “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

  “See you then.”

  Before she left her desk, Sam downed two of the prescription pills that kept the migraines under control. Freddie appeared at the doorway, and Sam waved him in as she chased the pills with water.

  “Everything okay?” her partner asked. “You look weird in the eyes.”

  “Gee, thanks. Trying to fend off a migraine.”

  “Just what you don’t need today.”

  “Or any day. Where are we?”

  “McBride and Tyrone have gone to Lori’s apartment to interview the neighbors. I’ve got Archie’s team dumping her phone, and Arnold is trying to figure out where she worked.”

  Sam withdrew Lori’s wallet from her pocket and handed it to him. “Have Arnold go through it and catalog everything in it. You may find some employer info in there.”

  “Got it. Will do.”

  “I have a commander’s meeting at noon. After that, we’re going to Bowie.”

  “Right.”

  “Sorry if this is fucking up your holiday plans.”

  “It’s not. Elin had to work today anyway. New Year’s Day is huge at the gym with all the resolutions.”

  “Why in the hell do people do stupid things like suddenly decide to start working out just because it’s January first?”

  Freddie laughed at the question and walked away shaking his head. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

  “That’ll be the day.”

  Chapter Six

  With the thought of working out at a gym giving her the willies, Sam called Nick before she left for the chief’s meeting.

  “How’s it going, babe?”

  “Shitty.” She brought him up to speed on what her morning had entailed.

  “Holy fuck,” he said in a soft whisper. “Gonzo, he’s...”

  “Innocent. We all know that. Now we’ve just got to prove it. Can you give me Andy’s number? He might have some information about Lori after overseeing Gonzo’s end of the custody case.”

  “Sure.” He recited the number for her.