by Marie Force
“What kind of incident?” Nick asked, trying to remain calm. Like there was anything he could do for his wife when he was on his way to the other side of the world.
Eric detailed the confrontation with Lieutenant Stahl.
“Is she okay?”
“She sustained abrasions on her neck and throat, but Stahl got the worst of it. He was treated for a ruptured testicle and a broken kneecap.”
Nick couldn’t help the smile that found its way to his lips. “Good for her.”
“She put a serious hurt on him.”
“How was this able to happen with Scotty’s detail on the premises?”
“With all due respect, sir, they’re there to protect him, not her. You’ll recall that she has repeatedly refused protection.”
“Right, of course. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to imply it was their fault.”
“They provided assistance to her, but she didn’t really need it.”
“I bet she didn’t. She ruptured his testicle, huh?”
Eric winced as he nodded.
“Trust me when I tell you, no one deserves it more.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that, sir.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course.”
Nick returned to his seat, buckled his seat belt and thought about what Eric had told him. He could only imagine Sam fending off Stahl and taking great pleasure in kicking her nemesis where he lived. But the idea of that guy’s hands on her throat gave Nick the shakes. She’d had yet another close call. Thank goodness she was well versed in how to defend herself, but still...
He hated how close she came to mortal danger and how frequently it happened. He’d yet to fully adjust to that part of his new reality. Hell, he’d probably never get used to learning that the woman he loved had been attacked—again.
Settling into his seat, he also tried to process his conversation with the president, but couldn’t seem to bend his mind around that either. The last year had been a whirlwind of change and unexpected opportunities.
It had all begun with the murder of his best friend, John, the brother of his heart. Tapped by the party to complete the last year of John’s term, Nick had done his best to live up to John’s legacy and to the faith instilled in him by Graham and the Virginia Democratic Party. His so-called “fairy-tale” romance with Sam had cemented his popularity in Virginia, and his keynote address at the convention in August had put him on the national radar.
Everything had happened so fast that he sometimes felt like he’d stepped into a time warp and was being hurled forward at turbo speed. The fact that he had no political pedigree had helped. Even John had existed under the weight of his father’s legacy. While Nick’s connection to the O’Connors was no secret in Washington, he wasn’t as attached to Graham as John had been. It was rare these days to find a politician who wasn’t toting a ton of baggage with him, which was another reason his star had risen so quickly.
But vice president... Wow. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a scenario in which he’d be traveling aboard Air Force One with the president, let alone receive an offer like the one President Nelson had just made. Unreal.
When Nick thought of what Sam would have to say about it, he chuckled softly. He’d already asked a lot of her in the last year. His high profile had raised hers, which she chafed against actively. She preferred life far below the radar, not well above it. Her career was so much a part of who she was that he couldn’t imagine her without the badge and cuffs.
How could he ask her to give that up when she’d worked so hard to get where she was? And she would have to give it up. There was no way the country’s second lady could be out chasing down murderers, not without Secret Service protection that she’d never agree to.
He would mention the offer to her because he didn’t keep things from her, but he didn’t expect it to lead anywhere. Their lives were complicated enough as it was, and it was probably better to leave well enough alone.
But it had been nice to be asked.
* * *
After a brutal thirty minutes with Rick Lind’s wife, Sam left her in the care of her sister with information about how to claim the body once the autopsy was completed.
Freddie, who had stayed with Ginger and Amber while Sam was with Carla Lind, was quiet as they made their way back to the city with their young passengers.
Amber had fallen asleep while Sam was in the Lind house, but Ginger continued to stare out the window.
Driving through afternoon traffic, Sam went over the case again from the beginning, thinking about who would have a reason to kill the players who’d cost the team a trip to the World Series. She kept coming back to the team management and ownership. Who else would care as much as they did?
Her cell phone rang and she took the call from Darren Tabor. “Nothing yet, Darren. I haven’t forgot I owe you an exclusive.”
“Your husband was tied up in Lexicore. Any comment on that?”
“Not a thing.”
“His people are saying he’s out of the country. Where is he?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Probably not.”
“You’re nothing if not consistent.”
“Thank you.”
“Listen, there’s something else I wanted to tell you, but I’m in a bit of a tight spot on this one.”
“I’m listening.”
“You have to promise you won’t tell anyone you heard this from me.”
“You have my word.”
He hesitated, then cleared his throat. “The Star is hemorrhaging money. It’s going downhill fast.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The Star was a D.C. institution, and as much as her dealings with the media rankled her, Darren was one of the few reporters who’d treated her fairly over the years—for the most part anyway.
“The internet has been annihilating the newspaper business for years now, but since Mr. Kopelsman died, it’s gotten worse. His daughter is nowhere near the businessperson he was, and she’s running the place into the ground.”
“Interesting,” Sam said. “How does that factor into the Vasquez case?”
“From what I understand, Elle was counting on the TV rights to the World Series and the influx of cash to bail out the entire company. Everything was riding on that.”
“Is that so?”
“Since the team lost that game, everyone here is sweating their jobs. Myself included.”
“This is very helpful, Darren. Detective Cruz is with me now, and I know I can count on his discretion.”
“I understand. I don’t want to think Elle or Ray could be behind something like this, but the company is in a lot of trouble, and protecting her father’s legacy is the most important thing to her. I thought you should know that.”
“You’re racking up the points, Mr. Tabor.”
Darren laughed. “Never hurts to be in good with the MPD.”
“Thanks for this. I’ll be in touch.” To Freddie she said, “Well, that was enlightening. Did you catch the gist?”
“Sure did.”
“This might be the break we’ve been waiting for. Will you get Ramsey from SVU to meet us in the pit?”
“Yep.” Freddie made the call while Sam rang Shelby.
“What’s up?” Shelby asked when she answered.
“How did Scotty make out today?”
“From what I can tell, it was a normal day. No interaction with Nathan and no trouble from anyone else.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I agree.”
“Is he there?”
“He just went over to have a visit with your dad.”
“So Dad is back from the doctor? Did they tell you anything about what happened?”
“Celia said they want to admit him for a night to run some tests to see if the bullet has shifted. That’s happening next week.”
Sam’s stomach reacted pred
ictably to that news. “Oh jeez. I wonder what that means?”
“Hard to tell, but try not to worry until you know more. Easier said than done. I know.”
“Right. Thanks, Tinker Bell. I’ll try to be home for dinner with the boy.”
“I can stay if you’re running late. Just let me know.”
“Will do.”
“What’s up with your dad?” Freddie asked when Sam got off the phone.
She brought him up-to-date. “What do you suppose it means that they’re admitting him?”
“Probably just being cautious.”
“Yeah.” Anything having to do with her gravely injured father made Sam’s nerves go crazy. It had been a very long three years since he was shot and wounded during a routine traffic stop by an assailant who’d gotten away with it, despite the ongoing efforts of Sam and every member of the MPD. Skip had been three months shy of a retirement he’d worked so hard to enjoy.
Rather than fishing and cooking and doing all the things he loved to do, he’d been trapped in a wheelchair and reliant on others to care for his most basic needs. The idea that his situation could somehow get worse was more than she could bear to entertain.
“Don’t go there, Sam,” her partner said. He knew her as well as anyone and knew her dad was a weak spot for her.
She turned up the volume on the radio as the news began at the top of the hour, anxious for any word she could get on the president’s secret trip overseas.
The announcer led with the growing scandal surrounding Lexicore and how several public figures, including retired U.S. Senator Graham O’Connor, had severed ties with the textile giant in wake of the news about Lexicore’s ties to the factory in Thailand.
Sam was relieved when Nick’s name wasn’t mentioned as one of the public figures linked to Lexicore.
“President Nelson surprised troops at Bagram Air Force Base in Afghanistan with a middle-of-the-night morale-boosting visit, which will be one of the president’s final public appearances before the election. Nelson, who is locked in a tight race with Republican challenger Dominic Rafael, spent two hours on the ground with the troops and met with the Afghani president before departing ahead of daylight. The trip had been previously unannounced to the media.
“Reporters accompanying the president were not permitted to file stories on the visit until Air Force One was safely out of Afghani airspace. Virginia Senator Nick Cappuano, one of the public figures linked earlier today to Lexicore, is also with the president. Cappuano, running in the first election of his short but illustrious career, is considered a front-runner for the Democratic nomination in four years.”
Overwhelmed with relief to know he was on his way home after safely landing and taking off in Afghanistan, Sam let out a long deep breath.
“Front-runner for the nomination,” Freddie said. “That’s crazy.”
Sam couldn’t even think about Nick running for president without her stomach hurting.
“I can’t wait to hear about Air Force One,” Freddie added.
“You sound like Scotty.”
“It’s way cool.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What happened?” Ginger asked from the backseat, reminding Sam that she still had a big issue to deal with where they were concerned.
“My husband is a senator, and he went on a secret trip to Afghanistan with the president.”
“Wow,” Ginger said, her tone dull and lifeless. “That’s sick. He’s lucky he got to do that.”
“You’re right,” Sam said, able to agree now that he was on his way home, “he is lucky.”
And so was she.
Chapter Seventeen
They arrived at HQ to a huge media presence outside the main door.
“What the hell?” Sam muttered, heading for the morgue entrance. She feared the day they discovered her secret way into the building. As they walked in with Ginger and Amber, they ran into Lindsey McNamara. “What’s going on out front?”
“I hear they’re looking for you,” Lindsey said. “Someone from the motel must’ve leaked the Lind connection to the media, and they want to know about Nick’s ties to Lexicore.”
“Great.”
“Terry was really upset about that yesterday. He was worried about how it would affect Nick’s campaign.”
“Nick hopes the fact that most of Lexicore’s investors were unaware of the ties to the factory will keep it from sinking his campaign.”
“We all hope so,” Lindsey said, giving Sam’s arm a squeeze. “Who’ve you got there?” She glanced at Ginger and Amber, who were waiting for her with Cruz.
“Two of the maids at the motel where Lind was found. I got a funny feeling about them, so I made a big thing out of needing to question them here so I could get them out of there.”
“You don’t think...” Lindsey sighed, compassionate as always. “They’re so bloody young.”
“I know. We’ll figure it out and get them some help. What’ve you got on Lind?”
“Just like Vasquez, a single stab wound to the aorta. Your killer knows where to aim to achieve maximum results.”
“Time of death?”
“I’m estimating it to be early yesterday. I’ll have my full report to you shortly.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
Sam and Freddie escorted the girls to the conference room in the pit, aware of the curious stares of coworkers they passed in the hallways. People were always curious about what she was up to—probably more so than usual today with word of her confrontation with Stahl winding through the corridors.
Agent Hill, who was working in the conference room, looked up when he heard them come into the room.
“Anything on the Vasquez financials?” Sam asked, watching his astute gaze take in the young women who’d arrived with her.
“Not a thing, and Lieutenant Archelotta was here while you were out to say that they haven’t found anything useful on the video either. There was so much chaos in the streets that it’s hard to tell what’s going on in many cases.
“Could I have a word?” Sam asked.
“Sure.” Hill gathered up his work and the suit jacket he’d slung over one of the chairs.
To Freddie, she said, “Give me one minute. I’ll be right back.”
She went out ahead of Hill, and waited until he’d closed the conference room door.
“What’s up with the kids?”
“Nothing good.” She gave him a condensed report on what had transpired at the motel, including the discovery of Rick Lind’s body.
“Did either of them see anything regarding Lind?”
“I’m about to get into that with them. In the meantime, I need your help with something else—something you’re not going to like.”
“What’s that?”
“I need you to run the financials on Ray and Elle and all their personal and business interests.”
He seemed genuinely shocked by her request. “They didn’t have anything to do with this, Sam. I’ve known him all my life.”
“How long have you known her?”
“Fifteen, sixteen years? Something like that. A long time.”
“I received a tip this afternoon that the Star is in big financial trouble. Elle needed the team to win because the World Series TV rights would’ve bailed out the entire company. She needed them to win.”
“So what’re you saying? She’s going around exacting revenge on those who foiled her plan?”
“It’s the closest thing to a motive I’ve seen yet.”
“It’s not them. They’re not murderers.”
“Are you able to maintain objectivity, Agent Hill?”
In that second she got to see what he looked like when he was very, very pissed. “Yes, I can, and I don’t appreciate the implication.”
“No implications. Just a question. I’ll leave it to you to take a closer look at them while I talk to Ginger and Amber and try to figure out what’s been done to them and what to do about it.”
�
�Sam.”
She turned back to him. “Yeah?”
“Good catch on the kids. You probably saved their lives.”
“You would’ve caught it too. You’re a good cop.” She pushed open the door to the conference room. “Are you hungry?” Sam asked the girls.
Amber looked to Ginger to answer for both of them.
“I could eat something,” Ginger said.
Amber nodded in agreement.
“How about pizza?”
Their eyes lit up with delight that even Ginger couldn’t hide. “That’d be really good,” Ginger said.
“Can we have cola too?” Amber asked.
“Absolutely.” Sam handed Freddie two twenties. “Get enough for us too. And a house salad.”
He rolled his eyes at her request and left to order the pizza. When he returned, he joined Sam on the other side of the table from where the girls were seated.
“Here’s the deal, ladies,” Sam said. “I’d like to know if you saw our murder victim around the hotel before he was killed. It would help us very much if there’s anything you can tell us about him or the circumstances of his death. In return for your help and cooperation, we’ll ensure that you never have to return to that motel or have anything further to do with Bruce.”
Ginger let out a snort of disbelief. “And how will you pull that off? He’s probably already here waiting for us to be released so he can take us back.”
“He may be here, but it’s not to take you back. Our officers are going into the motel and arresting everyone as we speak so we can figure out what’s been going on there. You’ll make our jobs a hell of a lot easier if you just tell us.”
“What do you think has been going on there?” Ginger asked.
“If I had to guess, I’d say you’re both runaways or perhaps you were abducted or somehow lured into a web of sex slavery and prostitution. Am I warm?”
Judging by Amber’s bug eyes, Sam’s assessment was spot-on.
“How do you know?” Amber asked in a whisper.
“Unfortunately, we’ve seen it before. We recognize women in distress when we see them. I brought you here because you were the two youngest women there, and I wanted to get you out while I could.”