by Marie Force
“Rango.”
“It’s Holland. How’s it going at the motel?”
“Slow. This place is a DNA wonderland, a blue-light special of the highest order.”
“Ugh, disgusting.”
“Truly.”
“I believe I have a suspect. She’s a blonde with very long hair who got busy with Lind in the room. One thing I know about women with long hair is that they shed. I’ve got a pretty good case against her, but a long blond hair of hers from that room would help.”
“I’ll see what we can do. You might find her DNA in the sheets too. They were well used.”
Sam grimaced. “We’ll take what we can get. Keep me in the loop, and great job to your team on finding the knife.”
“Any news from the lab on that?”
“Not yet, but we’ve got a rush on it. Have you heard anything about the processing of Willie’s car?”
“We got a couple of partial prints off the steering wheel that one of our technicians is working on now.”
“I could really use that info.”
“Will see what I can do to move it along.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
To Hill, Sam said, “Were you able to figure out where your friend Elle is tonight?”
“She’s attending a fundraiser at the Willard with Ray.”
“Would you care to accompany me to the Willard or would you prefer to not have anything to do with arresting your friend’s wife?”
“I’ll go,” he said tightly.
“Let me check on Cruz and the girls, and then we’ll go.”
As she stood up, Malone came to the door. “A moment, Lieutenant?”
“Ah, sure. Hill, I’ll be right with you.”
He left the room, and Malone came in, closing the door behind him.
Sam took a close look at her mentor, trying to figure out why he looked so different. “What’s wrong?” She immediately thought of Nick, but tamped down that worry. He was on his way home. He was okay.
“There were twenty-six children at the house. The youngest was seven. The oldest was sixteen.”
Disgust flooded every pore of Sam’s being. “And the people holding them?”
“Six adults, all in custody. We’re working now to locate the families.”
Sam sighed and shook her head, filled with despair and relief and joy.
“A lot of families are going to be reunited tonight because you trusted your gut, Lieutenant.”
Sam never had learned how to take a compliment. “Oh, well, I was just doing my job, sir.”
“You once again went above and beyond the call of duty. I see another commendation in your future.”
“Thank you, Captain.” They were so rarely formal with each other, but the situation seemed to warrant it.
“Where are we with the Vasquez case?”
“I believe we’ve determined what happened to Willie Vasquez and Rick Lind.”
“And that is?”
“They were killed by Elle Kopelsman Jestings, the wife of team owner Ray Jestings, because they lost a game that she desperately needed them to win.” Sam explained about the financial troubles plaguing the Washington Star and how Elle had been counting on the TV rights to the World Series to bail out the company.
“How do you have her on the Vasquez murder?”
“I don’t—yet—but I believe she paid her bodyguards ten thousand dollars each—some of the last money she had—to take out Vasquez. She took care of Lind herself after she got him drunk and high and pickled his brain with sex. She and the bodyguards must’ve talked about the perfect spot to stab someone to ensure they’d die as quickly as possible, thus the exact same wound for both victims.”
“Hell of a way to go.”
“Killing two of her marquee players also gets them off the team payroll. That might’ve been part of her motive.”
Lieutenant Archelotta stepped into the office. “We’ve got something,” he said, holding up a flash drive. “We finally got the film from the Smithsonian with footage of two guys tossing Willie in the Dumpster.”
“Let’s see,” Sam said, buzzing from the thrill of connecting all the dots.
When Archie played the film on her desktop computer, Sam said, “We got ’em. Those are Elle’s bodyguards. I’ve seen them so I can positively ID them.” From the stacks on her desk, she produced a printout that included photos of the beefy twins that protected Elle—and apparently killed for her too. “Their names are Boris and Horace. Between this and Ginger’s testimony that puts Elle in Rick Lind’s hotel room close to time of death, we’ve got enough to arrest them.”
“So what’s your plan?” Malone asked.
“I’ll use them against each other to get the full story of what happened to Willie. I’m pretty sure I know what happened to Lind. He outlived his usefulness. Thanks, Archie.”
He handed her the flash drive when he removed it from her computer. “My pleasure,” he said on his way out of the office.
“Well, it sounds like you’ve got everything under control, as usual,” Malone said.
“Almost everything,” she said with a wry grin.
“Anything I can do?”
“Put some pressure on the lab to get back to me about the bloody knife CSU found, and we’re going to need a nine-one-one DNA test done on Elle when we get her back here.”
“I’ll get on the lab and put Dr. McNamara on alert about the DNA test.” He was about to leave but turned back to her. “You’re really all right after this morning?”
“I’m fine. A few bruises, but he got the worst of it.”
“No one around here is sorry to hear that—or to see the last of him.”
“I doubt we’ve seen the last of him.”
“We have for now.”
“I’ll give you that.”
“I’ll let you get back to it.”
In the conference room, Ginger had finished the statement they needed from her.
“The Special Victims detectives will be taking over from here, and they’ll need to speak with you about the people who held you,” Sam said. “For our part, we need you to stay available.”
“Why?” Deanna Moreland asked. “Hasn’t she been through enough?”
“She’s a material witness in a murder investigation, among other things. We’ll need her to testify.”
“Oh, God.”
Sam gestured for Ginger’s mom to follow her outside the room and out of earshot of the girls. “There’ll be other trials, Mrs. Moreland,” Sam said. “Members of our team are out now rounding up everyone who was involved with the abduction of your daughter and numerous other children.”
“There’re more?” she asked.
“A lot more. And your daughter was instrumental in leading us to them. She’s been amazingly strong and very helpful.”
“That’s my Sarah. She’s been strong and capable all her life.”
“She’s been through a lot. It’s going to take a long time. I know it’s difficult, but try to be patient and not expect too much too soon.”
“Did they... Do you know...”
“The Special Victims detectives will make sure she gets the medical care she needs.”
Deanna’s face crumpled as Sam all but confirmed her worst fears.
As tears rolled down Deanna’s face, Sam reached out to squeeze her hand. “She’s alive. That’s what matters most right now. You’ll figure out the rest one day at a time.”
“The other detective, Freddie. He said you knew something was off, and you got them out of there. I’ll never have the words to properly thank you for finding my daughter.”
Sam, who was fundamentally opposed to receiving affection from strangers, happily allowed herself to be hugged by the grateful mother. “I was just doing my job.”
“You did much more than that today, Lieutenant, and our family will be forever grateful to you. Our prayers have been answered.”
Sam patted Deanna’s back. “If there’s a
nything I can do for you over the next couple of months, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
“Thank you again.” She stepped back and wiped her eyes. “I’d better get back to her.”
Sam nodded and watched her return to her daughter, who was sitting close to her father, holding his hand tightly. Ginger—or Sarah—had lost her tough outer shell since her parents arrived, and Sam was optimistic that she’d be able to tap into her inner toughness to repair her life.
“Lieutenant?”
Sam turned to find a detective she didn’t know waiting to speak with her. She was tall with sleek dark hair and model cheekbones. She took in the scene in the conference room, her eyes hard and uncompromising.
“I’m Detective Erica Lucas, SVU.”
Sam shook her hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Nice catch today, LT. You rescued those kids from a fucking nightmare.”
Sam liked her no-nonsense attitude. “Thanks. We’re ready to turn them over to you for the next steps in your end of the case.”
“We’re going to need to run rape kits and other unpleasant tests. Will they be able to handle that?”
“The dark-haired one is Sarah, but she was known as Ginger after she was abducted. She’s tough. The other one, who goes by Amber, is far more fragile. Sarah is her touchstone. You might want to keep them together as much as possible.”
“Good to know.”
“Amber’s mother is on her way from New York. She should be here in a couple of hours. I can get you her number so you can make her aware of your location when she arrives in town.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
“Take really good care of them, will you? They’re good kids who’ve been to hell and back.”
“I’ll do everything I can for them.”
“Thanks, Erica. Let me introduce you to them so you can get the ball rolling.”
Chapter Eighteen
An hour later, Sam had sent the girls off with Erica, promising to check on them soon. Freddie had graciously volunteered to stay with them a while longer while they warmed up to Erica. Her partner was never better than in situations that required a gentle touch, and she was enormously grateful for that quality in him. She’d have to tell him that the next time she had the chance.
Hill appeared in the doorway to Sam’s office. “I’ve got something else. Elle was arrested last week by Fairfax County police after a tirade in Neiman Marcus at Tyson Galleria.”
Sam’s inner fashionista stood up to take notice when she heard the name of one of her all-time favorite malls. “What happened?”
“Apparently, her credit card was declined, and she raised holy hell about it. Mall security ended up calling Fairfax County police. She was charged with disorderly conduct and released on personal recognizance. She’s due back in court next month to answer to the charges.”
“Did you run her credit?”
His raised brow was the only change in his expression. “Honestly, Sam. Give me some credit, will you?”
“My apologies,” Sam said, holding back a smile she knew he wouldn’t appreciate. “Please proceed.”
“She’s in debt up to her eyeballs. Every card is maxed out. All the money is gone. She’s in big trouble. The paper is in trouble. The team is in trouble.”
“What about Ray?”
“Miraculously, other than the one joint account that she tapped to pay the bodyguards, he kept his finances separate from hers when they got married. I can’t help but think she and her father insisted on that to protect their money. But it ended up protecting his. He’s not the fat cat the Kopelsmans are—or were—but he’s hardly destitute. Other than the two checks from the joint account the day after the game, there is nothing out of the ordinary with any of his accounts.”
“Do you think he knows about the hole she’s dug for herself?”
“Probably not. Their marriage isn’t what I’d call conventional.”
“How do you mean?”
“She does her thing, and he does his.”
“And the World Series rights would’ve solved all her problems.”
“It would’ve bought her some badly needed time.” He produced another piece of paper, detailing Elle’s efforts to find investors to shore up the struggling company. “All of them bailed when the team lost the game. After I read about the investors, I called Bixby, the team’s director of security, to ask if anything had happened in the owner’s box that night. He said Elle flew into a rage, and had to be subdued by her bodyguards. They took her out of there. Bixby said it looked like they’d done it before.”
“She’s been escalating. Why didn’t Bixby say anything about that when you talked to him before?”
“She’s the owner’s wife. He’s interested in job security, and he figured it was just a tantrum. He said it didn’t really register as anything important with his people. Her bodyguards handled it.”
“It’s time to pick her up, but we need to have another chat with Jamie Clark first.” Sam gestured for him to head out of the pit, and after shutting and locking her office door, she followed him. “McBride and Tyrone, I’ll need you to stick around for a bit. I’ll authorize overtime.”
“Sure thing, LT,” McBride said. “What do you need?”
“Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”
“We’ll be there.”
Hill followed her downstairs to the city jail where Jamie Clark was being held in a cell with six other women. She was sitting on one of the cots, tucked into a corner with her arms hugging her legs as if trying to be invisible. At the sight of Sam outside the cell door, she got up and rushed over, bumping into one of the other women on the way.
The woman pushed back, nearly knocking Jamie off her feet. “Watch who you’re ramming into, bitch.”
“Sorry,” Jamie muttered, clearly fearful of the other women.
“I have another question for you,” Sam said.
Jamie wrapped her fingers around the bars. “What?”
“You said that you and Willie were alone in the training room after the game.”
“That’s right. We were there for at least two hours, waiting for everyone else to leave so he could get his stuff and go.”
“You said Ray Jestings and Bob Minor came in to talk to him during that time.”
“Yes, they were both there for a short time before they left.”
“Did anyone else enter that room? And I want you to think carefully and tell me the truth.”
Jamie swallowed hard, her eyes darting between Sam and Hill. “One other person came in.”
“Who?”
“Elle Jestings.”
Bingo, Sam thought. That’s exactly what she was hoping Jamie would say. “And you didn’t mention this sooner because...”
Jamie glanced behind her. The other women had moved to the back of the cell, no doubt due to the presence of cops they wanted nothing to do with. Jamie lowered her voice. “I... She... She didn’t know I was there, and I was afraid she’d be mad if she knew I saw her. Willie had asked for a few minutes alone, so I went into my office and sat in the dark, keeping an eye on him as best I could. She came in, shut the door and locked it. Then she walked up to Willie and smacked him across the face so hard it snapped his head back. I was so mad! How could she do that? Like he wasn’t upset enough already. The poor guy. He started to cry, and he was apologizing, but she kept screaming at him.”
“What did she say?”
“Stuff like ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’ and ‘How in the world did you miss that ball?’ and ‘You’ve ruined everything. Everything!’”
Sam wanted to scream herself when she thought about how much time Jamie could’ve saved them if she’d told them this the first time they met her. “Did he say anything?”
“No,” Jamie said, shaking her head. Her chin quivered and her eyes filled. “He just kept crying and apologizing to her. I wanted to go out there and tell him to stop, that she didn’t deserve his apologies. She was
so awful to him. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid of what she might do to me if she found out I was there.”
“Has she ever threatened you or anyone you know before?”
“Not directly, but the players called her all kinds of names like Ice Bitch and Queen Frigid. That kind of stuff. No one likes her, but everyone loves Ray. People couldn’t understand what he ever saw in her.”
“This has been very helpful,” Sam said. “I’ll need you to make an official statement about the encounter between Elle and Willie in the morning.”
“Please,” Jamie said, “you have to let me out of here.” She glanced over her shoulder at the women who were watching her closely. “I’m scared, and I’m sorry I lied to you and kicked Detective Gonzales. I shouldn’t have, but I was trying to protect Willie and his kids. They were everything to him. I didn’t want them to grow up hating him because of me.”
Sam wanted to tell her there’d been other women, besides her, but she figured Jamie would hear that soon enough. It didn’t need to come from her. She gestured to one of the guards. “Please move Ms. Clark to a private cell.”
“Why do I have to stay here?”
“For right now, you’re safer here than you’d be out there. Trust me on that. Stay put tonight, and we’ll take care of the details in the morning.”
“Are you going to charge me for lying to you?”
“We’ll see how detailed your statement is and decide then.”
Sam waited until the guard had moved Jamie before she headed back upstairs with Hill in tow.
“How’d you know Elle had been to see Willie after the game?” he asked.
“I didn’t. I only suspected, and I needed Jamie to confirm it.”
“You’re good, Holland. Really, really good.”
“I know.”
“Nothing wrong with your ego either,” he muttered.
“Healthiest part of me.”
That got a big guffaw out of him as they entered the lobby where the chief was talking to McBride and Tyrone.
“The media is waiting for an update on your latest victim as well as the bust that went down at the motel. Are you prepared to give them a statement?”