Fatal Consequences

by Marie Force

  She’d been on her way to sleep, but within seconds was wide awake again. “You have to work in the morning.”

  “I know,” he said.

  His lips went to work on her neck, raising goose bumps over her entire body. “Tommy!”

  Laughing, he kept up the mischief until their laughter faded to moans.

  For the first morning since she’d given up her diet cola addiction, Sam didn’t feel like she was slugging through quicksand. That, she supposed, was progress. At HQ, she arrived to utter chaos in the pit.

  “Whoa,” she said to the noisy group of detectives gathered outside her office. “Whoa!”

  All eyes turned to her.

  “What the heck is going on?”

  “McBride is missing,” Freddie said quietly.

  A quick look at his face confirmed that what he’d said was true.

  As a surge of fear and adrenaline zipped through her, Sam zeroed in on Detective William Tyrone, McBride’s partner. “Define missing.”

  Tyrone swallowed hard. His usual composure had given way to panic, which added to Sam’s growing anxiety. “We did like you said—we followed Selina last night. She went to work, came home and that’s it. Nothing really happened. So me and Jeannie…I mean, Detective McBride, we parted ways. I told her I’d do the report from home and send it in. When I got home, I had a question I needed to ask her so I tried to call her, but there was no answer.”

  “Maybe she’s asleep?”

  He shook his head. “She always takes my calls. Always. Even when she’s asleep or with Michael.” Sam understood that. She and Cruz had a similar arrangement.

  “Did you go to her place?”

  Tyrone nodded. “And Michael’s. That’s when I started to get worried. She goes over there every morning after the nights she’s on duty to see him before he leaves for work. She never showed up, and he’s been trying to call her too. No way she’d ignore calls from both of us. That’s just not her. Something’s happened, L.T., I know it.”

  Sam’s stomach ached with the sharp pains she hadn’t experienced since she quit soda. The others were looking to her for direction. She bit back her own surge of panic, and tried to focus. “Recall second and third shifts. Put out an APB for her and her car. I want all available department resources directed toward finding her.”

  As the others scattered to follow her orders, Sam stepped into her office and reached for the phone to let Captain Malone and Chief Farnsworth know what was going on. Both arrived in the pit within minutes.

  “What do you know?” Farnsworth asked, his gray eyes flat with concern and stress. Once Sam had updated him, he demanded that Tyrone go through his story once more. By the time he was done, Sam could tell the young detective was coming unraveled.

  “Cruz,” she said, “take Tyrone to the cafeteria. Get him something to eat.”

  “I can’t eat, L.T. I just can’t. Give me something to do. Anything.”

  Sam thought for a moment. “Dump her cell phone. And the boyfriend’s.”

  “He didn’t have anything to do with this,” Tyrone said emphatically. “He’s crazy about her.”

  “Just do it, Detective.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered as he walked away.

  “What can I do?” Freddie asked.

  “Go with Gonzo and Arnold and get over to Columbia Heights. That’s where she was last seen. Take pictures of her with you and start a canvas.”

  “Do you think it’s related to our case?” he asked hesitantly.

  Sam thought about Maria and Regina and the bloody crime scenes at their homes. Then she thought of Jeannie—beautiful, smart, funny Jeannie. Her stomach ached. “I sure as hell hope not.”

  “But?”

  “Is it coincidental that she might’ve been snatched after watching one of their friends all night?”

  Freddie released an unsteady breath as the possibilities settled on him.

  “Go start the canvas, and report in every half hour.”

  Nodding, he hurried off.

  The chief stepped into the office.

  “I authorized all department resources be devoted to finding McBride,” Sam said. “But I realized I don’t have the authority—”

  “In a case like this you do. You absolutely do.”

  “I know I’m supposed to stay calm and take command…” If only her hands would quit shaking.

  “Give yourself a minute and then do just that.”

  “If anything happens to her…”

  “Things happen on this job, Lieutenant. You know that as well as anyone.”

  His words were the splash of cold water she’d needed. “I’ll set up a command post in the conference room and keep you informed of every development.”

  “Malone and I will run the command post. You’re more effective on the streets.”

  “That’s where I’d rather be.” She reached for a portable radio. “I’ll report in as soon as I have anything.”

  “Lieutenant,” Gonzo said from the doorway. “Jeannie’s boyfriend is here.”

  “Show him in.”

  Gonzo led a tall, black man dressed in a sharp-looking suit into the office. Sam could see how he and the tall, gorgeous Jeannie would make for a striking couple.

  “Thanks,” she said, dismissing Gonzo. “I’ll see you out there shortly.”

  “Michael Wilkinson,” the other man said, extending a hand.

  She shook his hand. “Sam Holland. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Likewise. Can you tell me what’s being done to find Jeannie?” His voice was calm but Sam could hear the hysteria lurking just below the surface.

  “We have every member of the department assigned to the search. When did you first realize something was wrong?”

  “Just after seven. Whenever she works at night, she always comes by as soon as her shift ends so we can spend some time together before I have to leave for work around nine. We work opposite schedules, so we grab the time when we can. If she’s ever detained, she always calls. So when she didn’t come and didn’t call and wasn’t answering her phone, I started to get worried. But I know how things can be with her job, so I didn’t think too much of it at first. Then Will showed up. I could tell something was wrong because he seemed kind of freaked-out and that’s not like him.”

  Sam was getting a better understanding of the dynamics between McBride and Tyrone. He did the reports so she could steal an hour with her boyfriend. Knowing McBride, she picked up the slack elsewhere when she could to pay him back for the courtesy.

  “Mr. Wilkinson, I have to ask where you were during the night.”

  His eyes flashed with surprise and then flattened with shock. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I have to ask.”

  Hands on his hips, frustration radiating from him, he said, “Since Jeannie came back here early yesterday, I worked late, grabbed dinner on the way home and was home by nine. I have an alarm system in my house that I set after I got home if you want to check.”

  “I appreciate your candor, and I’m sorry I had to ask.”

  “I love her, Lieutenant,” he said softly. “She’s it for me. I could never harm her. In fact, I was planning to propose this weekend.” He withdrew a small box from his suit pocket and showed her the ring.

  “It’s beautiful,” Sam said sincerely. “She’ll love it.”

  “We have to find her,” he said. “We have to.”

  “We will.” Sam’s mind raced as the possible scenarios ran through her mind like a horror movie. “We’ll find her.”

  Chapter 15

  They looked for her all day. A few minutes after seven that night, Sam stood on a sidewalk in Columbia Heights and fielded another call from Jeannie’s frantic mother. She did what she could to calm and reassure the woman while wishing someone would do the same for her. Just as she had the thought, Nick called.

  “Hey,” Sam said.

  “Any sign of her?”

  “Just her car. We found it down
by the Capitol Mall an hour ago. Crime scene is on it, but so far nothing that’ll help us find her.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What can I do for you, babe? I’ll do anything, just name it.”

  “I can’t think of another thing we could be doing. Malone called in the FBI an hour ago.” Under normal circumstances, Sam would resent federal agents butting into one of her cases, but in this case, she’d take all the help she could get.

  “How’re you holding up?”

  The tender tone of his voice brought tears to her eyes. Sam blinked them back. If she gave into them she might never stop. “I’ve had better days.”

  “Babe,” he said, sounding agonized. “I wish there was something I could do for you.”

  “It helps to hear your voice,” she said. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “I’m here if you need me. For anything.”

  “I know.”

  “Hang in there, and please be careful.”

  “I will.” She ended the call and gripped the phone for a long time, as if to hold on to him and his strength. Clearing the emotion from her throat, she turned to head back down the block and ran smack into Lt. Stahl—the very last person she wished to see just then.

  “Having trouble keeping track of your people, Lieutenant?” he asked. The smirk on his face took her over an edge she’d been hovering at for hours.

  “Are you enjoying this? What the hell is wrong with you? A decorated officer is missing and you have time to needle me? Get your fat ass out of my face, and go look for her!”

  She left him sputtering in her wake as she stalked off to find Cruz and Gonzo. Half a block later, she happened upon Captain Malone who’d left the command center in Chief Farnsworth’s hands an hour earlier to come out and check on their progress.

  “Anything?” Malone asked, his face tight with tension and fatigue.

  She shook her head. Her stomach continued to ache and the adrenaline that had fueled her all day had begun to give way to bone-deep fatigue. “What else could we be doing? There has to be something.”

  “We’re doing all we can.”

  She checked her watch. “We need to release some people to go home and sleep.”

  “You can release them, but they won’t go.”

  “Is it all over the news?”

  He nodded.

  “We may as well have put out the word that today would be a really good day to commit that crime you’ve been planning in the District.”

  “No kidding.”

  Their radios suddenly crackled with activity. They stopped walking to listen to the dispatcher relay a 911 call that was received about a naked black female found in an alley six blocks from where Sam and Malone were standing. Sam set off running and heard the captain following close behind her.

  “Is she alive?” Sam screamed into the radio. Her heartbeat rang through her ears like thunder, making it difficult to hear anything over her own heavy breathing.

  “The victim’s condition is unknown,” the dispatcher replied. “Paramedics are en route.”

  Detectives Arnold and Gonzales reported in from the scene a moment later that the woman in question was in fact Detective McBride and she was alive but unconscious, badly beaten and bleeding.

  The relief nearly caused Sam’s knees to buckle, and she faltered for a moment before regaining her stride.

  “Thank God,” she heard Malone say.

  They watched an ambulance come around the corner, practically on two wheels with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Sam and Malone arrived on the scene seconds before the ambulance.

  Gonzo had covered her with his coat so Sam couldn’t fully assess her injuries, but her pretty face was bruised and battered, almost beyond recognition. Sam suppressed a gasp when she noticed the cut across her throat. “Jesus.”

  When Cruz and Gonzo looked up at her, their expressions were grim.

  They all stood back when the paramedics pushed through the crowd that had gathered in the alley.

  “Get these people out of here,” Sam said. “I’ll stay with her. Call Tyrone, have him update her family.”

  Cruz and Gonzo cleared the spectators out of the alley. Malone answered a cell phone call and followed them.

  Sam crouched down by Jeannie’s head as the paramedics worked frantically to stabilize her for transport.

  “Do you know her blood type?” one of them asked Sam.

  “No, but it’ll be in her record.” She called dispatch and requested the information as the paramedics transferred her onto a stretcher and covered her. “What’ve you got?” Sam asked them, fighting to retain her professional composure when she wanted to beat the shit out of something or someone.

  The words flew at her in a blur as she chased after the paramedics. “Lost a lot of blood from the cut to her neck—even though it was a surface cut—probable sexual assault, possible fractured wrist, abrasions and contusions.”

  “Will she make it?” Sam asked, choking on a surge of nausea when she imagined what her friend and colleague had endured.

  One of the paramedics looked up at her. “Heart rate is steady, BP is low, but not dangerously so.”

  She knew he couldn’t give her any assurances, but it sounded like Jeannie’s condition, while grave, could be worse. Sam gestured to Freddie and Gonzo. “Get crime scene down here and go through every inch of this alley. Start a canvas. Someone saw him dump her here. Get me something.”

  As they took off, the dispatcher called back with Jeannie’s blood type. “AB positive.”

  Sam conveyed the information to the paramedics as she climbed into the ambulance to ride along with Jeannie, who was still unconscious. Sam was grateful the other woman’s body had given her a respite from having the relive the trauma—for now, anyway. The respite didn’t last for long, however. Halfway to the hospital Jeannie began to moan.

  Sam reached over to place a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “Shh,” she said. “You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

  When tears leaked from Jeannie’s eyes, Sam wiped them away. “Hurts,” Jeannie whispered.

  “Can you give her something for the pain?” Sam asked the paramedic.

  He nodded and called ahead to the E.R. for instructions.

  Jeannie licked her badly swollen lips and winced. “Drugged me. Something pricked my neck.”

  So that’s how they’d gotten to her.

  “Just relax.” Sam resisted the urge to go into interrogation mode. “We can talk about what happened later, when you feel better.”

  “I fought him.” A sob erupted from her throat. “Hard as I could.”

  “I know. You did good, Jeannie.”

  “Never saw him coming. I was going to Michael’s.” Her eyes flipped up to meet Sam’s. “Don’t let him see me like this. Please.”

  “He’s out of his mind with worry.”

  Her tears descended into whimpers that broke Sam’s heart. “Keep him away.”

  “Whatever you want. Just relax and focus on getting better.”

  “He said…” Her swollen eyes fluttered shut.

  “What? What did he say, Jeannie?”

  “To tell you to back off or you’ll be next.”

  Sam choked back a gasp as the implication registered. The man they were looking for had grabbed Jeannie, tortured and raped her and sent her back with a message. That was why he’d let her live. She patted Jeannie’s shoulder. “We’ll get him. For you and Maria and Regina and every other woman this sick bastard has attacked.” She had no doubt there were more women who probably hadn’t come forward.

  “Lieutenant,” the paramedic said. “We’re just about there.”

  Sam sat back on the bench so she wouldn’t be in the way as they unloaded the stretcher. She followed them into the Washington Hospital Center Emergency Room where most of the HQ detectives were waiting.

  In the instant after Jeannie was whisked into a trauma room Sam was bombarded with questions. She held up her hands to sto
p them. “She’s awake and talking but lost a lot of blood. I know she appreciates you being here, but I need you all to go home and get some sleep so we can hit it hard in the morning. Everyone, please, go home. You did good work today.”

  After a lot of mumbling and grumbling, most of the detectives left. Cruz, Gonzo, Arnold, Tyrone and Malone remained.

  “I thought you were handling the canvas,” she said to Cruz and Gonzo.

  “Second shift insisted on taking over because they know she’s our friend,” Cruz said.

  Sam nodded. “Okay.”

  A nurse emerged through the swinging double doors. “Lieutenant Holland? Detective McBride is asking for you.”

  To Malone, Sam said, “Don’t leave. I need to talk to you.” She followed the nurse through the corridors to Jeannie’s room where a team of doctors worked feverishly on her.

  A lump settled in Sam’s throat. She had no idea what to say so she reached for Jeannie’s hand and just held on while the plastic surgeon stitched the nasty gash on her throat.

  “They’ll do a rape kit,” Jeannie said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She looked up at Sam. “Will you stay with me?”

  “Of course, but wouldn’t you rather have your mother—”

  “No!”

  “Okay,” Sam said, taken aback by her vehemence. “Whatever you want. I need to update the others, but I’ll be right back.”

  Sam returned to the waiting room and signaled to Cruz and Gonzo. “There’s nothing more you can do tonight, so go on home. I want everyone well rested for tomorrow.”

  “Call if you need anything,” Gonzo said. “I’ll come back.”

  “Me too,” Cruz said.

  Sam promised she would and sent them on their way. She turned to Malone and relayed the message the perpetrator had sent.

  “Christ.” Hands on his hips, he studied her. “I don’t suppose you’d allow me to assign a couple of officers to escort you until this is over.”

  “Get real.”

  “This guy’s good, Sam. He snatched a veteran officer right off the street in broad daylight. Don’t tell me it can’t happen to you too.”

  “He won’t get to me.”

  “Um, I hate to remind you of what happened recently with Reese.” Clarence Reese had caught Sam off guard by jumping into the backseat of her car and holding her at gunpoint.