Fatal Consequences

by Marie Force

  Sam glanced at Archie, who was watching her with a barely disguised gleam in his eye. “This is so gross,” she said.

  “Never arranged for a call girl before, Lieutenant?”

  She rolled her eyes at him and pressed pound, bracing herself for the menu.

  “For domination, please press one. For restraint, please press two. For animals, please press three.”

  “Oh my God,” Sam whispered. “I’m going to be ill.”

  Archie snickered.

  “For anal intercourse, please press four. For auto-erotic asphyxiation, please press five. For whips, chains and S and M, please press six.”

  Sam decided she’d heard more than enough and pressed the number one.

  “Thank you for your selection. Your date will be prepared to fulfill your every fantasy. Please call again soon. Goodbye.”

  Sam closed the phone and glanced at Archie. “I need a shower.”

  He laughed and took the phone from her. “Who’s the lucky john?”

  “Cruz. He can barely contain his excitement.”

  “What’ve you got planned for him?”

  “Just some domination. I figured animals might be too much for him.”

  Grimacing, he said, “Ugh. Disgusting.”

  “Totally.”

  “I’ll go see what we were able to get from the cell towers.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, Sam, this thing with Gibson…sucks.”

  “It is what it is. I’ll deal with it.”

  “I hope you know every cop in this city will be keeping tabs on him. He wouldn’t dare step out of line again.”

  “Yes, he probably will, and when we nail him next time, we’ll do it right.”

  “You bet we will.”

  “Appreciate the support.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to say congrats on the engagement, either. Seems like you got a good guy there.”

  She smiled. “Thanks, I like him.”

  “You deserve to be happy after all you’ve been through.”

  Sam remembered that in a weak moment she’d told him about the miscarriages she’d suffered while married to Peter. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll get back to you with what we got from the call.” He left with a wave, and Sam watched him go. He was the only fellow cop she’d ever dated, and no one they worked with had ever known they were together. She was relieved that they were now able to be good colleagues without the “we used to sleep together” baggage.

  Sam grabbed the portable radio off her desk and her coat. In the pit, she found Freddie on the phone. When he hung up, she said, “Nine o’clock at the Ambassador. Tell all of second shift I want them on backup.”

  “What’d you order for me, or do I not want to know?”

  “Probably better if you don’t know. How’s Selina making out with Jackson?”

  “Slow going. He’s having trouble getting her to focus.”

  “When you have a picture, text me. Nick knows everyone in this town. He might be able to ID the guy.”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  “Not yet. I’m off to see Lightfeather. See you around eight-thirty in The Ambassador lobby.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Call me if anything comes up between now and then.”

  “Sam?”

  She turned back.

  “Are you going to court tomorrow? For Peter’s hearing?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Why not?”

  “I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking that I care enough to waste part of my day on him.” She would’ve told Nick the same thing if he’d consulted her before he lost his mind on TV.

  “I’ve been worried about how you’ll deal with this.”

  “He tried to run my life for four long years. I’m not giving him one more minute.”

  “It might help Nick to hear you say that.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ll tell him if I can find him.”

  “If you need help with that, you know where I am. Otherwise, see you in a couple of hours.”

  On the way to see Lightfeather, she thought about what Freddie had said. She wished she knew where Nick was just then. If she knew, she’d go find him as soon as she finished with Henry. Hopefully, Nick would be home by then.

  Sam’s cell phone rang, and hoping it was him, she put the phone on speaker. “Holland.”

  “Sam, it’s Shelby Faircloth. Have I caught you at a bad time?”

  “Tinker Bell,” she said, “it’s always a bad time in my world. That’s why I need you.”

  Shelby’s girlish giggle made Sam smile. “I’m at your service. I received a phone call today from Vera Wang.”

  “The actual Vera Wang?”

  “The one and only. She saw some photos of you wearing her at the White House and asked about the possibility of doing your dress.”

  Sam had to suppress her own urge to giggle like a girl. “Vera Wang—the Vera Wang—wants to do my dress?”

  “You heard me. I thought you might approve, so she’s sending several options for you via overnight express. Could I bring them by after work tomorrow?”

  “Sure, but I’m in the middle of a murder investigation. I can’t promise to be there by a certain time.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll start with a fitting for your sisters and the girls for their dresses, and we’ll work up to the main event once you break free. Is seven-thirty okay?”

  “I’ll make sure they’re there, and I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  “You might also want to make sure the groom has other plans.”

  “Ohhh, good thought.”

  “See you then.”

  After indulging in a most un-cop-like squeal, Sam called her sisters to share the news. Angela and Tracy, after some major squealing of their own, agreed to meet Shelby at Nick’s place. Tracy promised to bring her daughters Brooke and Abby, who were Sam’s junior bridesmaids. She couldn’t wait to tell Nick that she’d actually managed to handle some wedding business during the long workday.

  On the hotel’s seventh floor, she found the same two police officers guarding Lightfeather’s door. “Anything going on?” she asked.

  “They’ve been fighting,” one of them said.

  “Been going at it all day,” the other said. “How much longer do you think we’ll need to be here?”

  “Hopefully, not much longer.” Sam knocked on the door.

  “Thank God,” the younger of the two officers muttered.

  Annette Lightfeather answered the door, grimacing once again at the sight of Sam and her badge. “What now?”

  “May I please speak to your husband?”

  Annette stepped aside to admit Sam. A suitcase sat inside the door.

  “Going somewhere?” Sam asked.

  “Home to my children.”

  “Lieutenant,” Henry said. “What can I do for you?”

  He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Wearing a polo shirt and wrinkled khaki pants, his eyes were rimmed with red, and he seemed to have given up on shaving.

  As Sam crossed the room to him, she heard Annette’s suitcase roll over the tile foyer. The hotel room door opened and snapped closed behind her.

  “Well,” Henry said. “I guess that’s that.”

  “Sir?”

  “She asked for a divorce.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No job, no wife and probably no kids either, since she vowed to fight me for custody. Best part is I have no one but myself to blame.”

  Since Sam had no idea what to say to that, she sat down in the same chair she’d occupied the last time they met. “I’m afraid I have some news that’s going to add to your dismay.” She watched him brace himself for further disaster. “Regina was involved in a call girl ring.”

  His mouth fell open and then closed. “That can’t be true.”

  Sam had learned to stay quiet at times like this. People needed to reach their own conclusions in their own t
ime. Saying it a second time didn’t help it go down any easier.

  “You’re sure?” he asked softly.

  “Yes.”

  Henry got up and went over to the window. Hands in his pockets, his shoulders were hunched. “This entire week, as my life unraveled around me, do you know what has kept me sane?” He turned to face her. “Knowing that she loved me. She loved me.”

  “She needed money. That doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”

  He picked up a glass and rolled it between his hands. Suddenly, he whipped his arm back and sent the glass hurling across the room. It smashed on contact with the wall. Sam wondered if Nick had looked as fierce when he threw his phone across his office.

  “I gave up everything for her, and she was screwing other guys the same time she was screwing me?”

  Sam held her tongue and gave him a chance to absorb the blow.

  Another thought seemed to occur to him. “The baby…”

  “Was yours. The DNA confirmed that.”

  His eyes, which had been fixed on a spot on the wall, shifted to her. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I believe there’s a major, high-level prostitution organization ring at work in the city, and everyone knows about it but those of us in law enforcement.”

  Returning to the sofa, he sat. “I don’t know about it.”

  “You’ve never heard rumors, innuendo, talk, anything?”

  “I’m known on the Hill—or I was known—as a family man. My colleagues would hardly discuss hookers around me.”

  “We believe Regina, Maria and their colleague Selina Rameriz were recruited into the organization by one of your colleagues.”

  Lightfeather stared at her. “One of my Senate colleagues?”

  Sam nodded. “Someone whose office is in the Hart Building. All three of the women worked there.”

  “A lot of people work in the Hart Building. Some of the senior staff wield as much power behind the scenes as the senators themselves.”

  “We’ll be investigating everyone who works in that building, but I’d bet my badge it’s not going to be a staffer. Anything you can tell me would help us to find the person who murdered Regina.”

  “After hearing she was sleeping around, I’m supposed to still care about who killed her?”

  “The sooner we find the killer, the sooner we’ll release you from this hotel room. Maybe then you can attempt to put your life back together.”

  Lightfeather ran his fingers through his hair. “Talk to Bob Cook,” he said, referring to the senior senator from Virginia. “Nothing happens on the Hill that he doesn’t know about.”

  “What about Trent?” Sam asked.

  “Other than the car accident in high school, he’s squeaky clean. As far as I know anyway.” He released a short laugh. “A week ago, people would’ve said the same about me.”

  Sam stood up. “I appreciate your candor, Senator.”

  “I’m not a senator anymore.”

  “I still appreciate your candor. Let me know if you think of anything else that might help our investigation.”

  Chapter 26

  Freddie called as Sam was heading home. “Tillinghast’s wife is refusing protective custody.”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake. Have the marshals call me so I can talk to her.”

  “On it.”

  Sam closed her phone and waited for the callback. When it came, she said, “Put her on.”

  “Here she is, Lieutenant.”

  “I know what you’re going to say, but—”

  “Shut up and listen to me,” Sam said in her best cop growl. “The man we’re protecting you and your daughters from has viciously raped and murdered two women as well as kidnapping and raping one of my officers. Now, I want you to pack your bags and get into the goddamned car with the marshals. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes,” she said, sounding more subdued now. “Fine. What about my low-life husband?”

  “He’s probably safer in jail than he’d be with you.”

  “No question about that.”

  “Cooperate with the marshals so we can keep you and your girls safe. No screwing around.”

  “For how long?”

  “As long as it takes. Don’t tell anyone where you’ve gone.”

  “Anywhere is better than here. Media trucks are lining my street.”

  “Then get the hell out of there.”

  When Sam parked on Ninth Street a short time later, she was distressed to see their place still dark and Nick’s car nowhere in sight. “Where is he?” For a brief, horrifying moment, she wondered if the sicko she was hunting down had nabbed him to get at her. “No,” she whispered, refusing to entertain the possibility. He was out with his friends, and he knew she was busy with the case so he wasn’t worried about getting home.

  Since she had ninety minutes until she was due to meet Freddie and the others at The Ambassador, she took her radio and went inside, hoping Nick would come home before she had to leave again. In the kitchen, she contemplated making something to eat, but her stomach turned at the idea of food. As the possibility of something untoward happening to Nick took hold, Sam paced the living room. “Maybe I should be out there looking for him,” she said to herself. But where to even begin? She didn’t even know what gym he frequented.

  Just as she was about to call Freddie to see if he thought they should be looking for Nick, the doorbell rang. Sam ran for the door, threw it open and was relieved to find Nick and his doctor friend Harry on the stoop. After the thorough examination she’d recently withstood at Harry’s hands, it was all Sam could do to make eye contact.

  “I understand this belongs to you,” Harry said. His sinfully handsome face became even more so when he smiled.

  Nick stepped into the light, and Sam gasped at the bruise under his right eye. “What happened? Did you get into a fight?” She was so damned glad to see him that she didn’t even care if he’d been fighting.

  “Nothing so dramatic, babe,” he said, a slight slur infecting his words. “An elbow to the face on the basketball court.”

  Sam stepped aside so Harry could escort Nick to the sofa. Once there, Nick put his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. His white dress shirt was dirty and his loosened tie was crooked. She’d never seen him even slightly buzzed, so drunk and disheveled was unexpected, to say the least.

  “I joined them after happy hour,” Harry whispered to Sam. “Never did manage to catch up.”

  “Did anyone see him like this?” Sam asked, wondering what kind of media coverage he was in for the next day in addition to losing his cool on TV.

  “Only his close friends. We take care of our own, Lieutenant.”

  Since Nick seemed to be asleep, Sam said, “He’s had a rough couple of days.”

  “He mentioned that he saw his mother yesterday, but we sort of suspected since that’s the only time he really hits the bottle.”

  “So this has happened before?”

  “Couple of times over the years. After her last wedding, he was drunk for a week. We found out later that she refused to introduce him as her son because she didn’t want the new husband to think she was lying about her age. You probably already know this latest encounter cost him twenty-five grand. Now that she knows he has money, no doubt she’ll be back for more.”

  “What a bitch.” Sam had suspected he’d given his mother money, but not that much. “I’d like two minutes alone with her to tell her what a piece of shit she is.”

  “You and everyone else who loves him. He told me once, years ago in a weak moment, that the scent of her perfume undoes him. I think he said it’s Chanel No. 5 or some knockoff version. Every time he catches a whiff of that stuff he goes into a tailspin. He said when he was little, he use to be able to smell her for days after she visited until his grandmother forced him to take a bath.”

  Sam’s heart broke in half for the little boy who’d craved his mother’s love and attention—and never got either. “Will he be o
kay?”

  “Usually takes him a week or two to shake it off, but with your ex-husband about to get sprung, might take longer this time. He’s taking that really hard too.”

  Listening to his friend, Sam realized she still had a lot to learn about the man she loved. “Thanks for bringing him home, Harry.”

  “No problem.” He headed for the door. “You and I are overdue for a little chat.”

  “We are?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Lieutenant.”

  Sam smiled, remembering how much she’d enjoyed his wit the first time they met—over an exam table in his office.

  “How’s the soda famine going?” he asked.

  “I’m cranky as hell but my stomach is better.”

  “Shocking! Maybe it was that gallon of diet cola you were drinking every day that was giving you crippling stomach pain. What an incredible coincidence!”

  “Do they teach sarcasm in medical school?”

  “I come by that naturally. What about the other thing we talked about?”

  Sam’s smile faded, and her heart raced.

  “Given it any thought?”

  Sam gave him a withering look. “What do you think?”

  “And?”

  “I’m late…I think.” She hadn’t been able to even ponder the possibility that had been hovering in her subconscious, let alone say it out loud.

  Harry’s eyebrows came together in an expression that took him from carefree friend to concerned doctor in an instant. “Define late.”

  “A week. Maybe two. I don’t really keep track because my periods are so erratic, but I probably should’ve had one.” She cleared her throat. “By now.”

  “I told you if you had all your parts that it was possible…”