Fatal Justice (6 page)

With his lips pressed to her neck, he whispered, “Happy New Year.”

While Nick spent New Year’s Day packing up his Arlington house, Sam sat hunched over her laptop scrolling through every scrap of information she could find on Clarence Reese. In the meantime, Gonzo and Arnold were leading the manhunt for him on the streets. Through her research, Sam learned he’d grown up blocks away from her Ninth Street childhood home and wondered if perhaps he’d had a neighborhood altercation with her father. A call to Tracy, who was just a year older than Clarence, yielded nothing useful since she had no recollection of being in school with anyone with that name.

By noon, Sam was ready to tear her hair out. The connection had to be there. It
had
to be. Her stomach rumbled, and she decided to venture downstairs on a fishing expedition. She found her father sitting at the kitchen table scanning the reading device propped in front of his wheelchair. Bending to kiss his cheek, she said, “How’s it going?”

“All right. What’ve you been up to all morning?”

“Just catching up on some paperwork.”

“Nice party last night.”

“That was all Nick.”

“No kidding, really?”

His sarcastic eye roll amused her. “Would’ve been beer at O’Leary’s if I’d gotten my way.”

“Gives you a run for your money, that boy. I like that about him.”

Anxious to change the subject, she nodded to the reader. “What’s that?”

“The
Post
.”

“What’re they saying about the DD yesterday?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone as she opened a diet cola and joined him at the table.

“Most of what you already know. They interviewed some neighbors and friends who’re shocked. Never would’ve suspected he’d be capable. The usual. The kids and the wife were well liked, but he kept to himself. Apparently, he just got laid off.”

“Something about his name is familiar to me.” Sam watched her father intently. “Ring any bells with you?”

“Nope.”

She hoped the disappointment didn’t show on her face. “I read that he grew up on Seventh.”

“I saw that. Who’s running the investigation?”

Nothing
, Sam thought with dejection. If Skip Holland had ever met Clarence Reese, he didn’t remember it. “Gonzo and Arnold.”

“Losing his job could’ve triggered something.”

“Maybe. Judging by the condition of the house, things had been rough for some time. But the job thing might’ve been the final straw.”

“Nice article about Nick’s swearing in if you want to check it out. The
Post
did a poll in Virginia yesterday, and more than eighty percent of those surveyed approved of the governor choosing him to finish out O’Connor’s term. That’s a hell of an approval rating to start with.”

Sam reached for the front page and almost choked on her soda when she saw the huge picture of her holding the Bible as Nick took the oath of office. “Oh my
God!
You could’ve warned me!”

“And miss that reaction? No way.”

The caption read, “Metro Police Lieutenant Sam Holland holds the Bible as Chief Justice Byron Riley administers the oath of office to Nicholas Cappuano. A Democrat from Virginia, Cappuano will complete the last year of recently murdered Senator John O’Connor’s term. The romance between Cappuano and Holland has captured the attention of the entire capitol region over the last few weeks.”

Skip laughed. “It’s quite a picture. You look petrified.”

Sam dropped her head to the table. “
Why
do they care about us so much?
Why?
”

“You’re young and attractive, you have important jobs and people love a good romance.”

“Why can’t they just mind their own business?”

“Not gonna happen, honey. It’s probably going to get worse before they lose interest—
if
they lose interest.”

“Great.”

Skip’s nurse and fiancée Celia emerged from the basement carrying a laundry basket. “Hey, Sam, did you see the paper? What a wonderful picture of you and Nick!”

Skip smiled as Sam scowled.

“Yes, it’s
wonderful
,” Sam said.

“Sam’s not loving her moment in the spotlight,” Skip said.

“I think it’s so sweet,” Celia said with a dreamy expression. “You two are just
adorable
together.”

As Skip chortled with laughter, Sam banged her forehead against the table.

Detective Freddie Cruz paced the sidewalk in front of Total Fitness on Sixteenth Street. On this first day of the New Year, he was all about resolutions and none of them involved spending more time at the gym. No, this was the year he was finally going to get laid. No matter what it took, no matter what he had to do, no matter what personal ideals he had to sacrifice, he was going to have sex.

Raised a devout Christian by a single mother, he’d done his best for twenty-nine long years to make his mother proud by saving himself for marriage. But since he didn’t even have a girlfriend, let alone a potential wife, and with rampaging hormones making his life a living hell, he had decided to give in.

Nick’s aide Ginger had practically thrown herself at him at the party last night, but Freddie wasn’t interested in her.

Since he and Sam interviewed personal trainer Elin Svendsen during the O’Connor investigation, he found himself fantasizing about her day and night. The way she’d been so free about her sexuality and talked so openly about the kinky sex she’d had with the dead senator. She was all Freddie could think about. She was the one he wanted.

That was why he was lurking outside Total Fitness, wearing one of his trademark trench coats while trying to work up the nerve to step inside to inquire about personal training. She didn’t need to know he was interested in personal training of a different sort. At least not right away.

“Detective Cruz?”

Startled, he looked up, and there she was. Tall, blonde—so blonde her eyebrows were almost white—she had dark blue eyes and a smile right out of a toothpaste commercial. Carrying a tray containing four coffees and wearing a light blue down vest and black yoga pants, it was all Freddie could do to keep from drooling. She was even sexier than he remembered—and he remembered every excruciating detail of the night he’d spent protecting her in a hotel room while Thomas O’Connor hunted down his father’s ex-girlfriends.

“I thought that was you,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m, um, fine. And you?”

“Crazy today. It’s the busiest day of the year for us—all the resolutions.”

“Right,” Freddie said, remembering his own resolutions.

“Are you working on a case?”

“Me?”
No, idiot,
Freddie thought
, that other guy she’s talking to
. “Not today. I was just in the neighborhood and thinking about resolutions.”

She smiled.

He went hard as a stone and was thankful for the long coat.

“Do you want to come in? I could show you around and tell you about our program.”

“Um, sure, that sounds good.” He wondered if she’d think it strange if he kept his coat on inside.

After spending Sunday helping Nick finish packing up his place in Arlington, Sam woke up Monday morning with a stomachache. She lay still in Nick’s big new bed and tried to breathe her way through pain that had become predictable. Any time she was nervous or stressed out, she could count on her stomach to let her know. And judging by the particularly sharp pain, she was some kind of nervous.

Today she would officially take command of the HQ detectives. She had wanted the job for as long as she’d been a detective, but was nervous about all the responsibility that would come with overseeing forty detectives, hundreds of cases each year and all the accompanying personnel matters.

Another stabbing pain made her whimper.

Nick looped an arm around her. “What?”

“Stomach.”

“That’s it. I’m making you an appointment.”

“I’ll do it. Today.”

“Promise?”

Sam bit her lip and nodded as another sharp pain took her breath away.

“Come here.” Arranging her head on his shoulder, he rubbed her back and spoke softly to her.

Sam couldn’t help but relax into his embrace. Surrounded by the fragrance of soap and sporty deodorant, the scent of Nick, she focused on breathing her way through it. “Are you nervous?” she asked. “About today?”

“Nah. We’re both going to work in the same place with the same people.”

“Except we’re the bosses now.”

“Is that going to change you?”

“I’m not planning to let it,” she said.

“Neither am I. So everything will be just fine. Be yourself, be fair and you can’t lose. The other detectives love you. They’d do anything for you, and they know you’d do anything for them.”

“Some people in the department think I got this promotion because of my father and his connections.”

“Which you know isn’t true.”

Sam swallowed hard and glanced up at him. “It kind of is.”

His eyebrows narrowed with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I had trouble with the exam. I flunked it the first two times—because of the dyslexia. I just barely passed this time.”

“But you
did
pass.”

“My dad told Farnsworth about the dyslexia. He used his discretion as chief to authorize my promotion. If that ever gets out, people will scream favoritism.”

“Is the exam the only qualifying factor?”

“No, there’s more to it than that—experience, training, interviews, the graduate degree I worked my ass off to get. It all counts.”

“Then it sounds to me as if Farnsworth promoted the most worthy candidate.”

Sam smiled and realized her stomach no longer hurt. “And you’re not the slightest bit biased.”

“Not one bit,” he said, tipping her chin up to receive his kiss. “You’re going to be the best lieutenant that department has ever had. I have no doubt.”

She needed to get up and get moving but couldn’t seem to bring herself to leave the warmth of his embrace. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” He shifted so he was on top of her.

“What’s this?” she asked with a coy smile.

“Just making sure you get a good breakfast on your first day,” he said, entering her.

Sam laughed even as she gasped from the impact. “We don’t have time…”

“Then we’d better be quick.”

“Mmm,” she sighed. “I love quick.”

Emerging from Nick’s house forty-five minutes later, they were blinded by camera flashes.

“What the hell?” Sam muttered, covering her eyes.

With his hand on her elbow, Nick guided her down the stairs. “Let us through,” he said in a tone full of controlled fury as he pushed his way through the half-dozen photographers. “Goddamn it,” he whispered.

Not wanting to give the photographers any more fodder, Sam tried to shake off his hand, but he just held on tighter.

They reached her car, and Nick took her keys to unlock it. As more flashes exploded around them, she looked up at him with a forced smile. “This is fun.”

His face was set in an unreadable expression. “I’ll call you. Good luck today.”

“You, too.” Without the kiss she would’ve liked to have had, Sam got into the car, and he closed the door. She watched him until he was safely inside his black BMW. Her cell phone rang. “Holland,” she said without checking the caller ID.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked.

“Fabulous. You?”

“Terrific,” he said with a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“All this attention. It’ll die down. Eventually.”

“I don’t think it’s going to.”

“You sound pissed,” he said.

“I’m more resigned than pissed.”

“When are you going to mention that you told me so?”

“I’m saving that for when I
really
need it,” she joked. The combination of his sexy voice and their teasing banter helped to restore her good mood.

“I’ll look forward to that,” he said. “See you later?”

“Yes, you will. Love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. Be careful today.”

“I always am.”

Sam navigated her way through rush-hour traffic and arrived at the public safety building fifteen minutes later. Her good mood once again dissipated when she found Lieutenant Stahl waiting for her in the office that used to be his.

“I need to call maintenance.” She flipped on the lights and hung her coat on a hook behind the door. “The rat traps they set in here clearly aren’t working.”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

The revolting wiggle of his double chin made her want to puke.

“Things not working out for you in the rat squad?” she asked, referring to his new post in the department’s Internal Affairs Bureau.

“Actually, I’m settling right in.” He bit a chunk of skin off his cuticle and spit it onto the floor.

Sam made a mental note to stay away from that corner of the office until it was fumigated.

“And you’re my first order of business.”

“I’m flattered.”

His beady eyes narrowed. “You won’t be so mouthy when your sordid affair with a witness gets you busted down to patrol.”

She leaned on her desk to look him in the eye. “Three words, Lieutenant: Bring. It. On.”

Fuming, he hauled his portly ass out of the chair. “Your wish is my command.” He slapped a piece of paper on her desk. “Administrative hearing next week. Be there, and be ready to explain yourself.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” she said, taking a shallow breath to short-circuit the pain grinding in her belly.

“Don’t think your precious daddy can get you out of this one, Lieutenant.” He stopped at the door and turned to leave her with a greasy smile. “And you’d better enjoy that title while you can. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be thankful for a night security job at a parking garage.”

Sam let him have the last word because she couldn’t have spoken if she had to. The moment she was alone she lowered herself into her chair and fought to breathe through the pain. This was
not
how she wanted to start her first day.

Freddie came to the door. “Getting settled, Lieutenant?” He took a closer look at her. “What’s wrong?”

Sam made a huge effort to shake off the pain and anger. “Nothing. How are you? Good holiday?”

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “You’re pale as a ghost. What gives?”

She handed him the paper Stahl had left with her.

As Freddie glanced at it, his brows furrowed. “A summons to an IAB hearing? What the hell?”

“Nick.”

“What about him?”

“Stahl’s got Internal Affairs investigating me for hooking up with him in the middle of the O’Connor investigation.”

“Are you serious? Without Nick’s help we’d
still
be looking for O’Connor’s killer.”

“He was the one who found O’Connor dead, so technically I shagged a witness. Stahl’s going to find a way to screw
me
for that.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. Farnsworth and Malone will back you.”

“They’ll be forced to confirm that I became involved with Nick during the investigation.” She ran her fingers over the hair she’d corralled into a clip for work. “Goddamned Peter.” Just the thought of her ex-husband made her stomach turn, but with disgust rather than pain. In a jealous rage, he planted crude bombs on her car and Nick’s. When her car exploded and injured them both, it also blew the lid off their secret relationship. “This is all his fault. Without him dicking with me, no one would’ve known about me and Nick until Thomas O’Connor was locked up and we were ready for them to know.”

“It’ll be fine, Sam. Stahl’s got a beef with them giving you his command. That’s all this is, and everyone will see right through it.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said with zero confidence that he was. “Do me a favor and don’t say anything about this to Nick or my dad.”

“You aren’t going to tell Nick?” Freddie asked, incredulous.

“Not if I can avoid it. He’s got enough on his plate right now, and this’ll just upset him.”

“Won’t he be more upset when he finds out you kept it from him?”

Sam’s scowl answered for her. She’d handle this her way, and if Nick didn’t like it, that was too damned bad. She wasn’t about to start telling him how to run his career. “Are Gonzo and Arnold here yet?”

“They caught a sexual assault first thing. They’re at the George Washington E.R. taking a statement from the victim.”

“Send them in the minute they get here. I want to know what they’ve got on Clarence Reese so far. I worked his name into conversation with my dad and got zilch. If he had contact with Reese, he doesn’t remember it.”

“Frustrating.”

“To say the least. I just keep asking myself—why would Reese have all that stuff about the shooting if he wasn’t involved somehow? Let’s see what Gonzo and Arnold found out, and then we’ll hit it ourselves this afternoon. I want to talk to Reese’s mother and brother.”

“You’re the boss, L.T.”

“It’s going to be kind of weird around here until I figure things out. I’d understand if you wanted to partner with someone else—”

He held up his hand to stop her. “I’m all set with the partner I have.”

“I’m planning to work some second and third shifts in the next few weeks to touch base with everyone. You don’t want to do that.”

“I’ll work when my partner works.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sucking up?”

“Always.”

Taking another long look at him, she sized him up. “What’s with you? You’re all spiffed up today.”

“Nothing,” he said, but he blushed.

Sam stood up and walked around the desk for a closer look. Standing almost eye to eye with him, she turned on her most intimidating expression. “Tell me the truth—did you hook up with that Ginger chick from Nick’s office?”

“No!”

Sniffing, she realized he was wearing cologne. “Something’s up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stepped back from her. “Just because you’re Little Miss Romance these days doesn’t mean the rest of us are, too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about romance?”

“I’ve got work to do,” he huffed, his
GQ
-handsome face turning red again.

Oh yes, something was
definitely
up.

“Let me know when you’re ready to head out,” he said as he beat feet to the safety of his cubicle in the detectives’ pit.

“You’ll be the first to know.”

She watched him go, noting the pressed khakis and the untucked striped dress shirt that were wildly out of character for her denim-wearing, T-shirt-clad partner.
Does my little boy have a girlfriend?
Scratching at her chin, she decided to keep a very close eye on young Freddie.

Returning to her desk, she read and re-read the IAB summons. With a sigh, she put her aching head down on folded arms.

“I guess that answers my question about how your first day is going.”

Jerking her head up, she found Captain Malone standing in her doorway. Her mentor was almost as tall as Nick with broad shoulders and gray hair. His warm brown eyes crinkled with mirth. Today he wore a crisp white uniform shirt and dark pants. His gold shield was pinned to his chest, his service weapon holstered to his hip.

“Is it time to go home yet?”

“Not even lunchtime, I’m afraid.”

She rested her head against the back of the desk chair. “I’ve never understood the expression ‘be careful what you wish for’ until today.”

He laughed.

“I may not be cut out for this,” she confessed. “Not even an hour in the office and I’m already jonesing for the streets.”

“No reason you can’t do both.”

She shot him a skeptical look.

“You’re the
boss
, Lieutenant. Set things up the way they best suit you. Delegate, delegate, delegate.”

Sam pondered that advice. “I’ll go out of my mind if I can’t work some cases.”

He shrugged. “So pick and choose what you want.”

For the first time since she arrived, Sam had reason to smile.

“It’s called
command
, Lieutenant. Take command.”

“Stahl did all his own admin,” she reminded him.

“Stahl sucked, his people hated him and his commanders did, too. Don’t take your cues from him. Pave your own path. Just don’t let your shit roll uphill to me, and we’ll be fine.”

She reached for the paper Stahl had left, handed it to the captain and watched his mouth tighten with displeasure.

“Since I’m sure you won’t forget what this says, do you mind if I take it to show the chief?”

“Be my guest.”

“Try not to worry. Stuff like this tends to blow over more often than not.”

“He’s got a beef with how I ended up here,” she said, gesturing to the office. “He can’t prove the promotion was bogus, so he’s going after me with the gift-wrapped package I handed him during O’Connor.”

“Nick was never a suspect,” Malone reminded her. “Worst possible outcome is a disciplinary letter in your jacket.”

“It’s still a slap.”

“Put it out of your mind for now. I’ll do what I can on my end.”

“Thanks.”

“Hope your day improves,” Malone said with an encouraging smile as he left her to the piles of paper Stahl had bequeathed to her.

Nick’s first order of business was a meeting with Christina and Trevor.

“We need to talk about a deputy,” Christina said, pulling a sheet of paper from her binder. “Here’re a few people to consider.”

Nick scanned the list of staffers. “I’ve already taken care of that.”

Startled, Christina looked up at him. “Who?”

“Terry O’Connor.”

She stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.”

Her face went slack with shock. “But, I don’t understand. Why?”

“Because he was groomed his whole life to hold this office, and I guarantee he’ll bring more to the table than anyone on that impressive list of yours.”

“This is you being loyal to the O’Connors, isn’t it?”

Nick suppressed the burst of anger that shot through him. “This is me doing what I want to do, Christina.”

“He’s got a lot of baggage,” Trevor observed.

“Luckily we’re not running for anything,” Nick said. “What’s next?”

They exchanged glances.

“What?”

Trevor tugged a paper from his pile and held it up for Nick to see.

“Son of a bitch,” Nick muttered as he got a look at a print out of the photos taken that morning outside his house. “They’re already online?”

“On the
Post
site and the
Star
’s.”

“Great,”
he said, imagining Sam’s reaction to the suggestive photos.

“We’ve got some new polling data in, too,” Trevor said with a nervous look at Christina. “Your approval rating in the Commonwealth is hovering right around seventy-eight percent. Unfortunately, the other twenty-two percent tend to be in the conservative, family-values column, and they don’t approve of this.” He referred to the picture.

“Well, that’s too bad.” Nick’s jaw felt tight with tension. “Again, I’ll remind you that I’m not running for anything.”

“No, but that moral minority can make the next year awfully unpleasant for us,” Trevor said.

“It’ll be a distraction, Nick, er, I mean, Senator,” Christina said. “Sorry.”

“This subject is off limits, people,” Nick said.

“You could take care of the whole thing,” Trevor said hesitantly, “if you, you know, married her.”

“I can’t even get her to officially move in with me. She’s not ready for that, and she’s certainly not ready for the M word. Not after what she just went through with her ex-husband.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, Senator,” Trevor said, “but your relationship with her is going to pull the focus off the issues. All I’m saying is if you could convince her to marry you, it’d take the wind out of the media’s sails. Even an engagement would make things a lot easier.”

“He’s right,” Christina added. “Once the relationship is legitimate, it loses its appeal.”

“Are you guys finished analyzing my personal life?” Nick asked.

They had the good grace to at least squirm a little.

He leaned forward to make sure he had their full attention. “The relationship is
already
legitimate, and I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of it. Is that clear?”

“We get it,” Christina said. “All we’re asking is that you think about what Trevor said. If you’re heading toward marriage, sooner would be better than later.”