Fatal Scandal: Book Eight of the Fatal Series (12 page)

“They probably haven’t had the chance because they’re trying to figure out who really killed her. Let me call Carson.”

“If I bring in a big-time criminal lawyer like him, I may as well declare my guilt at the same time.”

“You need to protect yourself.”

“If I lawyer up, Christina, everyone will think I’m guilty.”

“Baby, they already do! My phone is ringing off the hook.”

“Fuck. This is a motherfucking nightmare. And why the hell isn’t Sam returning my calls?”

“I’m sure she’s doing what she can... Oh, look! She’s making a statement outside HQ.”

Gonzo spun around and nearly fainted from the relief of seeing his boss and friend approaching the microphone.

“I have just a brief statement. This morning, the body of Lori Phillips was found in a parked car near West Potomac Park. Ms. Phillips had been strangled. You are correct in reporting that she is the mother of MPD Detective Sergeant Thomas Gonzales’s young son. You are
incorrect
in reporting that he is a suspect. I will repeat myself to ensure that you hear me. Thomas Gonzales is
not
a suspect in the murder of Lori Phillips. Whatever information you may have received from a so-called police source was erroneous. The only police source with credibility on this case is me.”

A bottle blonde from one of the local TV stations asked, “How can you investigate a case that involves one of your own people?”

“Did you just hear me say this case does
not
include one of my own people?”

“How was Detective Sergeant Gonzales eliminated as a suspect?”

“He has an alibi and is a decorated police officer who was recently grievously injured in the line of duty. In addition, we have a person of interest currently in custody and will have more information in the next few days. In the meantime, if you continue to broadcast and publish Sergeant Gonzales’s name in connection to this case, you’ll be opening yourself to civil litigation. I wouldn’t blame him for suing your asses off. That’ll be it.”

“When does your husband begin work at the White House?”

Sam rolled her eyes at the reporter who’d asked the question and turned away from the reporters to go back inside.

“There,” Christina said. “Do you feel better now?”

Thanks to Sam’s statement he was now able to get air to his lungs. “Yeah. But I won’t really feel better until they catch whoever actually killed her.”

Christina stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hold on to me, baby. Just hold on to me.”

Her nearness, her affection and her support calmed him. He put his arms around her and did as she requested. She was the only thing holding him together and the only thing he couldn’t live without.

“How will I ever be able to do my job again with people thinking I’m capable of killing someone? I’ve spent my career tracking down killers, and now they think I am one?”

“Let me tell you something I know for sure. The news cycle has a limited lifespan. In a day or two, something else will happen and people will forget all about this.”

“That might be true, but I’ll never forget.” And he’d sure as hell find out which one of his brothers or sisters in the police department had seen fit to point the finger at him.

* * *

While Freddie took Hughes to Central Processing, Sam headed for the detectives’ pit to check in with the rest of her team. The first one she ran into was Gonzo’s partner, Detective Arnold. The young officer approached her tentatively. “It’s not true, is it, Lieutenant? He didn’t kill her, did he?”

“No, he didn’t kill her, but someone wants us to think he did. And I’m starting to think that someone is in this building.”

“Seriously?”

“How else would the press be hearing from a ‘police source’ with information about the investigation?” She released the clip that held her hair, ran her fingers through the length and then resecured it. “Where is everyone?”

“Jeannie and Tyrone tracked down some of Lori’s coworkers, and they went to interview them. Carlucci and Dominguez are with Crime Scene at Lori’s place.”

“Warrant?”

“Yes, ma’am. Captain Malone was able to secure it for them.”

“Excellent.”

“I’m working the phones trying to track down the social worker who oversaw Gonzo’s case. She’s out of town for the holidays, but I left several messages on her phone.”

“Good work. Thanks for the update and keep me posted.” Sam went into her office and did a quick scan of her email, where she found a report from Lindsey detailing the findings of the autopsy. Lori had been manually strangled, but there were no usable prints on her neck. “Of course there weren’t,” Sam muttered. The semen found in Lori’s vagina had been sent out for DNA analysis that would take about forty-eight hours, and Lindsey had included detailed information about the drugs and alcohol found in Lori’s system. No defensive wounds to the victim’s hands, indicating that the fatal attack had possibly taken her by surprise. “Someone she trusted,” Sam deduced. “We need to get closer to her inner circle.”

“Talking to yourself, Lieutenant?” Captain Malone asked as he came into her office.

“Working the case, Captain.”

“What’ve you got?”

“A woman who worked hard to turn her life around found strangled in a parked car belonging to her brother. She had an elevated blood alcohol count and traces of cocaine in her system.”

“So she was off the wagon.”

“Seems that way. And all of this is happening days after she went public about Gonzo’s previous connection to the judge who heard their custody case. What I want to know is what ‘police source’ is telling the media he’s our prime suspect.”

“We’re looking into that.”

“What did Conklin find out when he talked to Ramsey?”

“Ramsey said he didn’t do it.”

“I don’t believe him. I saw him on the stairs this morning, and he told me to fuck off when I said hello to him. I reported it to Davidson, for all the good that’ll do.”

“What beef does Ramsey have with you?”

“Who knows? I worked with him on the Kavanaugh investigation and have had a couple of other brushes with him, but nothing that would cause him to do something like this. And I don’t believe for a second he had nothing to do with it. We had words this morning, I complained about him to his lieutenant and a couple of hours later my second in command is being accused of murder by an ‘inside source’? You do the math on that one.”

“It does smell fishy. We’ll stay on it. In the meantime, where are we with figuring out who really did it?”

“We’ve got a guy in custody I’m going to talk to as soon as Cruz gets him through Central Booking.” She told him about Hughes, the outstanding warrant on child support charges and the new warrant being processed to search his house for evidence in the Phillips case.

“You’re working with Baltimore on that?”

She nodded. “They’re getting the warrant and are aware that we arrested him.”

“Excellent. I’ll be sure to include ‘plays well with others’ on your evaluation. Speaking of playing well with others, Hill’s Deputy Agent Terrell is here to consult on the case.”

“Why not Hill?”

“Apparently, he had a personal matter to attend to today and was unavailable.”

“Huh, interesting.” Since the only personal life Hill had, that Sam knew of, involved her assistant, she was immediately curious. And then she told herself that
his
personal business was certainly none of
her
business. “Where is Terrell?”

“I put him in the conference room until you got back.”

“I’ll bring him up to speed on what we’ve got so far.”

“Thank you for that and for what you’re doing for the chief in the morning.”

Sam almost asked him what he meant and then she remembered promising to make the rounds on TV with the chief. The thought of it made her stomach quiver with nerves. But she’d do it for him. “The bullshit may as well be good for something, right?”

Cruz came to the door. “Hughes has been processed. He’s in Interrogation Two with Beckett watching him.”

“Go see to Elin.”

“Are you sure? I can wait until after we talk to him.”

“Arnold is here and the FBI dude. We got it covered.” To Malone, Sam said, “Detective Cruz’s girlfriend was assaulted this morning at her place of employment.”

“The gym on Sixteenth?” Malone asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Heard about that. Word is she took one hell of a hit. We got the guy in custody. He’s cooling off downstairs.”

“Go, Cruz. Report in later and let me know how she is.”

“I will, thank you.”

“She’s okay, right?” Sam asked Malone.

“I think so. Officer Andrews is the one who said she took a bad hit, but that’s all he said.”

In a day full of things to worry about, Sam thought, now there was something else.

Chapter Eleven

Freddie rushed out of HQ, pushing through the scrum of reporters still lingering in the courtyard on his way to the parking lot. He wasted no time pulling out of the lot and into traffic on his way to the George Washington Hospital emergency room. On the way, he tried to call Elin, but the call went straight to her voice mail, indicating her phone was probably off or dead.

She was forever forgetting to charge it. He’d bought her a charging case for Christmas, not that she ever used it. The woman drove him crazy in more ways than one, but he loved her anyway. And the thought of her hurt, assaulted... He gripped the wheel tighter in response to the flash of rage that seized him.

It took twenty painful minutes to get to the hospital. He ran into the ER and up to the desk. “Detective Cruz, Metro PD.” He flashed his badge to the receptionist. “My girlfriend, Elin Svendsen, was brought in by EMS.”

“Let me check with the nurses to see where she is. Have a seat, and I’ll let you know.”

“I’m not going to have a seat. I want to see her. She wants me with her.”

“Hang on just a minute, Detective.”

Sam had taught him to dislike receptionists, but he’d never disliked one more than the woman who stood between him and Elin. He shot off a text to Elin.
I’m out here. Tell them to let me in.

He had no idea if she’d get the text or if her phone was even on.

While he paced in front of the reception desk, waiting for permission to go to Elin, he was stunned to see Avery Hill and Shelby Faircloth emerge from the treatment area.

“Hey,” he said to Hill, who seemed distracted and maybe upset about something.

“Oh, hi,” Hill said. “What’re you doing here? Did Sam get hurt again?”

“No, my girlfriend, Elin, took a hit to the face at work today.”

“Is she okay?” Shelby asked.

“I think so. I haven’t seen her yet.” In a quick glance, Freddie noted Shelby’s red, puffy eyes, the torn tights and bandaged knees. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. Took a fall on the sidewalk and messed up my knees.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Freddie said, surprised to hear that skinned knees had brought her to the ER.

“I’m going to get Shelby home,” Hill said.

“I hope you feel better,” Freddie said.

“Thanks,” Shelby said with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Something was definitely amiss.

They walked away—slowly—and disappeared through the automatic doors. Freddie pulled out his phone and dashed off a quick text to Sam.
Just saw Hill and Shelby at GW ER. She said she fell and busted up her knees. Seemed like maybe something more going on, but they didn’t say. Thought you’d want to know.

Sam wrote right back.
Thanks. How’s Elin.

Still waiting to be allowed back. About to flip out on receptionist.

That’s my boy. Go get em tiger. Let me know how she is later.

Will do.

The harried receptionist came back out. “Right this way, Detective.”

Freddie stashed the phone and followed the woman, his heart beating fast as he prepared himself to see Elin and her injuries. But all the preparation in the world couldn’t have readied him for the sight of her swollen face, the huge bruises, the cut and swollen lip. She was attached to an IV and several monitors. Blinking back tears, he rushed to her side. “Baby, I’m here,” he said as he kissed her forehead.

She came awake slowly, moaning as she tried to find a comfortable position.

“Don’t try to move.”

“Freddie...”

“Yeah, honey, it’s me. I’m right here. Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

She reached for his hand and held on tight. “S’okay. You were working.”

“What’re the doctors saying?”

“I have broken bones in my face. They want to keep me overnight. They’re waiting for a room upstairs.”

Freddie’s entire body went rigid with rage at the words
broken bones
. “Who did this to you?”

“There was a fight at the gym.”

“Did you know the guy who hit you?”

She looked up at him with those iridescent blue eyes that had slayed him from the first time he ever saw her during the O’Connor investigation. “Yeah, I know him.”

“Do you feel up to telling me what happened?”

“You’re going to be mad at me,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

Freddie brushed the white-blond hair back from her forehead. “I won’t be mad.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Baby, I love you. There’s nothing you could tell me that would change that.” Though he said what she needed to hear, he was deeply fearful of what she had to tell him. Had she been unfaithful? He could handle just about anything except for that. That... That would kill him.

She began to cry in earnest, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I thought I could handle it on my own.”

“Handle what?”

“This guy at the gym who was hassling me.”

“A guy at the gym was hassling you.” It took every bit of self-control Freddie could muster to keep from losing his shit at that news. “For how long?”

“Awhile now.”

“And you never told your boyfriend, who happens to be a cop, about this?”

“I was handling it.”

“Elin...” Freddie took her into his arms—carefully, so as not to hurt her. “Why would you try to handle something like this on your own when you don’t have to anymore?” He wanted to weep at the thought of her being so deeply troubled by something and not asking for his help. “Don’t you know you’ve got your own personal cop in your bed who would do anything for you?”

She was sobbing now, the tears leaving wet spots on her hospital gown.

Freddie took a tissue from a box on a table next to the bed and worked carefully to dry her face. “Tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out.”

“I’m afraid to.”

“Why, honey?”

“I don’t want you to go after him and get yourself in trouble. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I was afraid for you.”

“I won’t get in trouble. I promise. Now tell me.”

She let out a sigh and settled into her pillow, wincing at the small movement. “His name is Andre and he joined the gym about a month ago.”

“This has been going on for
a
month
?”

“It’s only been bad for the last week or so.”

“Bad how?”

“He keeps trying to get me to talk to him, to go out with him, to train him. I’ve told him I’m living with someone, and I’m happy and to leave me alone.”

“And he didn’t?”

“No, he... The other night when I was leaving work, he was waiting for me when I got to my car. It was the first time he really scared me. I pulled out the pepper spray you gave me and told him I’d use it if he touched me. He backed off, and I got in the car and drove away.”

“This was the night you said you couldn’t get warm after you got home, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“God, Elin, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told Glen the next day,” she said, referring to the gym manager. “They suspended his privileges at the gym.”

“And you didn’t think that would piss him off?”

“Freddie... I’m sorry. Don’t be mad with me. I was trying to handle it on my own.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad that this guy hassled you, and I had no idea you were going through something like this. How could I not know you were so upset and stressed out?”

“I didn’t want you to know. It’s not your fault.”

It bothered him greatly that she’d felt the need to keep something so huge from him, but he’d deal with that part of it later—after he heard the rest of the story.

“Anyway,” she said with another sigh, “Andre came into the gym today looking for me and Glen stopped him from coming in. Andre is a lot bigger than Glen, and I was afraid he was going to hurt him, so I tried to help him.”

Freddie had to bite his tongue to keep from asking why she’d had to be the one to protect Glen.

“It turned into a big melee with other staff and members getting involved.”

“How did you get hit?”

“I don’t think he meant to hit me...”

“Who hit you? Was it Andre?”

She gave a tiny nod that seemed to cost her. “He whirled around and connected with my face. It all happened so fast... I hit the back of my head on the desk. And then I was sort of out of it for a while. Next thing I knew the police were there, and they were arresting him.”

“You said Andre is bigger than Glen, and Glen is huge. Andre could’ve killed you with one hit. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know that now, but I really wasn’t afraid of him hurting me.”

“You pulled pepper spray on him,” Freddie reminded her, making an effort to keep his voice down. “You must’ve felt threatened to do that.”

“I wanted him to know I could and would defend myself. That was all.” She glanced up at him. “I knew you’d be mad with me.”

“I’m not mad. I’m sad that this happened to you, and that you felt you couldn’t come to me about it. That makes me really sad.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”

“Don’t be sorry. Nothing about this is your fault. You’re the victim here, and you’re going to pursue charges against this guy, you got me?”

“Yes, I will. I want him to leave me alone.”

“We’ll see about getting a restraining order too,” Freddie said, even though he was far too aware of how often restraining orders were violated.

Her eyes fluttered closed. “Tired, Freddie. So tired.”

“Get some rest.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” He’d never loved her more than he did right then. Seeing her bruised and beaten had sparked a primal need to protect her. That she’d kept such an important thing from him in order to protect him was something they’d have to talk more about later. And he’d also be having a conversation with this guy Andre as soon as he could get back to HQ.

* * *

Sam and Arnold entered the interrogation room while Terrell headed for observation. She’d suggested it might be better to keep the FBI out of the room for the moment, and he’d agreed. He was much more malleable than his superior, that was for sure. Hill would’ve demanded entry into the interrogation room, even if it made sense to take a softer approach at the outset.

Bringing the FBI acronym into an investigation changed the game. She wanted Hughes to talk to them, not clam up.

The minute they walked into the room, he surged to his feet. “I want a lawyer.” His shoulder-length brown hair had been tied back into a ponytail, and his jeans and hoodie had been switched out for an orange jumpsuit. “They fucking strip-searched me!”

The strip search tended to humble even the most obnoxious of collars. “Routine part of processing,” Sam said. “Who do you want us to call for you?”

“How the hell do I know? I’ve never needed a lawyer before.”

“Not even when you were taken to court for failure to pay child support?”

“Is that the kind of lawyer I need now?”

“Not exactly. Can you afford to pay for a lawyer or would you like us to call the public defender?”

“How much does a lawyer cost?”

“Don’t exactly know the going rate, but I suspect they aren’t cheap. All that schooling goes to their heads.”

“Fine, then call the public defender.”

“You know they’re closed today because it’s a holiday, right?”

“So what does that mean?”

“A sleepover,” Sam said, gratified to watch some of the starch go out of him as he began to realize his predicament. “Of course if you rescind your request for a lawyer, we can have our chat today and maybe get you home before bedtime.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter at all to her what he decided. “Up to you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked tentatively.

“I can’t talk to you with your request for a lawyer on the record.”

“Fine! No lawyer, for now anyway.”

“Detective Arnold, please record our conversation with Mr. Hughes.”

Arnold moved from his post at the doorway and turned on the recorder, noting the date, time and parties present.

“Mr. Hughes,” Sam said, “have you rescinded your earlier request for an attorney?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, I’ve rescinded my request for an attorney. Can we get on with it?”

“Let’s talk about Lori Phillips.”

He paled at the mention of Lori’s name. “I thought this was about outstanding child support?”

“We’ll get to that. I want to start with Lori.”

He eyed her tentatively. “What about her?”

“How do you know her?”

“We went out a couple of times. No big deal.”

“How long have you known her?”

“I don’t know. A few months maybe?”

“How did you meet her?”

“An online dating thing. I meet a lot of girls that way.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

He squirmed in his seat and fidgeted with his hands. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do know. I think you know exactly when you last saw her.”

“We hooked up yesterday. So what?”

“Tell me what happened yesterday, and don’t leave anything out.”

He looked down at the table, seemingly trying to decide what he should say. Then he looked up at her, and Sam detected the first hint of fear. All the cockiness was gone. “She hit me up with a text in the morning, telling me she was going to be in the city and wanted to get together. So I told her to stop by.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah, she did. We hung out for a couple of hours, and then she left to go do something with one of her friends for New Year’s. I was going to a party. It was all good.”

“Can you give me a list of people who were at that party who can confirm you were there?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sam slid her notebook across the table. “Give me at least three people.” While he got busy writing, she said, “What went on while she was at your house?”

“We hung out. And stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“We fucked. Is that what you want to know?”

“Yeah, it is. How many times did you fuck?”

A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead, which gave Sam a queer sense of accomplishment. “Like, you want a number?”