Fatal Deception (35 page)

“We’re getting closer. I should have something for you in the next day or two.”

“Good,” he said in a dull, flat tone. “I know I should be happy to hear that, but the reality is that catching the person who killed Victoria won’t bring her back. It won’t tell me what I really want to know.”

Sam didn’t have to ask him what that was. “How’s Maeve?”

“She’s great. Totally and blissfully clueless. She’s giving us something else to focus on besides the grief.”

“I’m so glad she’s safe and sound. Speaking of her safety, I need to ask about whether Victoria was particularly concerned with her own safety or Maeve’s.”

“Yes,” he said. “She was over the top when it came to safety. Maybe she always suspected someone might kill her and steal Maeve, or just steal Maeve. She was always checking the doors and windows at night. More than once, I caught her doing it in the middle of the night. I used to tease her for being OCD, but now I wonder if she didn’t have good reason to be fearful.”

“She may have.” Sam wasn’t yet willing to tip her hand on what they’d uncovered. “This really helps. Thank you.”

“Sure, whatever I can do. Maeve is up from her nap, so I need to go to her. Keep me posted?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks, Sam. I appreciate all you’re doing.”

“No problem.”

His overwhelming sadness went a long way toward ruining her good mood. While it was a kick to be closing in on a killer, at the end of the day, Derek’s wife would still be dead, and he’d still have questions that might never be answered to his satisfaction.

She was getting up to head to the conference room when her cell phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she saw Jeannie McBride’s name and took the call.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I need to see you.”

Sam’s stomach and her good mood took another nosedive. “I’m going into a meeting, and then I can meet you. My house in an hour?”

“I’ll be there.”

“If I’m late—”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“See you then.” Sam was almost certain she didn’t want to hear whatever Jeannie had to tell her. She wanted the truth, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a tiny bit afraid of the truth. Anything to do with her dad was a weak spot for her, especially since he’d been so grievously injured by a shooter who remained at large in a case that had gone colder than the Alaskan wilderness.

She didn’t want to hear that he’d acted less than heroically during the Fitzgerald investigation. She didn’t want anything to ever besmirch his sterling reputation. And she certainly didn’t want to be responsible for stirring up a hornet’s nest that would cause heartburn for him or the department.

This is a fine spot you’re in
, she thought as she went to the conference room for the meeting. The expression “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” came to mind.

“Let’s get this done, people,” she said as she walked into the room where Freddie, Hill, Gonzo, Arnold, Malone and Farnsworth waited for her along with Assistant U.S. Attorney Charity Miller. “Cruz, anything from the strip search?”

“What strip search?” Hill asked in a testy tone.

“Hang on a sec. We’ll get to that.”

Cruz held up a photo of a hairy chest with three angry-looking scratches slashing from his collarbone to his sternum and a second photo that included Jerry’s head along with his chest. The bruise on his jaw was plainly evident.

“Excellent,” Sam said, buzzing with excitement. “Gonzo, what’d you get in West Virginia?”

“Interesting info from Mrs. Eldridge. Her husband, Will, was Arnie Patterson’s childhood friend.”

“As in Arnie Patterson the presidential candidate?” Hill asked.

“The one and only,” Sam said. “We’ve established a link to him too. I’ll get to that in a minute. What else, Gonzo?”

“Denise Desposito was Eldridge’s daughter. From what the wife said, Eldridge worked for Patterson Financial Group until Denise was arrested in a Medicare scheme. After that, Will was fired, and Arnie refused to take Will’s phone calls. They never heard from him again. She says Will died of a broken heart after they lost Denise in a prison fight. Apparently, she was scuffling with another prisoner and hit her head when she fell.”

Sam’s good mood came back with a vengeance. With each thread they pulled, the net tightened around the Patterson family.

“Agent Hill, what’ve you got?”

A visibly annoyed Hill recounted his visit with Dr. Saltzman and what he’d learned about Victoria Kavanaugh’s fixation on safety and security. “I also went by Bertha Ray’s house, or what’s left of it, which wasn’t much. The fire marshal said it was definitely arson. The fire took the houses on either side of hers too.”

“You spoke with her about her son?”

“I did. I have the name of his closest friend, and I’m planning to track him down after this meeting.”

“Good work. So Cruz and I had an interesting day too. What I’m about to tell you cannot leave this room. You can’t mention it at home to your significant other or to any other member of the department or any other living human being. If you feel the need to tell someone, share it with your dog. We must keep a tight lid on this if we’re going to make a case against the people behind Victoria’s murder. Am I clear on that?”

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.

Sam began with their visit to Congressman Tornquist and took them through the entire story, ending with the arrest of Jerry Smith. When she was done, she looked around the room at one stunned face after another.

“So you’re saying,” Hill began, “that the Patterson camp planted someone in the Nelson camp years ago in anticipation of Patterson’s run for president and then killed her?”

“Had her killed,” Sam said. “Big difference. Jerry Smith is the small fish in this case. He did the dirty deed, but someone above him set up this whole thing and ordered the hit on Victoria. That’s the person—or people—I want.”

“Why kill her now?” Hill asked.

“That I don’t know yet,” Sam said. “Perhaps she clammed up on them or threatened to expose them. Who knows? We need to go through the phone records again. If I can place even one phone call from a member of the Patterson family or staff on her phone, we’ve got them nailed.”

“I’m almost certain none of the numbers matched anyone named Patterson,” Gonzo said.

“How about a Jonathan Thayer or Porter Gillespie?” Sam asked.

“Gillespie rings a bell,” Gonzo said. “Let me go get the file on that. We’ve only gotten through the letter E on investigating the names that came up from the phone dump.”

Sam nodded, and he rushed from the room. She positively buzzed with adrenaline zipping through her veins like cars on the Beltway at rush hour.

“What’s your plan with Smith, Lieutenant?” Chief Farnsworth asked from his usual post in the back of the room.

“He’s made his phone call to Christian Patterson, letting him know he needs an attorney. It’s my belief that Patterson will ignore the request, so I’m going to let Smith stew in the interrogation room—under guard—until it sets in that he’s been abandoned. Might take most of the night for him to catch a clue, seeing as how he referred to the Patterson as family.”

“You really think they’ll hang him out to dry?” Hill asked.

“I’m almost sure they will,” Sam said.

“Why would they do that when he knows as much as he does?”

“They’re counting on his loyalty to keep him quiet,” Sam said, more certain by the moment that she was right about how this would play out. “I’ll let him sit until he gets that they aren’t coming, and then I’ll try to break him. In the meantime, I’m waiting for a warrant to get Smith’s DNA, and if it hits with what we found under Victoria’s nails, at the very least we’ve got our killer. I want the big fish, though. I want Patterson and his sons, if they were behind this.”

“What if you can’t get them?” Farnsworth asked.

“Then we release everything we uncovered about Victoria and everything we’ve got on Smith to the media and let the public make their own conclusions. That ought to do enough to ruin his aspirations so we don’t end up with a murderer in the White House.”

Farnsworth nodded in agreement.

“But if he orchestrated this whole thing, I want to nail his ass to the wall,” Sam said.

“Me too,” Hill said.

The others nodded in agreement.

Gonzo returned to the room, holding up a piece of paper. “Bingo for Gillespie. Three calls to Victoria’s phone from his the week before she was killed.”

“That establishes a direct tie between the Patterson campaign and Victoria,” Sam said. The pieces were falling into place one right after the other. “Go pick him up.” Sam glanced at Charity, who nodded. “Cruz, pull up that picture of Colton Patterson so he’ll recognize him if they cross paths.”

Cruz typed on his computer and spun it around to show Gonzo the picture of Colton they’d found earlier.

“I’ll issue the warrant for Gillespie’s arrest,” Charity said.

“Bring him in the front,” Sam said. “I want the media wondering why a top aide from the Patterson campaign is in custody. Since I fully expect him to be as forthcoming as Jerry has been, we’ll let him sit and stew overnight too. Maybe after a night in the city jail, they’ll both feel talkative. Come to think of it, I want them kept in the same cell, and I want the cell monitored at all times. Video and audio.”

“I’ll set up the surveillance,” Cruz said. “Here’s the address of where he’s staying in the city.” Freddie handed the paper the campaign staffer had given them to Gonzo.

Gonzo gestured for his partner, Detective Arnold, to come with him.

“Charity?” Sam asked. “What do you think? Do we have enough to make a case?”

“With the DNA, you’ve got Smith for the murder and kidnapping,” Charity said. “But you don’t have Patterson—or his sons—yet.”

“Cruz, let’s go have a chat with our friend Mr. Smith,” Sam said.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Hill asked.

“Not at all,” Sam said. If she compartmentalized the odd personal dilemma between them, she couldn’t deny he’d been an asset on this investigation. “Tossing around the FBI acronym might help our friend Mr. Smith get how big of a shit storm of misery he’s in for.”

“You do have a way with words, Lieutenant,” Hill said, his lips quirking with amusement.

“So I’m told.”

Inside interrogation room one, Smith was pacing from one end of the small space to the other. He reminded Sam of how a caged tiger might look as he radiated rage and fury that was instantly directed at her when she stepped into the room.

“This is Special Agent Avery Hill with the FBI.”

The mention of the FBI had the desired effect, as Smith’s eyes widened with surprise. “You can’t keep me here! I haven’t done anything.”

“I can keep you here until the lawyer you requested arrives. Any idea when that might be?”

“My boss said he’d take care of sending someone over. He should be here any time now.”

“Great. We’ll bring him in as soon as he gets here. In the meantime, is there anything I can get for you? Some water? Food?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” he said, glowering at her.

“Okay, then.” Sam wondered if he’d be a little more contrite when ten or twelve hours had gone by without anything to eat or drink. “We’ll see you when the lawyer arrives. If you need to use the restroom, let Officer DuPont know, and he’ll escort you.”

“Screw you.”

“Aww,” Sam said. “I’d love to, but I’m married, and my husband is the jealous sort.”

As Jerry gave her the finger, they filed out of the room and closed the door.

“He’s still certain they’re coming,” Sam said. “He’s in for a long night. I’ve got some stuff to do elsewhere, but I’ll come back later to check on him. We’ll keep up the regular visits until he gets he’s on his own.”

“If he hadn’t killed a woman in cold blood and stolen her child from the scene, I’d almost feel a little sorry for the guy,” Freddie said. “Almost.”

“I hear ya,” Sam said. “You know what we still need is a connection between Smith and Bobby Ray. How’d they hook up?”

“I’ll work on that,” Hill said. “Bertha gave me the name of Bobby’s best friend earlier. I’ll see what he can tell me. Jerry Smith wasn’t a name she mentioned.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Sam said. “He’s from Ohio, where the Pattersons are from. He’s living here temporarily. He and Bobby will have met at a local bar or a gym or something like that. Find out where Bobby hung out and worked out. I bet that’ll lead to Smith.”

“I’m on it,” Hill said.

“Thanks. I’m going to split for a bit. Cruz, why don’t you call it a day? If I need you, I’ll give you a call.”

“Sounds good. See you in the morning, if not before.”

“Good work today, Detective.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Back at you.”

To Hill, she said, “Let me know if you find a connection between Smith and Ray.”

“I will. Have a good night.”

“You too.” Sam felt his eyes on her as she gathered her belongings and headed out of the pit, sending a text to Jeannie as she walked. “On my way home.”

“See you in a few, Jeannie responded.”

In the lobby, Sam ran into Captain Malone. “Got the warrant for the DNA,” he said. “I let Dr. McNamara know, and she’s going to take the swab now.”

“Good,” Sam said, “that’ll give Jerry something else to worry about while he waits for the lawyer who isn’t coming.”

“No luck on the gym warrant, unfortunately. The judge said we hadn’t given her good enough reason to issue it.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said. “We probably won’t need it after all. I’m going to head home for a bit, but I’ll be back later to check on Jerry. I don’t think he’s going to realize until the morning that they aren’t sending anyone.”

“Probably not. I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

“Great job as always, Lieutenant,” he called after her.

Sam stopped and turned to him. “As much as it pains me to admit it, Hill has been a resource on this case. His superiors ought to be made aware of the fact that he did very good work here.”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

Pushing through the media crowd gathered outside the main door to HQ, Sam almost hoped Smith refused to roll on the Patterson family. She’d love nothing more than to have the opportunity to stand before the media and single-handedly ruin years of planning and scheming—along with Arnie’s campaign—through innuendo alone. She’d do it for Victoria. Even though she’d been in on the scheme to at least some extent, no one deserved to die the way she did.