Fatal Flaw (16 page)

“What’d you mean?”

“Cruz is shacking up too.”

“With Elin?”

“So he says.”

“Wow. Is that a good idea?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Very interesting.”

“By the way, any movement on figuring out who’s pissed about the wedding?”

“He hasn’t talked to you yet?”

“Who?” Sam asked, confused.

Looking annoyed Gonzo went to the door. “Arnold! Get in here.”

Gonzo’s partner came running from the pit. “What’s up?”

“You were supposed to tell her something.”

“Oh. Yeah. Um, well, the whole wedding invitation thing with Stahl is probably my fault.”

“How so?” Sam asked the young detective.

“Well, the day of your wedding, I was, um, taking a leak in the men’s room along with another officer, and I made a crack about getting stuck working so everyone else could go to your wedding. Then a toilet flushed and Stahl came out with this creepy smile on his face. My stomach sank, because I knew he’d probably find a way to use that against you. I’m really sorry, Lieutenant.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to invite you.”

“Oh, please, it’s fine. I know you couldn’t have everyone, and I didn’t mind working that day at all. Really. I was totally kidding around.”

“Thanks for clearing that up.”

Arnold scurried out the door.

“Mystery solved,” Sam said to Gonzo. “Thanks for getting to the bottom of it.”

“No problem. I about smacked him upside the head when I realized what he’d done.” He walked over to pick up the bag full of cards. “Better get to work.”

“Thanks again for dealing with the cards.”

“You owe me one—a big one.”

“Put it on my tab.”

Darren Taber from the
Washington Star
was waiting for Sam when she emerged from HQ on her way to Chevy Chase.

“Not now, Darren.”

“I just need a minute, Sam.”

Since he’d done her a favor or two in the past, she slowed to a normal pace as she headed with Freddie to the parking lot. “What?”

“Is there any truth to the rumor that you’ve received threatening mail?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Answer the question.”

“Off the record?”

“Aw, come on, Sam.”

“Off the record or no deal.”

“Fine.” He jammed the reporter’s notebook into his back pocket and held up his hands.

“We received a few strange messages in some wedding cards that were sent here and to Nick’s office while we were away.”

“Define
strange.”

“We’re looking into it. That’s all I’m saying. Now tell me how you heard about it.”

“Phone call to the paper’s tip line.”

At that Sam stopped walking and turned to face him. “Explain.”

“We got a call that you’ve received threatening mail, and the caller was wondering why they hadn’t seen any mention of it in the media.”

“Is that right? So our pen pal is looking for some publicity. Was the caller a man or woman?”

“We couldn’t tell. I listened to it four times, and I still wasn’t sure.”

“Did you make me a copy?”

“Sam, you insult me.” He withdrew a thumb drive from his pocket and handed it to her.

She took it from him before he could change his mind. “I hate being indebted to you.”

“I know,” he said with a big grin.

“What’s this going to cost me?” Sam asked.

“What’ve you got on the housewife murder in Chevy Chase?”

“Not a damned thing yet.”

“When you do, how about an exclusive for your favorite reporter?”

“I’ll see what I can do. Now, we’ve got to get to work.”

Darren stepped aside to let them pass.

“Hey, Darren?” Sam called over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“He’s not as bad as some of them,” Freddie said when they were out of earshot from Darren.

“True.” Sam would never forget that Darren had tipped them off that one of the rags was going to run a story about her near-abortion years ago. Thanks to the tip, they’d been able to get ahead of the rag with the truth—that she’d actually suffered a miscarriage.

When they were in the car, Freddie pulled his laptop out of his bag and plugged in the thumb drive. They listened to the recording five times, and neither of them could place the voice as someone they knew. Nor could they tell if it was a man or woman. As Darren had indicated, the caller was clearly looking for some publicity about the letters.

“Seriously narcissistic,” Sam said.

“No kidding.”

On the way to Chevy Chase, Sam tried to come up with a tactful way to broach the subject of Freddie’s plans to move in with Elin. “Are you sure you’re ready to shack up with Elin?” Okay, so tact wasn’t her thing. “You’ve only known her a couple of months.”

“You got married after a three-month relationship.”

He had her there. “We’re older,” Sam said. “And more experienced.” That sounded lame, even to her. Apparently, he thought so too because he snorted.

“I’m sorry you don’t approve, but I’d appreciate you dropping it. I’m through with doing what everyone else wants me to do. It’s my life, and I’m going to live it the way I see fit.”

Sam glanced over at him, wondering where her sweet, accommodating partner had gone. Seeing his mother with his father had clearly contributed to this new hard edge. “Did you tell Elin about seeing your mom with your dad?”

“Nah. It’s got nothing to do with what happened with her.”

“Except you weren’t even thinking about shacking up until yesterday.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Whatever.”

“I know you think you’re looking out for me and all that, but let it go, okay? I’m doing what I want to do, and that’s the end of it.”

“I still say you need to talk to your mother.”

“And I will. When I’m good and ready, and not one second before.”

“It’s not fair for you to make her worry.”

“I sent her a text this morning to let her know I’m busy, and I’ll call her when I can.”

That was something, anyway. “Good.”

“Now, can we drop it?”

“Whatever you want.”

They passed the rest of the ride in unusual and uncomfortable silence. As they’d requested, Jed Trainer was waiting for them outside the house. He was leaning against his silver sedan staring at the house when they pulled up. Crime scene detectives had finished their work, but the yard was still roped off with yellow police tape.

As Sam and Freddie approached him, Trainer stood up straight. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink, and yesterday’s polished exterior had been replaced by an old T-shirt and jeans. His face was unshaven and his hair stood on end. Judging by his appearance he was taking the death of his wife hard.

“Thank you for meeting us,” Sam said.

“Anything it takes to find out who did this to Crystal.”

“How are the kids doing?” Freddie asked. The question was one she expected from old Freddie, so it was a relief to hear him ask it.

“Horrible. They were up crying all night. It’s a nightmare.”

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam said. She always felt awkward speaking to the family members of murder victims. Nothing she could say would ever be enough. “Do you have tools in the house?”

He seemed surprised by the question. “The usual stuff.”

“Can you show us?”

“Sure,” he said, seeming confused. “Right this way.”

He led them to a basement work area with a pegboard boasting a variety of screwdrivers, wrenches and pliers. A hammer was held up by two hooks, one on either side of the handle.

Sam nodded to Freddie, who pulled on latex gloves and put the hammer into an evidence bag. “Take the sledgehammer too,” she said.

“I don’t understand,” Jed said. “Why are you taking them?”

“The medical examiner has determined that your wife died of a single hit to the back of the head, administered by a flat-surfaced instrument, such as a hammer. We’ll be asking the lab to determine whether either of these hammers were used in the attack.”

He slumped against the bench. “Someone smacked her in the back of the head with a hammer.
Why?
”

“That’s what we’d like to know. While we’re here, could you take another look to make sure none of the valuables are missing? Cash, jewelry, silver if you have it. That kind of stuff.”

“I did that yesterday with the crime scene detectives, but I’ll look again.”

“We’d appreciate that.”

They accompanied him through the house as he investigated Mrs. Trainer’s jewelry box where he pointed to her wedding rings. “Would it be possible,” he said, his voice catching, “to have her buried with her wedding ring? I’d like to save her engagement ring for my son to give his wife someday.”

“Go ahead and take it,” Sam said, touched by his overwhelming grief. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have screwed up a marriage so royally and be on the road to fixing the damage only to lose a spouse to murder. As a newlywed, the idea of such a staggering loss sent a shiver down her spine.

“Are you all right?” Freddie asked her as they followed Jed to the office downstairs.

“I’m fine.”

When Jed had confirmed that nothing of any value had been taken, they let him go back to his kids, whom he’d left with his parents. They asked him to stay local and to keep them apprised of the funeral plans.

“I feel so bad for them,” Freddie said, sounding more like the Freddie Sam knew so well.

“I do too.”

“Those poor kids will never be the same.”

“No kidding.”

Their next stop was Alice Deal Middle School where the grief-stricken principal, Mrs. Nesbitt, confirmed that Crystal Trainer had been a tireless volunteer and a well-loved member of the school community.

“Did she have issues with anyone that you know of?” Sam asked.

“She was very well liked by the other parents and the faculty. We all appreciated how much she did to raise extra money for the school. It was her idea that each classroom sponsor a theme basket to raffle off during our winter festival. That fund-raiser brought in more revenue than anything we’ve ever done. I can’t imagine what we’ll do without her.”

“Is it possible,” Freddie said, “that another parent was put out by Mrs. Trainer’s success as a volunteer?”

Mrs. Nesbitt thought about that for a moment. “I can’t think of anyone who’d be jealous. We’re all working toward the same goal of making sure the kids have what they need, especially in the last few years during the economic downturn. A lot of our families were adversely affected, and volunteers like Mrs. Trainer were indispensable to us.”

Sam left her card with Mrs. Nesbitt in case she thought of anyone who might’ve had a problem with the oh-so-perfect Crystal Trainer.

“Do you know anyone,” Sam asked Freddie on the way back to the car, “who’s as universally well liked as this woman was?”

“Other than yourself, of course.” He smirked and drew a laugh from Sam. “I’d have to say only my mother would qualify. I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t adore her.”

“Except for you at the moment.”

That made him smile, as she’d hoped it would. “What’s next?”

“I want to talk to Donna Kasperian,” Sam said. “Jed listed her as Crystal’s best friend.”

They drove to the address that was several blocks from the Trainers’ home. A number of cars were parked in the Kasperians’ driveway. An older woman was approaching the door carrying a covered plate when Sam and Freddie pulled up to the curb.

“Ugh,” Sam said. “Grief central. I hate this.”

“I do too. Let’s get it over with.”

When a man answered the door, they flashed their badges.

“Mr. Kasperian?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Lieutenant Holland. This is my partner, Detective Cruz. We’d like to have a word with Mrs. Kasperian.”

“She’s not well at the moment. Would it be possible to do this another time?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, “but this is a murder investigation. We really need to speak to her.”

“Come in.” He stepped aside to admit them and showed them into a nicely furnished living room. “I’ll get her.”

A low murmur of voices from another room was the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. The man who’d admitted them returned with his arm around a woman who was clearly relying on him to hold her up. She had short blond hair and green eyes that were red from crying.

“Mrs. Kasperian,” Sam said, “I’m Lieutenant Holland—”

“I know who you are. Crystal and I watched the coverage of your wedding together.”

“Oh, I, um, thank you. This is my partner, Detective Cruz. We’re sorry to intrude during this difficult time.”

“Who could’ve done this?” Donna asked, her eyes swimming with tears.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Could we sit for a moment?”

“Yes, of course.” She and her husband took one sofa while Sam and Freddie perched on the other.

“When was the last time you spoke with Mrs. Trainer?”

“Yesterday morning. It was her day ‘off’ with no outside commitments. She had a hair appointment and then she was going to yoga. We’d talked about taking a walk after dinner, but…”

“And you’d been friends for some time?”

“Since the girls were in kindergarten. Our Melanie is in Nicole’s class. We volunteered together. Our families became friends. It’s just so hard to believe.”

“Can you think of anyone who might’ve wished to harm her?”

“No! She didn’t have an enemy in the world!”

“Did she ever mention problems with people from before you knew her?”

Donna shook her head. “Never.”

“Would she have told you? If something had happened in the past?”

“In more than ten years of friendship, there was no subject we didn’t cover.” She tried but failed to stifle a sob, and her husband patted her knee with his free hand. “She was the best friend everyone wished they had.”

“You were aware then of the problems in her marriage?”

Donna seemed to sag a bit, and her husband scowled. “We were so shocked when we heard about Jed’s affair,” she said. “Even all this time later, we still can’t believe it. They had a marriage others envied. You know the type—still affectionate with each other even after a decade of marriage. It was a total shock to everyone who knew them.”

“They were working to reconcile?”

“They’d been going to counseling for quite some time.”

“How was that going?”

“Depends on what day it was. On one day she’d say they were getting back together and then on the next she would wonder how she could ever trust him again. It was a roller-coaster ride.”

“Did he seem genuinely committed to putting the marriage back on track?”

“Yes,” Donna said softly. “He was extremely contrite and willing to do whatever she asked of him. In fact, just the other day, I told her it might be time to give him a break or cut him loose. It was sucking the life out of her.”

“He knew he’d screwed up,” Mr. Kasperian interjected. “He was determined to do whatever it took to fix it.”

“Was there any chance she’d told him their marriage was over?”

The couple exchanged glances. “If she did,” Donna said, “she didn’t tell me she planned to do that, and she would have. We would’ve talked about it first.”

Sam stood, and Freddie followed her lead. “Thank you for your time. We really appreciate you speaking with us.”

“Find the person who did this to her. Please.”

“We’re doing our best.” When they were outside, Sam turned to Freddie. “We need to talk to their marriage counselor.”

“You read my mind, Lieutenant.”

The offices of Dr. Taylor Kingsley were located in a brick building on Connecticut Avenue. After asking Jed Trainer to call ahead and give consent for her to speak with them, Sam and Freddie caught her between patients.

Tall with shoulder-length brown hair and hazel eyes, the doctor stood to greet them with handshakes.