Fatal Flaw (23 page)

“You should go home.”

“Too much to do. We’re looking at Trainer’s girlfriends today. How much you want to bet that one of his chicks got pissed that he went back to his wife and took her out?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Gonzo said. “Give me the list. I’ll dig in a bit while you take thirty to see if those pills work.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not. Your face is so white it’s see-through.” He held out his hand. “The list?”

Sam reluctantly handed it over to him. “Don’t tell anyone what I’m doing in here.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He went out and closed the door behind him.

Sam heard him telling someone the lieutenant was not to be disturbed for the next thirty minutes because she was in a meeting. She smiled to herself as she tipped her head back, seeking relief from the blinding pain. It was good to have friends who looked out for her, even if being sick at work and taking a nap went against everything she believed in. But she felt so shitty at the moment, she doubted she could even get herself home.

As she closed her eyes, she told herself she would rest for a minute or two. Then she’d get back to work.

Will Tyrone found Cameron Fitzgerald working in a warehouse outside of Cincinnati. Taking this trip alone had turned Will into a nervous wreck. In his two years as a detective, he’d never once interviewed a suspect by himself. Sure, maybe his more experienced partner had spoiled him by holding his hand a bit, but he hadn’t objected. Will swallowed hard as he watched the blond man hoist boxes. The muscles bulged on Fitzgerald’s tattooed arms as he worked.

What if he screwed this up somehow and the lieutenant got pissed? He had so much respect for her. She was one bad-assed chick, but he’d rather swallow his own tongue than express such a thought to her. The idea of somehow messing up a case that had meant so much to her father was unimaginable to him.

“So don’t screw it up,” he muttered to himself, grateful for the noise in the warehouse.

“What’s he done now?” asked the supervisor who’d led Will onto the floor.

“Nothing. I just need to speak with him for a few minutes.”

The supervisor checked his watch. “He’s due for a break. Tell him he can take five.”

Will nodded and headed over to Cameron Fitzgerald. Whereas Caleb had been smooth and refined, Cameron was all hard edges. He had long sideburns and rough stubble on his jaw.

“Mr. Fitzgerald?” Will said.

“Yep,” he said without so much as a glance at Will.

“I’m Detective Will Tyrone, Metropolitan Police Department in Washington, D.C.”

Cameron briefly shifted his eyes to rest on Will before he returned his attention to the boxes he was moving. “What’d you want?”

“We’ve reopened your brother’s case, and I need a few minutes of your time.”

A box slipped through Cameron’s hands, startling both men when it crashed to the floor.

Cameron cast a nervous glance at his supervisor.

“Take it easy, Fitzgerald!” the guy yelled across the floor.

Cameron signaled for someone to take his place and pulled off his work gloves. “Come with me,” he snapped at Will as he wiped sweat from his brow.

He led Will into a dingy break room, bought a bottle of water from the vending machine and downed the whole thing before he turned to Will. “Why now?”

Will shrugged. “My lieutenant asked me to take a fresh look. That’s what I’m doing.”

“You’ve read all the reports. You’ve seen my statement. There’s nothing I can tell you that I haven’t already told ten other cops.”

Here goes nothing, Will thought. “Your brother Caleb mentioned you had gotten in trouble earlier in the day Tyler went missing. He’d told your parents you’d had your girlfriend in your bedroom when they weren’t home.”

Cameron’s already hard eyes got even harder. “Caleb said that, did he?”

“We talked to him yesterday and asked him what he remembered about that day.”

Cameron put his hands on his hips. “And how is my dear brother? Busy and successful as always?”

“You don’t talk to him?”

“Only on the first Sunday of the month when he calls like clockwork. Sometimes I take the call, other times I don’t. Depends on my mood.”

“Were you angry with Tyler for telling on you to your parents?”

“Of course I was. He was a constant pain in my ass, always ratting me out for one thing or another.”

“And you were the last person to see him alive?”

“I guess I was.” He ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw.

“What do you remember from that night?”

Cameron eyed him warily. “I really gotta go through this again?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

He told the same story Caleb had shared about the game of cops and robbers and how Tyler had gone missing while they were running away from Caleb, the cop. “I looked back over my shoulder, and he was gone. So I backtracked, calling for him. I figured he was hiding from me, which would’ve been just like him. That kid loved to push my buttons.”

“Did that bother you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Like when he told your parents about your girlfriend being in your bedroom?”

“That pissed me off,” he said, his face tightening with anger. Will decided in that moment he wouldn’t want to cross Cameron Fitzgerald without his weapon handy.

“What was your girlfriend’s name?”

The question seemed to startle Cameron. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Maybe nothing.” Will’s heart was beating so rapidly he wondered how he managed to breathe normally. “I’d still like to know her name.”

“Lauren Holbrooke.”

“Spell the last name, please.”

Cameron did so through gritted teeth. “I don’t get why you have to drag her into this.”

Will couldn’t believe it’d taken this long to drag her into it. “You went into the military just two days after your brother went missing.”

“So?”

“Why so quick?”

“It’d been in the works before my brother disappeared. My parents and I didn’t see any reason to postpone it.”

“Your brother had been kidnapped and was missing, yet you decided to leave your family at that difficult time.”

Cameron’s stare made Will’s blood run cold. The other man moved toward the door. “If you’re insinuating I killed my brother, prove it. Until you can, leave me and my family alone. My parents have been through enough.” Cameron stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Will didn’t know if they’d ever be able to prove it, but he felt like he’d just looked directly into the eyes of a killer.

Gonzo stared at the card on his desk, wishing he hadn’t been so diligent about staying on top of the mail flooding in for the lieutenant and her new husband. If they’d had any doubt about whether someone was playing a joke or wanting to cause serious harm, they didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“Dear Sam” the sicko had written. “What do I have to do to get your attention? I’ve already started killing all the people who’ve pissed me off over the years, but no one seems to care, even the police officers like you who are paid to care. I suppose I’ll have to strike a little closer to home to get your attention. In the meantime, I want to see you out telling the media all about the spate of murders that have broken out in your fair city. If I don’t see you out there at the microphone today, someone else will have to die. Let’s hope it’s not someone you love this time. Signed, An Old Friend.”

Gonzo was on his feet and heading for Sam’s office before he reached the last line. “Lieutenant,” he said when he opened the door. “We’ve got a problem.” He took one look at her and realized he had an even bigger problem. “Someone call for paramedics! Hurry!”

Her face was devoid of all color, her lips were bluish and when he pressed his hand to her forehead, she was cold and clammy. His partner rushed through the door.

“What’s wrong with her?” Arnold asked.

“I don’t know,” Gonzo said. “Sam, wake up. Sam?” He checked her pulse and found it rapid and irregular. “Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long?”

“They’re on their way,” Arnold said, staring at their boss.

“Shh,” Sam finally said. “Bad headache. Need quiet.”

“You’re okay, Sam. Help is on the way.” He looked over his shoulder. “Keep everyone out of here and let Malone know.”

Arnold scurried out of the office, and Gonzo returned his attention to her. He eyed her cell phone on her desk and wondered if he should call Nick.

She clutched his arm. “Don’t.” Her voice was so faint it came out as a whisper. “Don’t let anyone call him. Scotty’s big day.”

“Whatever you want, Sam.” The greenish tint to her skin was scaring the hell out of him. “Just hang in there.”

“Out of the way, Detective,” the lead paramedic said as she rushed into the office.

Gonzo stood back to watch them quickly assess Sam’s condition and load her onto a gurney.

“We’re taking her to GW,” the paramedic said to Gonzo on the way out.

They passed Captain Malone as he came running into the pit. “What the hell happened?” he asked Gonzo.

“She said she had a bad headache, so I suggested she take a break.” Gonzo realized his hands were shaking so he jammed them into his pockets. “When I went back in a few minutes later, she was totally out of it. They’re taking her to GW.”

Malone spun around to follow the paramedics. “I’ll go with her.”

“Wait! Sir. Before you go, she got another card.” Gonzo grabbed the bagged card off Sam’s desk and thrust it at the captain.

“This is a whole new ballgame,” the captain growled as he read it. “We need people on every member of the lieutenant’s immediate family. Get that set up right away.” He glanced at Gonzo. “You’ll need to talk to your fiancée about the senator’s schedule and work out security arrangements. Talk to Deputy Chief Conklin. He’s already been in touch with the Capitol Police.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll take care of it.” Gonzo wished his hands would quit shaking. “Will you let me know the minute you hear anything about Sam?”

Malone answered with a curt nod and bolted from the pit.

“Holy shit,” Arnold muttered when he and Gonzo were left alone in the pit. “She’s going to be okay, right? There can’t be anything seriously wrong with the lieutenant.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Gonzo said with more confidence than he felt. “But until we know more, we’ve got work to do.”

Freddie woke ahead of the alarm he’d set for 8:00 a.m. Since Elin was still sleeping he stared at the ceiling and rehashed the odd pre-dawn conversation with his mother. His father wanted to see him. That was the only part Freddie could seem to focus on as the words ran through his mind like a refrain from a favorite song.

What would it be like, Freddie wondered, to come face-to-face with the man who’d left them without a word more than twenty years ago? What would it be like to have a chance to talk to him, to hear his voice, to see his face up close? If he’d seen the man somewhere other than with his mother would he have recognized him as the father he’d once loved with his whole heart?

“What’re you thinking about?” Elin asked, her voice husky with sleep.

“Nothing,” he said, turning to her.

“Did you know,” she said, reaching out to run a finger over the furrow of his brow, “that when you’re not telling the full truth, you get a line right here.”

“I do?” Freddie asked, startled by the revelation.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, that’s not fair. How do I know when you’re not telling the truth?”

She flashed a saucy smile that made his blood race. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”

He slid an arm around her to bring her closer to him, but she resisted.

“Don’t try to change the subject by distracting me.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

She once again traced the line between his brows as she nodded. “Tell me.”

So he did. He told her about the father who had suddenly reappeared in his life twenty years after checking out. He told her his father wanted to see him and that he’d said no.

“That’s a mistake,” she said without hesitation.

“How can you say that? He left us without—”

Elin pressed her fingers to his lips. “I’d give everything I have, everything I’ll ever have, for one more day with my dad. Just one day.”

Freddie knew her father had died of a heart attack when she was twelve and that a part of her had never recovered from the shock of the sudden loss.

“It’s not the same thing,” he said.

“Isn’t it? The only difference is your father’s ailment didn’t kill him.”

God, when she put it like that… “I don’t know if I could do it. What would I say?”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just listen.” She snuggled into his embrace, her head on his chest and her arm around his waist.

Normally when she was close to him like this, he had one thing on his mind. This time, however, he was comforted by her closeness and the simple wisdom of what she’d said. “You really think I should see him?”

“I really do. What if something happens and you never get the chance to talk to him? Won’t you always wonder what he would’ve said? How it would’ve changed things?”

“That’s sort of what I’m afraid of—that it’ll change things.”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“What if I let him back in and he does the same thing again?”

Elin was quiet for a long moment as she pondered that. “I have to think you’d be better equipped to deal with it as a thirty-year-old man than you were as a ten-year-old boy.”

He wasn’t at all sure that was true.

She tipped her head up to kiss him. “Think about it. You don’t have to do anything today. See how you feel about it in a couple of days. Maybe once the shock of him wanting to see you wears off a bit, it won’t seem so overwhelming.”

In a move he considered rather smooth, Freddie turned so he was on top of her, looking down at her brilliant blue eyes. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve always been wise. You’re just too busy thinking you’re wiser to listen to me.”

Shocked by the statement, he stared at her. “That is not true.”

“Oh, yes, it is,” she said, giggling. “Mr. Wise Detective, who knows everything about everything.”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

She ran her hands down his back to cup his ass. Her smile was nothing short of victorious when she realized she’d turned him to putty under her hands. “Don’t forget you love me.”

He planted a kiss on her pouty lips. “As if I could ever forget that.” Just as he was about to show her how much he loved her, his phone rang. “Ugh. She said I could have until nine,” he muttered as he reached for the phone on the bedside table.

Elin continued to knead his rear end until he was so hard he could pound nails.

A quick glance at the caller ID showed Gonzo’s number. “What?” Freddie growled.

“Something’s wrong with Sam.”