Fatal Flaw (29 page)

“Could I maybe come today?”

As she looked at him with big eyes and a seemingly open heart, he looped a strand of her long hair around his finger. “Yeah, you can come today.”

Chief Farnsworth was waiting for Sam when she arrived at HQ. “Lieutenant, a moment of your time please.” He gestured for her to follow him to his office.

Sam glanced at the sergeant working the reception desk, hoping he might throw her a lifeline. Instead he just chuckled and shook his head to tell her she was on her own. Fabulous. The chief walked purposefully into his office where a man in a suit waited for him.

“Lieutenant Sam Holland meet Special Agent Avery Hill.”

As Sam stared at the movie-star gorgeous FBI agent in the sharp dark blue suit, her stomach turned. “You called in the
Feds?
What the hell?”

“We have a serial killer targeting people in my city, and from what I hear from everyone other than the lieutenant in charge of my homicide detectives, the same killer is targeting the lieutenant in charge of my homicide detectives.”

Sam swallowed hard. “I just found out it’s all related this morning, sir. You couldn’t give me a
day
to figure this thing out?”

“Last I knew you were flattened by a migraine. I need to stop a killer, and I had no idea if you’d be able to work today.”

“But my team—”

“Is stumped. Agent Hill isn’t here to take over your investigation. He’s here to assist as needed.”

Sam scowled at the smugly handsome agent. “Sure he is.”

“I’m wounded, Lieutenant.”

“Sure you are.”

“As the chief said, I’m here to help in any way I can. You’re the boss.”

“See that you don’t forget that. I have work to do.” Sam headed for the door, but the chief called her back.

“How’s your father?”

“Much better from what I’m told. I’ve been the world’s worst daughter since he’s been in the hospital.”

“He wouldn’t see it that way, and you shouldn’t either. You’ve been doing exactly what he’d want you to be doing.”

Even though she was still annoyed with him for calling in the Feds, she appreciated the kind words. “Thank you, sir.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s go, Hill. Time’s wasting and I have a press conference to host.”

“We’re with you, Lieutenant,” Farnsworth said as the two men followed her to the courtyard outside the main doors of HQ where the media waited like wild animals anticipating feeding time at the zoo.

At the sight of her, the TV reporters positioned their cameras to capture the briefing.

Darren Tabor from the
Washington Star
began the feeding frenzy. “We’ve heard there was a break-in at your home, Lieutenant. What can you tell us about that?”

“I’d like to take you through it from the beginning, if I might,” Sam said and watched their faces register shock as they realized she planned to be unusually forthcoming. Stonewalling them was one of her favorite pastimes. “On the night before I returned to work after two weeks off, I was called to a double homicide at Carl’s Burger World on Massachusetts Avenue. There I found seventeen-year-old Daniel Alvarez and sixty-two-year-old Carl Olivo. Both victims were found locked inside the freezer. A deposit bag full of cash was found on the counter next to some items belonging to the victims. Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Lindsey McNamara determined the victims asphyxiated in the freezer before Mr. Alvarez’s father discovered them.”

The reporters were writing frantically. Smiling to herself, Sam continued in the same flat tone. “Upon returning to HQ the next morning, I discovered an enormous amount of mail had been sent to myself and Senator Cappuano while we were away. Among the thousands of wedding cards that wished us well, were a few from ‘an old friend’ who hoped we ‘lived long enough’ to enjoy our happiness. We immediately went through the rest of the mail we’d received and found a few other cards that indicated our old friend was anything but happy for us.”

“Can you tell us exactly what the threatening cards said?” one of the TV reporters asked.

“We’ll get you the full text of the cards after this press conference. We were then called to the Chevy Chase home of Crystal Trainer, age thirty-five. She was found dead on her back patio by her daughter Nicole, age twelve, when the daughter arrived home from school. Mrs. Trainer was well liked in her community, was an active volunteer in her children’s school and was, by all accounts, a devoted mother. Dr. McNamara determined the cause of death to be blunt force trauma, most likely caused by the single strike of a hammer or other flat-faced object.

“Our next victim was Raymond Jeffries, age seventy-three. He was found on the floor of his dining room in Mount Pleasant and had been dead for some time when officers went to his house at the request of his daughter in New York who’d been unable to reach him. Deputy Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Byron Tomlinson determined that Mr. Jeffries died from a blow to the head, possibly caused when he hit his head on the table during a fall. We’re not one hundred percent certain that Mr. Jeffries was murdered.”

“How can you not know that?” Tabor asked, his expression rife with skepticism.

“The only signs of struggle were three toppled dining room chairs. Because three chairs had been turned over, we deduced that someone else had been in the house, but again, that is supposition on our part. Like our earlier victims, Mr. Jeffries, a retired chemistry teacher at Roosevelt High School, was well regarded by family, friends and colleagues. We could find no one in his immediate circle of acquaintances who knew of any problems he had with other people.”

“Where did Mrs. Trainer go to school?” a blonde TV reporter asked.

“Roosevelt. The school has come up several times over the course of the investigation, and we’re looking into connections the various victims had to the school. The final victim, James Lynch, age forty, was found floating in his backyard swimming pool in Woodley Park. From all reports, Mr. Lynch had a lifelong fear of the water and never would’ve gone near the pool on his own.”

“If he was afraid of the water, why did he have a pool?”

“We asked his wife that question, and she said they fell in love with the house and planned to have the pool filled in at a future date.”

“What’s this got to do with the threatening mail?”

“I’m getting to that.” Sam gripped the podium and forced herself to finish the story. Baring her soul to the media went against everything she believed in, but if it saved a life and helped to crack the case, so be it. “Yesterday, we received a new card that was the first solid indication we’ve had that all of this is related.” Sam flattened the photocopied page on the podium and tried to keep her voice steady as she read the chilling message.

“That explains the lieutenant’s unusual frankness,” Darren quipped to chuckles from the others.

“Last night,” Sam said, “I returned home to find that someone had entered my house and shredded most of my clothing.”

A gasp went through the gaggle of reporters.

“Just about everything I own was ruined. As far as we can tell, nothing else in the house was disturbed.”

They fired a flurry of questions at her.

Sam held up her hands to quiet them. “I’ve told you everything we know so far. I’ll keep you posted as more information becomes available.”

Agent Hill was right on her heels as she headed back inside.

“Now you’re all caught up, Agent Hill,” Sam said, affecting an unusually sweet tone.

“So it seems,” Hill replied.

Freddie joined them as they approached the door.

“How’d you make out with Lynch’s coworkers?” she asked.

“Same story we’ve heard on all the others—he was well liked by his colleagues, well respected by his peers, even opposing counsel. He’s been involved in a few high-stakes litigations, but nothing someone would kill over.”

“I think this could go down as the most baffling case of our careers,” Sam said.

“We’ve certainly never seen less motive for murder than we have this week.”

“Which is why I’m here,” Hill said, introducing himself to Cruz who shot Sam a confused look.

She shrugged. “Take it up with the chief.”

Gonzo was waiting for them in the pit. He too stopped short at the sight of the agent.

“Gonzo, Agent Hill,” Sam muttered.

“What’s he doing here?” Gonzo asked.

“Beats me.”

“Your chief thought y’all could use some help,” he said in a honeyed Southern accent that made Sam’s hackles rise. She couldn’t stand guys who played the Southern gentleman role and then stabbed you in the back at the first opportunity.

Still eyeing Hill with suspicion, Gonzo said, “I’ve been through the financials of all our vics, and nothing unusual stands out.”

“Of course it doesn’t.” Sam smoothed her hands over the hair she’d clipped up. “Give me fifteen minutes, and then let’s gather in the conference room. We’ll start from the beginning and hopefully find some new threads to pull.”

“Sounds good, L.T.,” Gonzo said, studying her. “You feeling better today?”

“I feel beat up, like I’ve been through the wringer or something, but at least I’m able to function.”

Gonzo turned his back to the agent and lowered his voice. “Scared the crap outta me.”

“Sorry.” If there was anything she hated more than being the center of attention, she couldn’t think of what it might be. Oh wait, she hated flying more. And needles. Yeah, needles were at the very top of her list of hated things. No wait, she hated Lt. Stahl more than needles.

As if she’d conjured him, he came storming into the pit, jowls wiggling with righteous indignation. “Lieutenant, you missed a critical IAB hearing yesterday.”

“Not sure if you heard, but I was in the
hospital
during your precious hearing.”

“No doubt you manufactured this incident to get out of answering for your bad behavior.”

“Now wait a minute,” Gonzo said.

Sam stopped him with a hand to his chest. The last thing she needed was one of her most valued detectives taking an insubordination rap. “Please feel free to check with the emergency room doctors at George Washington. They’ll attest to the status of my health yesterday afternoon. Tell them to call me if they need me to sign something. Now, if you don’t mind, I have real work to do, something I know is a foreign concept to you.” She loved watching his face get all purple with rage. Making that happen was becoming her favorite pastime.

He shoved a piece of paper at her.

Since she’d rather be shot than have him touch her, she snatched it from him before he made contact.

“The hearing has been rescheduled for tomorrow at three. Be there or be suspended.”

Sam turned, dropped the paper into the closest trashcan and continued into her office, slamming the door behind her. The faint tingles of pain in her forehead forced her into her chair where she took deep breaths. No way could she afford a return engagement of the headache from hell today. With a few minutes until the meeting she had called, she dialed in to her voice mail to get her messages from yesterday and this morning.

Predictably, there were messages from Joseph Alvarez, Jed Trainer, Carl Olivo’s oldest son and Raymond Jeffries’s daughter, all looking for updates on the investigation. She wrote down their numbers with the intention of returning the calls as soon as she had something more concrete to tell them.

The next message made her blood run cold. It had come in a few minutes after she concluded her press conference and the voice was the same techno-sounding tone from the last time. “Very impressive rundown this morning, Lieutenant. It took you long enough to figure out it’s all related. Now let’s see how smart you are in figuring out who could possibly be committing these random crimes. Oh and by the way, your inventory of victims was missing one or two. Better get to work. Bye now.”

Before the recording finished, Sam was out of her seat and running for the door. “Someone get Archie down here right away.” Lt. Archelotta ran the department’s IT division and was the only fellow cop Sam had ever dallied with romantically, but that had happened years ago, after her split with Peter.

“What’ve we got, L.T.?” Gonzo asked as Cruz made the call.

“Come listen.” She replayed the message for him and then again when Cruz and Hill joined them.

“Same voice as the earlier call,” Cruz said.

“I want it traced,” Sam said, writing down the exact time the call had come through the department’s voice-mail system.

“You rang,” Archie said as he came in looking as tall, dark and handsome as always. “I had a note to call you because that text you asked us to trace led to a throw-away phone.”

“Figures. Listen to this.” After she replayed the message, Sam filled him in on what they needed and handed him the page with the time.

“I’m on it,” Archie said, flying out the door.

“So we’ve got bodies we haven’t found yet,” Sam said. “That’s just fabulous.”

Detective Arnold came to the door. “Lieutenant, your father is on line four. He says it’s urgent.”

“My dad’s in the hospital.”

Arnold shrugged. “Sounded like him to me.”

Sam picked up the phone and punched the flashing number four. “Dad?”

“Sam, you need to get over here right away.” His voice was congested and strained, but it was definitely Skip Holland. She dropped into her chair, overcome with relief at the sound of his voice.

“Dad,” she said softly. “It’s so good to hear your voice. You’ve had us so worried.”

“We can talk about all that later, baby girl. This is about the case. I saw your press conference this morning, and I think I might know who your perp is.”

“Who?”

“Come. Quickly.”

“On my way.” She put down the phone and grabbed her portable. “Cruz and Gonzales, come with me.”

“Wait a minute,” Hill said. “Where’re you going?”

“To see my dad in the hospital,” Sam said. “Is that okay with you?”

“Why’re they going with you?” he asked, gesturing to Gonzo and Cruz.

“Because they’re friends with my dad. Is
that
okay with you?”

Hill kept his hands on his hips as he eyed her with suspicion. His crisp white dress shirt stretched taut over a broad chest. In another life, Sam might’ve found him attractive—that is if he hadn’t been a Fed and if she hadn’t been married to the love of her life.