Fatal Consequences Read online

  “I’ll see the rest of you in the morning,” Sam said.

  As they filed out of the conference room, Gonzo gestured for Cruz to follow him down the hallway.

  “What’s up, man?” Cruz asked when they were alone.

  “This thing with Gibson…”

  Cruz groaned. “I can’t deal. We totally screwed up, and if he gets sprung…”

  “I hear ya. It’s eating me up too.”

  “I keep going over it and over it in my mind. Why didn’t we wait for the warrant?”

  “Because we knew we had him, and we wanted to nail that son of a bitch for what he did to Sam.”

  “Yeah,” Cruz said, regretfully. “Wish we had it to do over.”

  “Well, we don’t, but the way I see it, we owe her one.”

  “No kidding.”

  “So let’s get serious about finding the former tenant at Reese’s house. No doubt the people who lived there before Reese know something about her father’s shooting. I don’t care what we have to do…”

  “I’m with you. Whatever it takes.”

  “Let me think about the next step, and I’ll get back with you.”

  “I’ll give it some thought too.”

  “Good.”

  “Everything okay with you?” Freddie asked. “You’ve seemed preoccupied today.”

  “Yeah,” Gonzo said, startled by the question. Despite his best efforts, he was apparently wearing his personal turmoil for everyone to see. “Everything’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Later.”

  After Cruz walked away, Gonzo reached for his cell phone to call Christina. “Can you break free yet?” he asked when she answered.

  “Just about. Why? What’s up?”

  “Bad day. I need you.”

  No doubt surprised by his stark admission, Christina said, “I’m here. What can I do?”

  “Meet me at my place in an hour?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Overwhelmed by the rush of emotion, Gonzo closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. “Same here.”

  As he ended the call, he took a moment to marvel at the recent changes in his life. He couldn’t recall ever saying the words “I need you” to a woman before nor had he imagined rearranging his life for a baby he hadn’t even known about three days ago. But the truth was, he did need Christina more than he’d ever needed anyone, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to gain custody of his son.

  With that in mind, he made another phone call, to the friend who’d introduced him to Lori.

  “Dude,” his buddy Mark said when he answered. “Long time, no see.”

  “Too long. How are you?”

  “Hanging in there. You?”

  “I’ve got a little problem I was hoping you could help me with.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Remember Lori Phillips?”

  “Sure. What about her?”

  “You know the baby she had recently?”

  “I heard a rumor about that. What about it?”

  “She says the kid is mine.”

  “Holy shit! For real?”

  “I saw him yesterday. Looks like me. He’s got my chin dimple.”

  “Wow. I didn’t think you guys were all that involved.”

  “We weren’t. Really. But apparently, it doesn’t take much.”

  Mark released a nervous laugh. “So I hear.”

  “The thing is, I’m not digging the scene where they’re living. Do you know anything about that guy Rex she’s seeing?”

  Mark released a low whistle. “Rex Connolly?”

  Bingo. Gonzo made a note of the name. “I don’t know his last name.”

  “Lots of tats? Rough-looking dude?”

  “That’s the guy. What’s his story?”

  “I’m not really sure, but Sara said Lori is pretty serious with him.” Mark’s sister Sara was a close friend of Lori’s. “I figured the kid was his.”

  “So they’ve been together a while then?”

  “About a year maybe. What about the kid? What’re you going to do?”

  “I’m considering my options,” Gonzo said, purposely evasive. He’d played in a softball league with Mark years ago and considered him a friend, but he didn’t want it to get back to Lori that he planned to seek custody. “Do me a favor and don’t mention to Sara or Lori that you talked to me?”

  “No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will.” He had what he needed. “Thanks.”

  Gonzo ended the call and returned to the detectives’ pit just as Sam was leaving her office.

  “You’re still here?” she asked.

  Gonzo glanced at the crowded pit where shift change was still under way. “Would you mind if I borrowed your office for a minute?”

  She studied him for a long moment. “Sure. Lock up when you’re done.”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  Gonzo was relieved when she left without asking any questions. He went into her office and shut the door. While he waited for her computer to boot up, he thought about Andy telling him to get anything they could use in court to prove the baby would be better off with him than with his mother. In the meantime, Andy had filed the motion to demand a DNA test.

  Gonzo typed in Rex’s name and was surprised to find five Rex Connollys in the system. He scanned through the mug shots, half hoping he’d find one he recognized and half hoping he wouldn’t. The fifth photo was his guy. As his heart thudded, Gonzo clicked on the link to his rap sheet.

  Multiple arrests on drug charges—possession and dealing—a breaking and entering charge that was later dropped and a sealed juvenile record. Feeling sick and riddled with anxiety, Gonzo printed the sheet. As long as he was committing acts that could get him fired, he also ran Lori’s name through the system and was shocked to find a recent drug charge on her sheet too. The possession charge had been adjudicated six months prior, and she’d been placed on five years’ probation.

  “Bull’s-eye,” he whispered as he printed both records.

  As his final act of things that could get him fired, Gonzo faxed the information to Andy’s office and stood watch over the fax machine until all seven pages had transmitted. He collected them and turned to leave.

  “Working late, Detective?” Lt. Stahl asked.

  Gonzo almost jumped out of his skin. “Just finishing some paperwork, Lieutenant.”

  “You’re awfully jumpy.”

  “Am I?” Gonzo just wanted to get the hell out of there, and there was no one he cared to speak with less than the unpleasant man who used to be his boss. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to sneak up on me.”

  “I didn’t sneak up on you,” Stahl huffed, his multiple chins jiggling with indignation.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Lieutenant?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then I’ll be on my way,” Gonzo said. Feeling Stahl’s beady-eyed stare burning a hole in his back, Gonzo tucked the rap sheets under his arm, grabbed his coat and headed out while the getting was still good. Not until he was in his SUV and headed for home, did he manage to take a deep breath. Right before he pulled up to his building, he called Sam.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Just thought you should know that Stahl was skulking around the pit tonight.”

  “What was he after?”

  “Wouldn’t say, but as usual, he was acting weird. Just thought I should mention it.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” she muttered. “I wish he would stay in the rat squad where he belongs.” Stahl had been transferred to the department’s internal affairs division after Sam had been given his old command.

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  “I’m betting he had something to do with this situation with Gibson.”

  “You really think
so?” Gonzo asked.

  “Wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “He’s freaking evil. Why can’t they get rid of him?”

  “I’m sure they’re trying. Did you get anywhere with your situation?”

  “I got what I needed.”

  “Good.”

  “Thanks for the help.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Gonzo ended the call and rested his head on the steering wheel, forcing himself to breathe through the anxiety that cycled through him. His entire life was spinning out of control, and he felt powerless to stop or control it. A tap on his window interrupted his thoughts. Gonzo looked up to find Christina waiting for him.

  He reached for his keys and got out of the car.

  She held out her hand to him.

  Gonzo linked his fingers with hers, and just like that, his world stopped spinning. He stared at her, dazzled and breathless. “I love you,” he whispered.

  She gasped. “You…you…”

  He realized he was doing this badly. Pocketing his keys, he raised his hands, cupped her face and brushed his lips gently over hers. “I love you.”

  Tears flooded her blue eyes. “You do?”

  Nodding, he kissed her again. “Surprised the hell out of me too.”

  Christina laughed through her tears and leaned into his embrace as he escorted her into his town house. He had no idea if he’d left the place a mess, but he suspected she wouldn’t care.

  Inside, she turned to him and gripped his hands. Looking up at him with a shy smile gracing her gorgeous mouth, she said, “I love you too.”

  It was exactly what he needed to hear and exactly what he’d never expected to find. Gonzo leaned his forehead against hers.

  “What happened today?” she asked.

  He eased the coat from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “Later,” he said, kissing her with more intent. “I’ll tell you later.”

  She looped her arms around his neck and fell into the kiss.

  Chapter 13

  In need of a top-notch wedding planner, Nick went to the one source he could always count on—his adopted mother, Laine O’Connor.

  “Senator!” she said when she answered the phone. “What a lovely, lovely surprise.”

  Nick smiled at the effusive greeting. From the first time John brought him home from Harvard freshman year, Laine and her husband, Graham, had made Nick a part of their family. After John’s death, they had gone out of their way to let Nick know that nothing would change—he would always be an honorary O’Connor.

  “How are you, honey?” she asked.

  “I’m good. How about you?”

  “Oh, you know,” she said with a sigh. “Good days. Bad days.”

  The pain he heard in her voice made Nick ache for her, for all of them. “I miss him. Sometimes I forget he’s gone, and then it all comes rushing back…”

  “He’d be so proud of you, Nick. I saw the VCU rally on the news. The people of the Old Dominion love you!”

  “I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve such an outpouring.”

  “You stepped in when they needed you.” Her voice caught. “You stepped in when we needed you.”

  “Well now I need you,” he said, steering the conversation in a lighter direction before his emotions got the better of him. He still found it difficult to talk about his best friend’s violent death, and he knew she felt the same.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Sam and I are looking for a wedding planner. Someone who knows Washington, knows how to deal with the million details, someone who can make it all go away for us. Do you know anyone?”

  “You need Shelby Faircloth.”

  “Who?”

  “Lizbeth’s friend from Georgetown,” she said, referring to her daughter. “She’s the go-to person for Washington weddings.”

  “You think she’d be interested in taking on ours?”

  Laine chortled with laughter. “Are you serious? You two are the it couple of the decade. She’d kill for the chance to put together your wedding.”

  “I don’t want her to kill anyone. I’m trying to get Sam a full day off, and the last thing she needs is another body to contend with.” Nick winced, realizing it was too soon to be cavalier about murder, especially with John’s mother. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Don’t apologize for making a joke, honey. We could all use a little more levity in our lives these days. Do you want me to get in touch with Shelby for you?”

  “That’d be great. Ask her to come by the house at nine.”

  “Tonight?”

  “If she wants the job, tell her she has thirty minutes to convince us to hire her.”

  “I’ll give her the message.”

  “And save March 26th.”

  “This year?”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that? Including the bride?”

  Once again, Laine chortled with laughter. “If anyone can make it happen, Nick Cappuano, you can.”

  “I guess we’ll find out. So how’s Graham?”

  “Oh, honey, some days I wonder if he’ll ever be the same. The double-whammy of John’s death followed so closely by Julian…I don’t know.”

  “I need to get out to see him.”

  “He’d enjoy that. Why don’t you and Sam come for dinner on Sunday?”

  Pulling up his calendar, Nick was already figuring how he could rearrange his schedule to make it to the family’s weekly Sunday dinner. He hadn’t made it to a single one since the campaign began. “I can do it, but I’m not sure she can. She’s caught up in another hot case.”

  “The business with Henry, I’m sure.”

  “Yes.”

  “What could he have been thinking? And poor Annette.”

  “Do you know her well?”

  “We’ve been friends for years. She has to be beside herself. They’re speculating on the news that he’s going to resign. Have you heard anything?”

  “Nothing definitive, but there’ve been some rumblings on the Hill.”

  “Might be for the best—for Annette and the children.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from him, but Terry is due home this week. I think the additional two weeks were what he really needed. It was good of you to hold the job for him.”

  “I’m looking forward to working with him.” Nick had offered the deputy chief of staff job in his office to John’s older brother Terry, provided he spend at least thirty days attending in-patient alcohol rehab. On his own, Terry had tacked on two extra weeks, which Nick had taken as a good indication of Terry’s determination to stay sober. “Well, I won’t keep you. Thanks for the info about the wedding planner.”

  “Happy to help. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “I certainly will. Give Graham my love. I’ll be there Sunday.”

  “We’ll see you then.”

  Nick put down the phone, and reached for the framed picture of him and John that he kept on the credenza. Blond, handsome and utterly charming, John O’Connor had had it all until his twenty-year-old son murdered him in a fit of rage. As Nick stared the brother of his heart, he realized John’s death had left him without something else he’d soon need: a best man.

  Sam spent the evening online reviewing the websites of senators whose offices were cleaned by the dead women. Lightfeather, Ackerman, Stenhouse, Trent, Lewis, Cook and finally Cappuano. Sam hadn’t visited Nick’s site since he took office and was immediately captivated by the photo of him. “Wow,” she said. “Will you look at that?” Tall, handsome and distinguished, wearing a dark suit and a serious smile, he projected an aura of quiet authority that stirred her.

  “Whatcha looking at?” Nick asked as he came into the room.

  Embarrassed to be gawking at her fiancé’s photo, Sam spun around in the chair. “You, as a matter of fact.”

  His brows knitted with confusion. “What about me?”

  Sam tur
ned back around so he could see the computer screen. “I love that picture.”

  “Do you? I thought it was kind of dorky.”

  “Um, no. Definitely not dorky.”

  “Is that so?”

  “No wonder the women of the commonwealth are filling stadiums to overflowing at your rallies.”

  “Cut it out,” he said, flustered. “What are you doing on my website anyway?”

  “Something my dad said earlier. I stopped to talk shop with him after work.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That people only kill ‘the help’ when they know too much.”

  “What’s that got to do with my site?”

  “I was just looking at the sites of every senator they worked for—yours more out of curiosity than anything.”

  “What’re you looking for?”

  “Not sure yet. Anything that ties the seven of you together.”

  “Who are the other six?”

  Sam rattled off the names.

  Nick sat in one of the other chairs in the comfortable study. “Some heavy hitters on that list.”

  “What do they have in common?”

  “Ackerman, Cook, Lightfeather and myself are all Democrats. Stenhouse, Lewis and Trent are Republicans. Ackerman and Stenhouse are party leaders. Cook and Lewis have more than thirty years in the Senate, but Trent is relatively new. The Oregon governor appointed him after Tornquist flamed out in a scandal, and Trace was later elected. He’s still in his first full term.”

  “A few are on the same committees. Any bad history between any of them like there was between Graham and Stenhouse?”

  “I could do some digging into that and let you know.”

  “Keep it on the down low for now. I don’t want any of them to know I’m even looking into them at this point.”

  “You really think it was one of them?” Nick asked, incredulous.

  “The thing is, I have no idea. This investigation is going nowhere fast. We have two dead immigrant women, both of them pregnant, working for a company that provides a service to Congress. One of them was romantically involved with a senator, carrying his child and had an uncertain immigration status. And despite Lightfeather’s airtight alibi, I can’t help but wonder how it’s possible he didn’t have something to do with her murder. He had so much to lose.”