Fatal Deception Page 13

  “What do you mean?”

  “I took advantage of her pain to extract a confession.”

  “You took a murderer off the streets.”

  “Apparently, she takes issue with how I did it.”

  “It won’t go anywhere,” he said fiercely. “Hell, we both got commendations for what we did that day. That’s got to count for something.”

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  He looked over at her again. “Are you worried about it?”

  “Hell, no. I did my job. I’d do it the same way if I had it to do over.”

  “Me too,” he said firmly.

  Sam knew it had taken him weeks of sleepless nights and many mandated appointments with the department shrink to come around to that hard-won conclusion, and it pissed her off that Melissa was making him question himself—again. “Don’t let it get to you. We both know we did the right thing, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

  A long period of silence ensued while he seemed to be absorbing her advice. “Can I ask you something that has nothing to do with work?”

  “Sure,” Sam said, relieved that he had taken the news about the lawsuit better than she’d expected. All at once, the sleepless night, the injury, the strain of the bizarre case and the situation with McBride and Tyrone caught up to her in the form of bone-deep exhaustion.

  “What does it mean that Elin is sneaking around behind my back?”

  “Define ‘sneaking around.’”

  “Texting in the bathroom when she thinks I’m asleep. That kind of thing.”

  “Freddie...”

  “She’s not cheating on me.”

  “How can you know that for sure?”

  “I know,” he said tightly. “Things are really good between us. Better than ever since we moved in together. She wouldn’t do that to me.”

  “What else would it be?”

  “I have no idea. That’s what I’m asking you.”

  Sam thought about it for a few minutes before the answer dawned on her, sending her into a fit of laughter that made her face burn. That she hadn’t thought of it immediately was a testament to the fog that had taken over her brain since she was pistol whipped earlier in the day.

  “What the hell is so funny?”

  “What’s coming up next week?”

  “I don’t know. What’re you talking about?”

  “Think about it.”

  “Oh my God. My birthday?”

  “It’s not every day a guy turns thirty.”

  “Is she having a party?”

  “I’m not telling you that.”

  “Come on, Sam.”

  “No way. You’re not getting that out of me.”

  “Huh,” he said. “It certainly beats some of the other things that’ve crossed my mind lately.”

  “It’s concerning to me that you don’t entirely trust her.”

  “I trust her.”

  “Do you?”

  Freddie gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, he said, “Sometimes I wonder...”

  “About?”

  “What the hell she’s doing with me.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Freddie! She’s lucky to be with you, and she knows it.”

  “And you’re not at all biased,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Not at all,” she said, thinking of Jeannie and Will. “Let me ask you something.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Am I too cozy with my detectives?”

  That set him off into a fit of laughter. “Cozy? You?”

  Sam bit back a sharp retort, annoyed that he would laugh at her when she was being totally serious. “Friendly. You know what I mean.”

  “We all think of you as a friend and a mentor, but we never forget that you’re our boss first. Never.”

  “I don’t know how to be just your boss. You’re all important to me.”

  “We know that, Sam.”

  “Hypothetically speaking, if you learned something during an investigation that would cause me or my family serious heartburn, would you tell me or would you bury it to protect me?” It was as close as she’d ever come to telling him what’d happened with McBride and Tyrone.

  “Is the info critical to the investigation?”

  “Yes.”

  Freddie thought about that for a moment. “I’d tell you.”

  Sam nodded, comforted by his reply. “Good answer.”

  He pulled the car up to the curb on Ginger Dickenson’s block and killed the engine. “Whatever happened with McBride and Tyrone, I’m sure you felt you had no choice.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Okay, then.”

  As always, she appreciated his unwavering support. She pulled open the passenger side door. “Let’s get this done. I’ve got a fundraiser to get to.”

  “Looking like you went ten rounds with Mike Tyson?”

  Sam shrugged. “Nick knew what he was getting when he said ‘I do.’”

  That sent Freddie into a new fit of laughter. “Sure he did.”

  Sam followed him up the sidewalk to a brick-front town house with wrought-iron accents. He rang the bell, and they waited for at least a minute before they heard footsteps inside.

  “Who is it?” a female voice said.

  “MPD,” Freddie said. “Lieutenant Holland. Detective Cruz.” They held up their shields so she could see them through the peephole.

  A series of locks disengaged, and the door swung open. Ginger Dickenson was petite with long, light brown hair that she had tacked up in a messy bun. She wore yoga pants and a T-shirt that showed off a trim figure. A chubby toddler appeared between her legs. She bent to scoop him up. “What can I do for you?”

  “May we have a few minutes of your time, Mrs. Dickenson?” Sam asked.

  “You’re the one who married the senator.”

  “Yes,” Sam said through gritted teeth. She’d never get used to the notoriety her marriage had generated in the capital city.

  Ginger stepped out of the doorway to admit them. “Come in.”

  They followed her into a living room that was scattered with the toys of a busy little boy. She’d been in the midst of folding a basket of laundry. Ginger reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

  Sam couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to have nothing more to think about in a day than taking care of her child, folding some laundry and watching TV. She decided she’d probably be bored out of her skull without the work that had defined her adult life, but wouldn’t it be nice to get the chance to find out? As her gaze landed on the toddler who was cruising around the coffee table, Sam was filled with the familiar sense of longing. She shook it off before the sadness could take hold.

  “This is about Victoria,” Ginger said with a wary glance at first Sam and then Freddie.

  “Yes,” Sam said.

  “Is there any word on Maeve?”

  “Not yet.”

  Ginger sat on the sofa and gestured for them to take the loveseat. “God. I can’t think about anything else but where she might be, what she might be going through.”

  “We’re having the same thoughts,” Sam said. “We’re doing everything we can think of to find her. How long had you known Victoria?”

  “Since we had the kids. We were roommates in the hospital. My Trevor was born the same day as Maeve, so we had an instant bond. We became very close. I can’t believe what’s happened. Who would want to hurt Victoria? She was the nicest person. And Derek... What he must be going through.”

  “He’s understandably distraught,” Sam said.

  “He’s not a suspect, is he?” Ginger asked.

  “No.”

  “That’s good,” Ginger said, visibly relieved. “He was so devoted to her. I told my husband that if it turned out to be him, I was giving up on people.”

  “What did Victoria tell you about her family?” Sam asked.

  “Other than Derek and Maeve, she didn’t have any family. Her parents wer
e dead, and she was an only child. I remember when she first told me that, how sad I was for her. But there was nothing sad about her. She was a very positive, upbeat person to say she’d been through so much.”

  “Did you ever meet other friends of hers?” Cruz asked.

  Ginger shook her head. “It was quite the other way around. The only people she knew in the city were her former colleagues from Calahan Rice. I introduced her to my girlfriends, and they loved her. She fit right into our group like she’d always been there. We had a girl’s night out once a month, playgroups with the kids. That kind of thing.”

  “You said Derek was devoted to her,” Sam said.

  “Extremely. You only had to be around them to know what I mean. They put out that stupidly in love vibe.” To Sam, she said, “You spent time with them. You must know what I mean.”

  “They seemed very happy.”

  “Yes,” Ginger said.

  “Was she equally devoted to him?”

  “Oh absolutely! He was all she talked about—well, him and Maeve. She was madly in love with him.”

  “And you never heard her say anything negative about him or their marriage?” Freddie asked.

  Ginger shook her head. “We used to poke fun at how she never joined in the husband bashing that we occasionally indulged in. I suspect she was more reserved in how she talked about him because of his job, but I also think it was because she didn’t have a bad word to say about him. It was admirable.”

  “Did you notice any changes in her over the last few weeks?” Sam asked.

  Ginger thought about that for a moment. “She might’ve been a little off, but she’d had the flu, and it lingered. Before she got sick, she told me she and Derek were talking about having another baby.” Ginger’s eyes sparkled with tears. “I can’t understand how this could’ve happened.”

  “We’re working to get to the bottom of it,” Sam assured her. “Were any of your other friends closer to her than you were?”

  “No, I was the closest to her.”

  “Would you mind writing down the names of the other women in your group and their phone numbers for us?”

  Ginger took the notepad that Freddie handed her. When she was done, she handed it back to him and turned to Sam. “The day of your wedding, the other girls and I got together to watch the coverage. Victoria was so excited that she got to be there. She and Derek thought you were so perfect for their friend.” Ginger brushed at a stray tear that slid down her cheek. “I thought you might like to know that.”

  Sam stood riveted in place, astounded by the rush of sadness that caught her off guard.

  “Lieutenant?” Freddie said, raising a brow in question.

  Sam met Ginger’s tearful gaze. “Thank you for telling me. I thought she was a lovely person.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Freddie added.

  “I hope you find whoever did this to her, and please find Maeve.”

  “We’re doing everything we can,” Freddie assured her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jeannie McBride was in shock as Will drove her home to the Foggy Bottom neighborhood where she lived with her boyfriend Michael.

  “I can’t believe this has happened,” she said for the tenth time since they left HQ.

  “It’s our own damned fault,” Will said. “We should’ve told her the truth back in April.”

  “We couldn’t have told her then. Her dad was in the hospital. No one was sure if he was going to make it. Did you want to be responsible for possibly destroying his reputation when he might’ve died?”

  “We shouldn’t have lied.”

  “Well, we did, and now we’re screwed.”

  “Will this end our careers?” he asked.

  “How the hell do I know? I’ve never been suspended before.” A knot of anxiety settled in her chest, reminding her of the awful days and weeks that followed her attack. “I don’t think it will. She’s pissed—and rightfully so. I guess we can hope it’ll blow over after we serve out the suspension.”

  “Should we fight it?”

  Incredulous, Jeannie spun around in the seat to stare at him. “Are you out of your freaking mind? On what grounds would we fight the fact that we lied to our lieutenant? And would you really want the whole department knowing why we were suspended?”

  “Won’t they find out anyway?”

  “Not if the three people involved keep their mouths shut. The worst that’ll happen is people will know we were suspended but not why.”

  “So she can send us home like that? With no due process?”

  “Of course she can! The due process comes in if we choose to fight it, which we will not. You got me?”

  “Yeah,” he grumbled. “I got you. Shit, a week without pay... That’s gonna kill me.”

  “I can spot you some money if you need it. This is all my fault anyway. It was my call to tell her we’d found nothing new—and I came clean with her today without talking to you about it first.”

  “The hell with that. This is on both of us.”

  As they sat at the curb in front of Michael’s house, Jeannie tried to bring herself to open the door, to go inside, to figure out how to get through the next week without the job that kept her so busy the demons couldn’t find her.

  “Did we do the right thing, Jeannie?” Will asked in a small voice that made him sound more like a frightened boy than a seasoned detective.

  “Yes, we did,” she said without hesitation. “When she has time to think about it, she’ll see why we did it.” Even as she said that, Jeannie suspected she’d dream about Sam telling her she was disappointed with her. She’d never forget that. After what they’d endured together following Jeannie’s assault, when Sam had stood by her through the rape examination and investigation, she thought of Sam as much more than a boss. She was also a close friend. That she had disappointed her boss and close friend was a bitter blow to absorb.

  “What she said, about how we disappointed her...” Will’s voice wavered. They were on the same wavelength. “That hurt.”

  “Yeah, it did. I’m sorry I dragged you into this and took you down with me.”

  “I was well aware of what we were doing and why, so don’t go there.”

  Jeannie appreciated that he wanted to share in the blame, but he’d done what she’d told him to. As his superior, the blame fell squarely on her shoulders. “You get why we can’t tell anyone why we were suspended, right?”

  “Don’t worry. No one will hear it from me. Will you tell Michael?”

  Jeannie glanced at the house that had been her haven since the attack. She’d finally given up her own apartment and officially moved in with him a month ago. Things had been going so well, and now this. “I suppose I’ll have to explain why I’m not going to work. He knows what happened anyway. He didn’t approve of me lying to her. He told me it would come back to bite me in the ass.”

  “Looks like he was right.”

  “He certainly won’t take any pleasure in that.” She met Will’s gaze. “Come over in the morning, and we’ll write up the report we should’ve given her at the time.”

  Will’s boyishly handsome face brightened at that idea. “I’ll be here.”

  “Try not to worry. She knows we’re good at our jobs. That’s going to count for something.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Jeannie got out of the car and waved as he drove off. Trudging up the stairs, she felt as if she had twenty-pound weights attached to her legs. She used her key in the door and stopped short when she realized the alarm wasn’t set. That alarm had kept her sane by making her feel safe after she was viciously raped and beaten. “Michael?”

  He came bounding down the stairs and was surprised to see her. “Hey, baby. What’re you doing home?”

  At the sight of him, Jeannie’s composure crumpled.

  Rushing over to her, he put his arms around her. “What, honey? What is it?”

  She burrowed her face into his chest, absorbing the comfor
t he offered without hesitation. “I got suspended.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Fitzgerald.” Ironic that the cold case Sam had used to lure her back to work after the attack had led to the first disciplinary action of her career.

  “She found out that you held back on the report.”

  Jeannie nodded. “I should’ve listened to you.”

  “You thought you were doing the right thing at the time. No one can fault you for that.”

  “She certainly didn’t want to hear that today.”

  “She thinks the world of you, Jeannie, personally and professionally. Everyone knows that.”

  Hearing him say that broke what was left of her composure. “She said I disappointed her.”

  He tightened his hold on her. “Aww, baby.”

  “I’m going to fix this,” she vowed. “No matter what I have to do, I will fix it.”

  * * *

  Since it was already five thirty when they left Ginger’s house, Sam had Freddie drop her at Ninth Street home. “Pick me up at seven?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Take good care of my car tonight. I know you’re not used to cars that don’t backfire and belch.” She never got tired of cracking on the vintage Mustang he was so proud of.

  He rolled his eyes at her. “Tell me about the party Elin is having for me.”

  “Get the hell out of here,” she said as she got out of the car. “There’s no party.”

  “I’m going to tell her you told me,” he called through the open window.

  “I didn’t tell you anything! Jesus! Will you go already?”

  He scowled at her. “Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”

  “Don’t give me reason to!” She headed toward her father’s house, fueled by the annoyance her partner had caused, but with every step she took toward the ramp that led to her dad’s front door, she wanted to turn and run away.

  A haze of humid heat hung over the city, sucking the life out of her. Sweat that she couldn’t blame entirely on the heat coated her back as she scaled the ramp. She could count on one hand the number of times she and her dad had truly been at odds with each other. After today, she’d probably need the fingers on her second hand.

  She rapped on the door and stepped inside. The blinds were drawn to keep the heat out and the cool air from the air conditioner in.