Fatal Frenzy: Book 9 of the Fatal Series Read online

  Though he was young and green and still had a lot to learn about being a detective—and a man—he was a good guy, and Gonzo owed him his life. On the day that Billy Springer shot him in the neck, Arnold had applied pressure that kept him from bleeding out in the street. “Yeah.”

  “You think the LT is coming back?”

  “What’s a matter? I’m not good enough?”

  “How to answer this without losing my job…”

  “Haha. Yeah, I think she’ll be back. Maybe not right away, but eventually.”

  “Can’t imagine the job without her in the office barking orders at all of us.”

  “Barking orders… Got to remember to tell her you said that.”

  “You’d better not!”

  Gonzo began to laugh, stopping only when he saw movement on the corner of the block. “Heads up,” he said to Arnold and then into the radio to alert the Patrol officers backing them up. “Let’s go.” He had to remind himself to hold back and give Arnold the lead as promised.

  “Mr. Besozzi?” Arnold flashed his gold shield. “I’m Detective Arnold and this is my partner—”

  A shot rang out, and Arnold went down, nearly knocking Gonzo over on the way. Besozzi turned tail and ran. Gonzo pulled his weapon and got off a couple of rounds as he screamed into his radio. “Officer down.” Somehow he managed to get off the address to Dispatch before dropping to his knees next to his partner, who’d been shot in the face. A gurgling sound came from his throat and quickly became the worst sound Gonzo had ever heard.

  “God, Arnold, hang in there,” Gonzo whispered, cradling his partner’s head in hands wet with blood. “Don’t you dare die on me, do you hear me?”

  Pounding footsteps behind them indicated the arrival of the Patrolmen.

  “Go after him!” Gonzo screamed at them. “Don’t let him get away!” Into his radio, he again said, “Officer down! Get a bus here! It’s bad. We need more backup. Suspect is in the wind.”

  The gurgling sound from Arnold continued until it stopped.

  “Goddamn it!” Gonzo cried. “Don’t you dare fucking die!” He broke down into sobs that he tried desperately to control as he unzipped Arnold’s coat and pressed his ear to his partner’s chest, hearing no sign of a heartbeat. “No, please no.”

  The EMTs had to pull Gonzo off his partner so they could tend to him.

  “He’s gone.” Gonzo wiped freezing tears from his face. “He’s dead.”

  One of the EMTs put a stethoscope to Arnold’s chest to listen. He looked up at his partner and shook his head.

  A short time later, screaming sirens preceded the arrival of additional officers, the Medical Examiner and Crime Scene detectives that would record every detail of the shooting, right down to the clothing Arnold had been wearing.

  Gonzo stared down at his partner’s mangled face, thinking about how he’d let him take the lead and now he was dead.

  “Sergeant,” a familiar voice said. “Gonzo.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to look away from Arnold as Deputy Medical Examiner Byron Tomlinson zipped him into a body bag. Ten minutes ago they’d been arguing about the cold, and now his partner was dead.

  A hand landed on his shoulder, making Gonzo flinch.

  “Gonzo,” Captain Malone said. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house so we can talk it through.”

  “I’m going with him.”

  “They’re taking him to the morgue.”

  “I’m going with him.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Did Patrol get our perp?”

  “I haven’t heard anything yet.”

  “We need to call everyone in. I want our entire squad, the FBI, the Marshals’ fugitive response team. I want everyone.”

  “Already being done.”

  “This is a crime scene,” he said, gesturing to the sidewalk that was covered with Arnold’s blood.

  “It’ll be treated as such. I’ll see to it myself.”

  “Someone needs to call Sam.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I’ll be the one to tell his family,” Gonzo said. “No one but me.”

  “Of course.”

  As Tomlinson and his team wheeled Arnold to the Medical Examiner’s truck, everyone on the scene came to a halt and stood at attention, paying their respects to their fallen brother. Two patrol cars moved into position ahead of the ME’s truck and two more would follow, escorting Arnold home to headquarters.

  Satisfied that the proper respect was being paid and steps were being taken to catch the man who’d killed Arnold, Gonzo followed the gurney bearing the lifeless body of his partner into the ME’s truck for the ride to the morgue.

  * * *

  Nick came down on top of Sam, his hands and lips seeming to be everywhere at once until her senses were completely overwhelmed. The aroma of coconut from the scented candles took her back to the blissful days they’d spent on their honeymoon in Bora Bora.

  He cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples until she gasped from the painful pleasure.

  She grasped a handful of his hair and dragged him into another tongue-twisting kiss. “Nick.”

  “What, honey?”

  “I want you right now. I can’t wait any longer.”

  “I suppose we can go slow next time.”

  “Mmm, yes, next time.” Sam had been ready to explode for hours by the time he finally pushed into her, filling her in every possible way, like only he ever could. “Don’t go slow.” She dug her fingernails into his back, making him groan as he began to move.

  “Samantha, God I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us.”

  “Me too. I love you so much. You have no idea how much.”

  He lifted her legs so he could go deeper. “I do. I know. I always know.”

  The new position took her right to the edge, and then he sent her flying by pressing his thumb to her clit at exactly the right moment.

  “There it is,” he whispered. “Nothing like the real thing.”

  Even in the midst of an epic orgasm, he made her laugh. Her laughter died on her lips when he withdrew from her, turned her over and positioned her on her hands and knees. When he surged back into her, riding the last waves of her orgasm, she realized she was the only one who’d come.

  How she loved him like this, when he was all hers and driving her wild with his hands and lips and cock. And then he pressed his finger against her back door, making her cry out from the incredible sensations that overtook her body. When he loved her this way, there was no space left in her mind for thoughts of anything but him and the magic they created together.

  Propped over two pillows, she could do nothing but let him have his wicked way with her. And he was very, very wicked as he alternated strokes of his cock and finger to drive her completely mad. Then he reached around with his free hand to tease her clit, and that was all it took to make her come again.

  This time he joined her, surging into her over and over until he came down on her back, his sweat joining with hers, his unmistakably appealing scent filling the air around her, his love providing the safety she craved.

  Nothing bad could touch her as long as he loved her, or so she’d like to think.

  His arm encircled her waist as he kissed a trail down her back before he withdrew from her and removed the pillows he’d put under her. He pulled a blanket up and over her and got up to use the bathroom at the far end of their hideaway. Or at least it had been a hideaway until they’d had Secret Service all over the house. Now nothing was secret.

  The irony of that made her giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” Nick asked as he got under the blanket and snuggled up to her.

  “How there’re no secrets with the Secret Service around.”
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br />   “This is very true.”

  “You think they know what we’re doing when we come up here?”

  He trailed his finger down her backbone, making her shiver. “I’m sure they suspect.”

  “That’s so creepy.”

  “Try not to think about it. We have a right to a life in our own home, and we’ll be damned glad to have them if someone tries to get at us or Scotty.”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Thinking of what could happen to Nick or Scotty was enough to give her nightmares, so she chose not to go there.

  “You’ve got to figure we’ve used up our share of bad luck.” He kissed her shoulder and then took a little bite of her skin. “You want to go again?”

  “Already?”

  He pressed his reawakened erection against her. “Uh-huh.”

  “You have to be the randiest vice president in the history of the union.”

  “I can live with that distinction as long as I get to be randy with the sexiest second lady in the history of the world.”

  How could she say no to that?

  Captain Malone pulled up to the Secret Service checkpoint at Ninth Street and gave his name. “I need to see Lieutenant Holland.”

  “I’m sorry but Vice President and Mrs. Cappuano are unavailable at this time.”

  “It’s urgent police business.”

  “We’re under orders that they’re not to be disturbed for anyone other than their son.”

  Malone sighed, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one. He rolled up his window and drove off, calling her cell as he went. Her voicemail picked up on the second ring. “Sam, it’s Malone. I’m sorry to bother you when you’re on leave, but I need you to call me the minute you get this message. It’s urgent.”

  He ended that call and placed another to Chief Farnsworth, who sounded like he’d been asleep when he said, “Farnsworth.”

  “Joe, it’s Jake. Sorry to wake you, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  “Oh God. More bad news?”

  “The worst kind.”

  After a heartbeat of a pause, Farnsworth said, “Who?”

  “Detective Arnold.”

  “Oh no. How?”

  “Shot in the face by a person of interest in the knife attacks.”

  “Jesus. Did we get the guy?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “Have we called in the FBI and the Marshals?”

  “Already done.”

  “I want all the help we can get, but we’re the lead. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir. Everyone is gathering at HQ. I thought you’d want to be there.”

  “You’re damned right I do. Has Arnold’s family been notified?”

  “Sergeant Gonzales has asked to handle that personally. I plan to go with him.”

  “You’ll need to do it soon before the press catches wind. Let’s call in Public Affairs to help deal with the media, and as soon as his family is notified we’ll need the PIO to put it out to NCIC,” Farnsworth said, referring to the National Crime Information Center, which would get the word out to police departments around the country.

  “I’ll make sure everything is taken care of.”

  “God, Jake, he was only what? Twenty-five?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  Another deep sigh echoed through the phone. “Does Sam know?”

  “I just went by her place to tell her, but the Secret Service stopped me. Apparently, the vice president and his wife are not to be disturbed by anyone other than their son. I left her a voicemail.”

  “This is going to screw her up worse than she already is.”

  “I had the same thought. And Gonzales is not good at all. Happened right in front of him.”

  “We’ll need to notify Cruz and the rest of the squad.”

  “I’ll call them in, and I’ll get in touch with Cruz.”

  “Thanks, Jake. I’m going to call the mayor, and then I’ll be right in.”

  “See you there.”

  On the drive to HQ, Malone called Dispatch. “It’s Malone. I need the entire Homicide squad recalled immediately.”

  “Captain,” the dispatcher said, “I’m so sorry about Detective Arnold.”

  “Thank you. Please don’t mention what’s happened to the detectives when you call them. Just ask them to report to HQ immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He hung up with dispatch and called Freddie Cruz, who wouldn’t receive the call from Dispatch due to his suspension.

  “Yeah, Cruz.” He too sounded like he’d been sleeping.

  “It’s Malone.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cruz said, apparently now wide awake.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  “What kind of bad news?”

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this on the phone, but Detective Arnold has been shot and killed in the line of duty.”

  “Oh my God. Was anyone else hurt?”

  “Thankfully, no, but it happened right in front of Sergeant Gonzales, who’s not taking it well, needless to say.”

  “Did we get the shooter?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m out of town, but I’ll leave within the hour to come home. I want to help.”

  “You’re suspended, Detective.”

  “I’ll work without pay. Please don’t tell me I can’t help.”

  “Check in when you get back to town.”

  “I’m in Florida. It’ll be sometime tomorrow. Did someone tell Sam?”

  “I left a message for her. The Secret Service is guarding the fortress.”

  “I’ll call her too.”

  “I’ll talk to you when you get back,” Malone said.

  “Will you let me know if there are any developments?”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “Thank you. Will you tell Gonzo… Ah damn, I’ll call him.”

  “I’m sure he’d appreciate that. Safe travels.”

  Malone pulled into the parking lot at HQ and cut the engine. For a full minute he sat staring at the morgue entrance, telling himself he needed to go in there and take care of his people. He needed to reassure them and remind them they still had a job to do in the midst of unspeakable tragedy. In twenty-two years on the job, he’d unfortunately seen this happen before, and losing a colleague had long-lasting effects on the people who worked closest with the officer.

  They were in for a rough couple of months when they’d already had a rough couple of months.

  Weary and already overwhelmed by the tasks before him, Malone summoned the fortitude to get out of the car, to go inside, and to deal with everything that had to be done when one of their own went down in the line of duty.

  Chapter Twelve

  Freddie threw clothes into the suitcase with one hand, while getting dressed with the other. When he had everything packed, he went to the bed to wake Elin, who’d slept through Malone’s phone call.

  “Mmm,” she said in the sleepy voice that usually turned him on. “Again?”

  “Elin, honey, wake up.”

  Her eyes opened and she took in the sight of him dressed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Arnold was shot and killed tonight. I need to go home.”

  “Oh my God. Freddie. God.” Tears flooded her eyes as she reached for him.

  Despite the adrenaline that beat through his system, he took a moment to comfort her. “We have to go.”

  “Yes, we do.” She got up from bed, went into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later dressed and carrying her cosmetic bag.

  “I’m sorry to cut short our trip.”

  “Please don’t apologize. Of course you have to go home. Who called you?”


  “Captain Malone.”

  “Did he say anything about what happened?”

  “Nothing more than that Arnold was shot and killed, and Gonzo’s a mess.”

  “Poor, Gonzo. And Sam has just been through such a horrible ordeal, and now this.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Freddie.” Her hand on his shoulder made him flinch. “Could you please hold me for a minute?”

  “We need to go.”

  “One minute.”

  He was afraid that if he stopped moving for even a minute, he’d lose his mind. But he couldn’t say no to her, not when he was well aware that the death of one of his closest colleagues was realization of her worst nightmare. He let her put her arms around his waist and put his around her, though everything in him wanted to get in the car and drive until he was back with his tribe.

  “I’m so sorry, Freddie.”

  “Thanks.” Her kindness and sympathy were nearly his undoing. Tears burned his eyes, but he refused to give in to them. If he started, he might never stop. Arnold had been everyone’s kid brother in the squad, the one they loved to tease and pick on. He took it all in his stride, always smiling and up for whatever came next.

  Gonzo would be wrecked by Arnold’s death, especially since it had happened right in front of him and the shooter had gotten away.

  “We have to go,” Freddie said. “I’ve got to be with them.”

  “I know.” She released him, grabbed her purse and went out the door ahead of him into the dark of night for the long drive home.

  * * *

  Officer down. Officer down. Officer down. The words kept running through Gonzo’s mind like a nightmare that refused to end as he stood watch over his mortally wounded partner in the morgue. Any minute now, Arnold was going to pop up and tell him it had all been another big joke. Gonzo wanted to travel back in time to when they’d been bickering in the car.

  You take the lead.

  He blew out a deep breath when the sorrow threatened to overtake him. He couldn’t afford to lose it. Not while Arnold needed him to stay strong until they got the guy who’d done this. It was the last thing he’d ever do for his partner, and he wouldn’t rest until the job was done.

  “Sergeant Gonzales.”