06 Fatal Mistake Read online

  His intense expression made her heart beat faster as a flash of fear went through her. Nick would kill him if he ever saw him looking at her that way. “I... Um...”

  “Forget I said that.” He extended a hand. “Friends?”

  Sam eyed his outstretched hand warily before she reached out to shake it. “Friends.”

  “Let’s get to work.”

  She released his hand and headed toward the main door, suddenly aware that the press corps camped outside HQ had witnessed the exchange with Hill. Fabulous.

  “Lieutenant, any suspects in the Vasquez murder?” one of them asked.

  “Nothing yet. Hope to have something for you soon.”

  “What’s with the scarf?” Hill asked as they crossed the lobby.

  “Had a little trouble with Lieutenant Stahl this morning,” she said.

  “What does that mean?”

  Sam told him about what’d happened outside her front door.

  “The guy’s got brass balls going to your house, especially when you’ve got Secret Service all over the place.”

  “He’s also got bruised balls. I managed to get off a good kick, but it’s embarrassing to admit how quickly he overpowered me.”

  “He took you by surprise.”

  “Still...”

  “Your pride is wounded.”

  “A little bit, but I feel better knowing his junk is wounded too.”

  Hill snorted with laughter. “You would.”

  Farnsworth waylaid them. “Lieutenant Holland. My office. Now.”

  Sam rolled her eyes at Hill. “Meet you in the pit.”

  “Good luck,” Hill said.

  Sam followed Farnsworth to his office.

  He slammed the door and turned to her, furious. “Are you all right?”

  Sam couldn’t recall a time when she’d seen him so angry, and that was saying something since she often made him angry. “Yes.”

  “Let me see.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m fine.”

  “I said, let me see.”

  Aggravated by the bossy men in her life, Sam unwound the scarf and tipped her head so he could see what were probably angry bruises on her neck.

  “God, Sam,” he said, sagging. “He could’ve killed you.”

  “Well, he didn’t and he’s got bruised junk as a result of his trouble.”

  “That’s the least of what he deserves. I just got off the phone with Forrester. He’s going to throw the book at Stahl. There’s nothing any of us hate more than dirty cops.”

  “So no chance of bail?”

  “Forrester will fight it. He’s handling the case personally.”

  “That’s good. I can’t help but relish the idea of Stahl in prison.”

  “I can’t help but relish the last of him around here. He’s been a pain in my ass for years.”

  “Mine too. I better get to it.”

  When someone knocked on the door, Farnsworth said, “Enter.”

  A sergeant with a camera came in. “I understand we need to document the lieutenant’s injuries?” he asked.

  “That we do,” Farnsworth said. “Lieutenant...”

  Resigned, Sam once again revealed the bruises and forced herself to remain still while the sergeant snapped photos of her from a multitude of angles. Just as Sam was about to snap at him to hurry up already, he said he had what he needed.

  “Thanks, Sarge.” After the sergeant left the room, Farnsworth said, “On behalf of the department, I apologize for what transpired at your residence this morning, Lieutenant.”

  “It was worth it if it gave us more ammo to use against him.”

  “I have to make a statement later today on Stahl’s arrest and what happened this morning. I’d like you there.”

  “Sure. Just let me know when.”

  Sam left the chief’s office and headed for the pit, anxious to dig into the latest on the Vasquez case.

  “We think we’ve got a murder weapon,” Cruz said when she walked in. “CSU uncovered a bloody knife in a garbage can six blocks from where Vasquez was found.”

  “Anywhere near the blood puddle?”

  “More than six blocks in the opposite direction.”

  “Thank goodness our guys are thorough. Where is it now?”

  “I sent it to the lab to be processed.”

  “Excellent,” Sam said, finally feeling the buzz that came with progress. “Agent Hill was able to secure Willie’s financial report from the bank in the Dominican Republic. He’ll be digging into that today.”

  Gonzo came into the pit, accompanying a young woman who looked distressed. Petite with dark hair and eyes, she’d clearly been crying.

  “Lieutenant, this is Liza Benjamin. She’s a friend of Jamie Clark’s. She came to the front desk asking for the officer in charge of the Vasquez investigation.”

  Sam gestured to the conference room and followed them in. She closed the door and turned to face the trembling woman, glancing at Gonzo, who turned on the recorder. Because she wasn’t a suspect, they didn’t need to inform her of the recording or advise her of her rights. “I’m Lieutenant Holland. I’m in charge of the Vasquez investigation. You’ve met Detective Gonzales. What can we do for you?”

  “I... I don’t know if I should be here, but I can’t stop thinking about what happened to Willie.”

  Sam leaned back against the conference room table, the picture of relaxed competence when every nerve in her body vibrated with tension. Would this be the break they’d been waiting for?

  “Take a deep breath and try to relax, Ms. Benjamin.”

  Gonzo produced a bottle of water that he handed to her.

  “Thank you,” Liza said, her hands continuing to shake as she took a drink. “Jamie is my friend. We met at yoga class and fell into the habit of getting a smoothie after class. We got to know each other, shared confidences. That’s how I knew about her friendship with Willie. She talked about him a lot. I started to wonder, you know?”

  “About?”

  “If it was more than friendship. I follow the team, so I knew he was married. I knew he had children.”

  “Did you suspect she was having an affair with him?”

  “I know she was.”

  Sam gripped the conference table tighter. “How did you know that?”

  “She told me.”

  “What did she tell you?” Sam hated interviews like this in which she had to pull every piece of information from the interviewee.

  “That she was in love with him, and he loved her too. He was going to leave his wife after the season. They weren’t getting along. They were fighting about money and how he wouldn’t help her brother. He didn’t want to be with her anymore. He wanted to be with Jamie, or so she said.”

  “Was she sleeping with him?”

  Liza bit her bottom lip and nodded. “She said she’d never had sex like that in her life, but something happened a couple of days before the game.”

  “Do you know what it was?”

  “He told her he couldn’t leave his wife. As much as he wanted to be with Jamie, he was afraid he’d lose his kids if he left Carmen. She was devastated and furious. She’d made plans with him, and then he pulled the rug out from under her. She was very, very angry with him.”

  “It would help our investigation if you gave us a written statement,” Sam said, glancing at Gonzo.

  Liza’s ravaged eyes widened with dismay. “Why? I just told you everything I know.”

  “We need it for the file.”

  “I... I don’t know about that.”

  “If you weren’t prepared to assist in our investigation, why did you come here?”

  “I... I thought I should tell someone what I knew. I love Jamie. I don’t want her to get in trouble, but she was so mad. She... She said she felt like she could kill him for putting her through this.”

  “Would you please write it down for us?” Sam asked, glancing at Gonzo who produced a yellow pad and a pen.

  Tears rolled d
own Liza’s cheeks as she waited for one of them to blink.

  Neither of them did.

  Sniffling, she picked up the pen and began to write.

  Sam went to the door and called out to the pit. “Cruz!”

  Freddie came into the room. “You bellowed?”

  “Please stay with Miss Benjamin while she records her statement on the Vasquez case. Make sure she accurately depicts what Jamie Clark told her about her affair with Mr. Vasquez and how she wanted to kill him for putting her through such an ordeal after he ended things with her a few days before the game.”

  Freddie’s eyes widened with surprise. “Will do.

  “Gonzo, let’s go pick up Ms. Clark for additional questioning.”

  “You won’t tell her what I said, will you?” Liza asked, dismay radiating from her.

  “Of course we will,” Sam said.

  Liza blanched. “Oh my God.”

  “Keep writing.”

  Freddie sat at the table with her.

  Sam strolled out of the conference room and into her office to get her keys and radio. She and Gonzo walked out to the parking lot together. “I wanted you to come with me so you can tell me what’s going on with the custody case,” Sam said as she pulled into traffic.

  “Andy is trying to set up a meeting with Lori and her lawyer.” Andy Simone was Nick’s good friend. Sam had asked him to help Gonzo with the case. “We’re hoping we can work something out short of going to court.”

  “I hope so too.”

  “I suppose I’m going to have to share custody with her as much as I wish I didn’t have to.”

  “She is his mother, Gonzo, and it seems like she’s trying.”

  “I know.”

  “Have you told Christina about it yet?”

  “I’m going to tonight. I wish it could wait until after the election, but Andy doesn’t want to put off the meeting that long. He feels Lori and her lawyer might view it as stonewalling on our part.”

  “You should listen to him. He’s a smart guy and knows what he’s doing.”

  “The whole thing sucks.”

  “I know it’s really hard, but you should try not to worry. You and Christina have taken such good care of Alex this year. That’ll count for a lot.”

  “Thanks, Sam. I appreciate the support.”

  They arrived at Jamie Clark’s apartment and took the stairs to the third floor.

  “Not what I pictured for the head trainer of an MLB team,” Gonzo said.

  Sam pounded on the door. “I thought the same thing the first time I was here.” When she didn’t hear any signs of life from inside, she pounded again. “MPD, Ms. Clark. Open up.”

  Locks disengaged with loud clicks.

  Suddenly uneasy, Sam rested her hand on her weapon.

  The door cracked open and Jamie Clark eyed them suspiciously. “What do you want? I told you everything I know.”

  “Is that so?” Sam asked, using her foot to push the door open wider. “We’ve just heard a whole other version of your story from a friend of yours.”

  “Who?”

  “Liza Benjamin.” Sam watched a wide array of emotions skirt across the other woman’s face—fear, anger, disbelief and, finally, resignation.

  “You asked me if I was having an affair with Willie. I was no longer involved with him when he died.”

  “The vagaries of your statement cast suspicion upon you,” Sam said. “I hope you realize that.”

  Jamie broke down into sobs. “I was protecting Willie’s kids. What would it matter now that we’d been together? That we’d fallen in love? I was protecting his memory.”

  “By lying to cops?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “We need you to come downtown to amend your statement.”

  “Am I under arrest?”

  “Not at this time and not if you cooperate from this point on. We do have to cuff you for transport, however. Department policy.”

  Gonzo cuffed the crying woman.

  “Can I at least put pants on?” She wore only an oversized T-shirt.

  “We’ll get you some pants downtown. Let’s go.”

  She cried all the way to HQ, but didn’t say another word. In deference to her half-dressed state, Sam pulled into the parking lot at the morgue entrance and took her in that way, avoiding the media camped out front.

  “Get her into some clothes and put her in one of the interrogation rooms,” she said to Gonzo. “Let me know when she’s ready.”

  “Will do.”

  Sam walked into the pit just as her radio crackled with a call from dispatch. “This is Holland. Go.”

  “Report of a possible homicide at the Capitol Motor Inn.” The dispatcher provided an address on Massachusetts Avenue, one of the main arteries into and out of the city.

  “Got it.” She went into the conference room where Freddie was finishing up with Liza.

  “Please stay available in case we need to reach you,” Freddie said.

  “Fine.” She brushed past Sam and hurried toward the lobby. “What did she think would happen if she came in here and told us all that about Jamie?”

  “Not what did happen, that’s for sure.”

  “We’ve got a body in a hotel room on Mass Ave. Let’s go.”

  Sam had planned to use the morgue exit, but screaming coming from the direction of the lobby had her heading out there to see what was going on.

  “What were you thinking, you stupid cow?” Jamie shouted at Liza as Gonzo forcibly restrained Jamie. “How could you do this to me?”

  Frozen in place, Liza cried hysterically. “I had to tell them! Willie is dead.”

  “It’s none of your fucking business!”

  “Freddie, get Liza out of here. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

  Sam went to help Gonzo, and between the two of them they dragged Jamie into central booking, screaming all the way.

  “Sorry about that,” Gonzo said. “She went off like a rocket when she caught sight of Liza. I’ve got it from here, but thanks for the help.”

  “We just got a report of a body in a motel on Mass Ave. Cruz and I are heading there now, so you can oversee her amended statement that includes the details of her sexual affair with Mr. Vasquez.”

  “I didn’t kill Willie!” Jamie said, kicking at Gonzo, who let her connect with his shin and then smiled at Sam. “Give me a polygraph if you don’t believe me!”

  “Maybe we will, Ms. Clark,” Sam said. “We aren’t charging you with anything—yet. But technically, you just assaulted a police officer in front of other police officers, so don’t try my patience.”

  “Go to hell. You don’t understand anything.”

  “Ouch,” Sam said. “That wounds me.”

  Gonzo’s snicker of laughter followed her to the main door. She found Cruz in the parking lot, leaning into Liza’s car.

  “Are you okay to drive?” Sam asked her.

  “I’m fine.”

  Sam nudged Freddie out of the way. “You did the right thing coming in today. Even if it cost you a friend, it was the right thing.”

  “If you say so,” Liza said, dejected.

  Sam stepped back so Liza could close the car door. When she pulled away, her tires squealed. “She can’t wait to get away from us.”

  “Can’t say I blame her.”

  “People are ridiculous,” Sam said as they crossed the parking lot to the far end of the building.

  “In general or in particular?”

  Sam slid into the driver’s seat. “In general. She comes in here with information about a woman who’s banging our murder victim, and she thinks we’re not going to do anything about that?”

  “I don’t think she gave it much thought beyond coming in and telling us what she knew.”

  “Clearly. Did you hear if Hill found anything in Willie’s financials?”

  “Nothing yet, but he was just getting started when I last saw him.”


  “Anything new with your dad?”

  Freddie glanced over at her, seeming surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. “Elin and I had dinner with them last night. He’s...very... I don’t how to describe it. He’s almost too enthusiastic about everything. Full of grandiose plans and ideas.”

  “You think he’s manic again?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” Freddie said with a sigh. “From everything I’ve read about the disorder, soaring highs and crushing lows are to be expected.”

  “What does Elin think?”

  “She responds to him the same way my mom does.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Like everything he does and says is fabulous. I feel like I’m the only one wondering if his behavior is normal. Elin thinks I’m looking for trouble where there isn’t any.”

  “If you want my opinion...”

  “I do. You know I do.”

  “You have good instincts about people and situations. Trust them. If your gut is telling you something is off, keep an eye on it as best you can.”

  “That’s good advice. I wish I could talk to my mom about it without him around, but they’re joined at the hip. They’re even sharing her cell phone. Who does that anymore?”

  “Does she seem happy?”

  “I’ve never seen her so happy. Since he’s been back, I feel like I’m seeing someone I’ve never met before in her. She never stopped loving him in all the years he was gone. I don’t want to do anything to take away from her happiness. No one deserves it more than she does.”

  “But...”

  “I’m worried about what’ll become of her if he has another episode.”

  “That’s a reasonable fear. All you can do is keep a close eye on it and be there for her if she needs you.”

  “Thanks, Sam. It helps to be able to talk to someone who doesn’t think I’m ridiculous for being concerned.”

  “You’re not ridiculous.”

  They arrived at motel to find it surrounded by police vehicles. The medical examiner’s van pulled up a minute after they did. Lindsey walked with Sam and Freddie up the stairs to the second floor where a crowd had gathered outside room sixteen.

  They entered the messy room where a Caucasian male, approximately six foot five or six inches, was lying facedown on the bed in a pool of blood. Lindsey handed Sam a pair of gloves. “Let’s turn him over.”