Fatal Destiny Read online

  “What do you want?”

  Sam looked up to the second-floor window where Gardner had a gun trained on them. “Fuck,” she muttered. Through the window Gardner had cracked open, Sam heard a baby begin to cry. The sound sent a cold chill down her spine as she reached for her weapon.

  “What do you want?”

  Sam flashed her badge. “We’d like to speak to you about an incident two years ago.” Sam made an effort to keep her voice calm. “December of 2008.”

  “What incident?”

  “Shooting on G Street. A cop was hit.”

  “I don’t know nothing about that.”

  “You once lived in a house owned by Gerald Price?” Sam rattled off the address.

  “Yeah, so?”

  The baby’s cries were getting louder, which ramped up Sam’s anxiety. “We found items in the house referring to the shooting. Newspaper clippings, reports, photos.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “Where were you on December 28, 2008?”

  He released a harsh laugh. “You expect me to know that off the top of my head? Fuckin’ cops. Get the hell out of here. I got nothing to say to you.”

  Sam swallowed hard and tried to forget about the threats this man had made toward Faith Miller as well as the pictures of his battered rape victim. “I need you to tell me where you were that day.”

  “And I need you to get the fuck off my property before I get pissed.”

  “We can continue this conversation downtown.”

  “Sam…”

  She waved Freddie off. “What’s it going to be Mr. Gardner? Here or downtown?”

  A shot rang out. Before Sam could register that he’d actually shot at them, she was flying through the air. She landed under Freddie in the next yard over from Gardner’s place. In the second before her head made contact with a large rock, Sam had the wherewithal to realize that Nick was going to be really mad when he heard about this.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter 8

  Sam battled her way through the fog of pain and confusion to discover she was in the back of an ambulance. “Freddie,” she said as the events at Gardner’s house came rushing back to her. “Where’s Cruz?”

  The paramedic put his hands on her shoulders to stop her from sitting up. “Detective Cruz stayed at the scene to deal with the shooter.”

  Sam’s tongue felt too big for her mouth. “Tell me he’s not there alone.”

  “The place is crawling with cops. Don’t worry.”

  “We get Gardner?”

  “Your partner was quite the hero. He dragged you to safety and called for backup. SWAT got Gardner.”

  “Jeez. How long was I out?”

  “Twenty-five minutes.”

  “Shit.” The pain radiating from her head suddenly had her full attention. “There was a baby in the house. I heard a baby crying.”

  “Social services is on it.”

  “Need my phone.” She squirmed on the gurney, trying to get her phone from her coat pocket. Her head pounded and her stomach surged with nausea. “Shit, did I lose it?”

  “Lieutenant, you need to stay still. You could have a concussion.”

  Having suffered a concussion in the car accident a few short weeks ago, Sam could’ve diagnosed that herself. Nick would be seriously pissed. “I really need a phone. I swear I won’t move if you let me borrow yours.” She had once promised Nick she’d call him the minute she could any time something crazy happened at work. Unfortunately, she’d had to keep that promise far more often than either of them liked.

  Uttering a sigh, the paramedic produced a touch-screen cell phone.

  “I don’t know what to do with that. Will you dial a number for me?”

  “Maybe after that I can do your nails for you too.”

  “I do need a manicure for my wedding.”

  He laughed. “What’s the number?”

  Sam rattled off Nick’s cell number, praying he’d take the call from a number he didn’t recognize. “Come on, come on, pick up.” When she reached his voicemail, Sam handed the phone back to the paramedic. “Call again. Please.”

  Frowning at her, the paramedic redialed.

  “Come on, Nick. Pick up.”

  Nick spent the morning in meetings with his campaign team, but couldn’t concentrate on work as he thought about the previous evening. Whatever Sam dreamed about had frightened her deeply, and that had rattled him.

  And when he thought about that freak Gardner and what he’d done to that poor girl… He shuddered remembering those photos. Asking Sam not to pursue the case against Gardner wasn’t something he’d done lightly. He also knew it wasn’t something he could do again any time soon.

  All morning he’d had a bad feeling nagging at him. She’d promised she wouldn’t go after Gardner for the rape of that girl. On the way into the office it had dawned on him that he’d failed to include investigating what role Gardner might’ve played in her father’s shooting in his wedding week moratorium.

  “Senator?”

  Startled, he looked up at Christina, his chief of staff. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  “We’re talking about your latest numbers in southern Virginia. We need to spend more time in Norfolk, Newport News and Virginia Beach after your vacation.”

  Nick’s BlackBerry buzzed in his pocket. “Excuse me.” He checked the caller ID, didn’t recognize the number and returned the phone to his pocket. “What’s the issue in that area?”

  “Heavy concentration of military,” the head pollster said. “Because you’ve never served—”

  The phone buzzed again. “Sorry,” Nick mumbled. “Crazy week.” Normally, he’d never bother with his phone during a meeting, but there was that feeling he just couldn’t shake. He glanced at the caller ID, saw the same number as before and took the call.

  “Nick Cappuano.”

  “Oh thank goodness you answered.”

  “Samantha?”

  “Something happened, but I’m fine.”

  Nick sat up straighter in his seat. “What happened?”

  “Freddie and I got shot at, and I smacked my head. They’re taking me in to get it checked.” He heard her ask someone which hospital they were taking her to.

  “Going to GW,” she said to Nick. “It’s no biggie. Coupla stitches maybe. Won’t show on Saturday.”

  “Who shot at you?” Nick asked, taking in the stunned expressions on his staffers’ faces. Why couldn’t he have fallen for an accountant?

  “We went to talk to Gardner about my father’s shooting, and he was not happy to see us. The good news is now we’ve got him on charges that’ll stick. Even he can’t wiggle out of shooting at cops.”

  Nick watched as Christina signaled to the others to step out of the office. When the door shut behind them, he said, “I thought you were going to stay away from him.”

  “I never mentioned the rape.”

  “Well, that’s good of you. You stuck to the letter of our agreement. I appreciate that.”

  “You’re pissed.”

  “You knew I would be.”

  He heard her release a deep sigh. “I needed to ask him about my father’s shooting.”

  “And look at where that got you—yet another trip to the ER, the week of our wedding, no less.”

  “The last time wasn’t my fault. You’ll recall that the gang members were gunning for us.”

  “I don’t appreciate you making light of this, Samantha.”

  “I’m not making light. I have to go. We’re almost there. I’ll see you at home.”

  “I’m coming to get you. Don’t move from that hospital until I get there.” He ended the call before she could put up an argument.

  For a long time he sat there, riveted by overwhelming anger and impotence. There wasn’t a goddamned thing he could do to keep her safe. He thought he’d accepted that new fact of his life, but apparently he hadn’t. Not if the fury he was experiencing at the moment was a
ny indication. The last thing they needed the week of their wedding was a big, fat fight, but as he left the Capitol and headed for the GW Emergency Room, he feared that’s exactly what was going to happen.

  Freddie leaned in for a closer look at the cut on Sam’s head and winced. “I feel so bad. I never noticed the rock.”

  “Since you probably saved both our lives, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “I saw the gun move and just reacted.”

  “You did good. I heard you were like a superhero out there.”

  “Nah,” he said, brushing off the compliment. “Nick’s gonna be pissed at me for getting you hurt this week.”

  “I imagine he’ll join me in thanking you for making sure I didn’t get killed.” She looked up at her ashen-faced partner. “Tell me you’ve got Gardner in custody.”

  “On his way to HQ as we speak.”

  “Is Captain Malone here?” Sam asked.

  “In the waiting room.”

  “Go get him for me, will you?”

  “Sure.” Freddie reached into his coat pocket, withdrew Sam’s phone and handed it to her. “Found it after the paramedics carted you away.”

  “Oh good. I was wondering where it was.”

  “I’ll send Malone in.”

  Sam closed her eyes and focused on remaining as still as possible to calm the relentless pounding in her head. The doctor had ordered a CT scan to confirm the concussion, which Sam had told him was a waste of time. He’d also indicated the need for five or six staples to close the wound. Fabulous. She wondered if Tinker Bell had ever had a bride with staples in her head before. The thought of asking her would’ve made Sam want to laugh if her head hadn’t been pounding.

  Captain Malone stepped into the room. “This is beginning to be a disturbing pattern, Lieutenant. I’ve heard they’re giving you a frequent-flyer card.”

  “That’s very funny. Ha. Ha.”

  He smiled and leaned in for a closer look at the injury. “At least it won’t show in the pictures.”

  “For which I’m grateful. Listen, I need you to do something for me.”

  “As always, Lieutenant, I am at your service.”

  “I have to tell you something that has to be handled with the utmost discretion. The career of a colleague and friend hangs in the balance.”

  His expression turned serious. “Understood.”

  She told him about Gardner’s threats toward Faith Miller and the rape case that had never been prosecuted. “The victim was nineteen at the time and refused to testify. She’s older now, and he’s locked up. Someone needs to talk to her, compel her to testify.”

  “I’ll see to it.”

  “Bring Forrester in on the new charges,” she said of the U.S. attorney. “I don’t want Gardner sliding through again.”

  “He took a shot at two cops and just missed you both,” Malone said. “He’s not getting away with that.”

  “You’ll take it right to Forrester?”

  Malone nodded.

  “Let’s nail him on the whole package this time.” As Sam’s burst of energy began to fade, she closed her eyes to seek relief from the relentless pounding. “I also want to know where he was on December 28, 2008.”

  “We’ll find out,” Malone assured her.

  “His buddy Simmons too. Someone left that stuff about my father’s shooting in Reece’s house. I want to know who.”

  “You take it easy. We’re on it.”

  Sam looked up at him. “There’s something about this Gardner guy. I’ve never had such a strong feeling about any suspect since my dad was shot.”

  “If he did it, Sam, we’ll get him.”

  She appreciated the fierce tone of his voice. She wasn’t the only one who desperately wanted to catch her father’s shooter. He had a police department full of friends who’d like five minutes alone with the person who’d condemned him to life in a wheelchair. “Thanks.”

  “Get some rest,” Malone said. “I’ll check on you later.”

  Sam heard the captain exchange greetings with Nick in the hallway and braced herself to deal with her furious fiancé.

  Nick came into the room and stopped short as he took a visual inventory of her and the blood-soaked coat on the chair next to her.

  Sam held out a hand to him. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  He stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around hers. “I heard it was a very close call.”

  “Nah, he missed by a mile.”

  “I’m not finding this funny.”

  Sam brought his hand to her lips. “I know, babe. I’m sorry.”

  “If there’s any upside, at least you’ll be out of work the rest of the week.”

  “But I still have stuff to do before—”

  “On the way over here I had to talk myself out of picking a big, fat fight with you the week of our wedding. But if you so much as think about going back to work, there’s gonna be a really big fight. You got me?”

  “I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again, but you’re extremely sexy when you’re pissed.”

  He took a deep, rattling breath and looked up at the ceiling, presumably to keep from throttling her.

  Sam smiled at his show of restraint. “I didn’t get all freaked out when Andy’s elbow gave you a black eye,” she said in a teasing tone, hoping to coax a grin out of him.

  The comment earned her another scowl. “Only you would compare a basketball injury to getting shot at.”

  “Love you,” she said, flashing her cheesiest grin.

  Rolling his eyes, he bent to kiss her. “If I have to swaddle you in bubble wrap to get you to that church in one piece, I’ll do it.”

  Sam reached up to comb her fingers through his hair. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Don’t worry.”

  “Right. Don’t worry. What do I have to worry about?”

  She urged him into another kiss. “Nothing at all. I promise.”

  “Gardner lawyered up,” Detective Tommy “Gonzo” Gonzales informed Freddie when he arrived at HQ. “Won’t say a word.”

  “Figures. The guilty ones always lawyer up right away. Where is he?”

  “Back in holding until they arraign him in the morning.”

  “What about Simmons?”

  “He caught wind of what we wanted to talk to him about and produced travel documents that show he was in New Orleans visiting his family for the holidays when Skip was shot.”

  “Crap.”

  “How do we find out where Gardner was?”

  “We’re running his credit cards now, seeing what we can find out about his activity that week.”

  “Sam wants us to talk to the woman he raped. She refused to testify when it happened, but Sam thinks because she’s older now…” Freddie shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They found Leticia Nixon working at a daycare center in Washington Heights. Oblivious to their presence, she sang with animated hand gestures as she entertained a classroom full of three-year-olds. Laughing, she looked up and saw them watching her. The smile fled from her face, and the animated young woman transformed into a scared child right before their eyes.

  Freddie signaled to her, asking for a minute of her time.

  She turned her class over to the second teacher in the room and made her way to the back of the room. “What do you want?”

  “I’m Detective Cruz. This is Detective Gonzales. We wondered if we could speak to you outside.”

  She pushed through the double doors and led them through the foyer to the parking lot out front. “Is this about Gardner?”

  “How did you know?” Gonzo asked.

  Leticia shrugged. “No other reason cops would want to talk to me. What’d he do this time?”

  “He shot at me and my partner this morning,” Freddie said.

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “We know he threatened you to keep you from testifying,” Gonzo said.

  Her eyes flashed with anger
and then defeat. “You don’t know the half of what he did to me.”

  “We’ve got him, Leticia,” Freddie said. “He’ll do hard time for shooting at cops.”

  “So what do you want with me?”

  “This is your chance for justice. This is your chance to see him pay for what he did to you.”

  She bit her lip and shook her head. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

  “You’re willing to let him get away with it?” Freddie asked.

  She eyed him with disdain. “He’s gotten away with it for more than two years. He gets away with it every time I’m afraid to step foot out my front door and every time I refuse to go out with another guy for fear of it happening again. He won the second he took my virginity from me and filled my mind with violent images that are with me every second of every day.”

  “Let us help you,” Gonzo said.

  “Thank you, but I’m fine knowing he’s off the streets and behind bars. That’s enough for me.”

  “Did you ever hear him brag about shooting a cop?” Freddie asked.

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “I try not to think about that time in my life.”

  Freddie handed her his card. “The father of our lieutenant was left a quadriplegic in that shooting. If you remember anything that might help our investigation, please give me a call.”

  Taking the card, she said, “I need to get back to work.” She walked away and disappeared into the cheerful-looking building.

  “Well, that was unproductive,” Gonzo said.

  “You never know. She might come around.” Freddie checked his watch. “I have something I need to take care of. I’ll meet you back at HQ.”

  “Want me to drop you somewhere?”

  “Nah, I’ll take the Metro.”

  “See you back at the house.”

  Long after Gonzo drove off, Freddie stood there thinking over what Sam had said that morning. Getting shot at—again—had helped to bring things into perspective for him. Life was too short to spend it wishing for something he could have if he was willing to make some concessions. The thought of seeing Elin, of holding her and making love with her had him jogging for the nearest Metro station. If he got lucky, he’d catch her leaving the gym where she worked to take her lunch hour. She always went at two.