Chapter Five #2
She reached up to frame his face with her hands. “I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know why—”
He kissed the words right off her lips, tightening his arm around her and lifting her to walk her into the bedroom.
Since Sam had kept her eyes open, she saw the Secret Service agent who’d come on duty avert his gaze before Nick kicked the door shut. She began to laugh and couldn’t stop.
“What’s so funny?” he asked as he came down on top of her on their bed. “That was some of my best work, and I have to say your laughter wounds me.”
Sam only laughed harder. “The poor agent is scarred for life after that demonstration.”
“They’ve never had to protect a vice president who’s as hot for his wife as this one is.” He kissed her neck and made her shiver from the sensations that rippled through her. As always, his touch electrified her, but weighing heavily on her mind was the meeting she’d agreed to with Harry.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on him, to let him carry her away from all her cares, if only for a short time.
“What?” he asked softly. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I can’t think about anything other than Harry and that appointment.”
Nick dropped his head to her chest. “So my best work isn’t having the desired effect?”
“It’s not you. I hope you know that. God, it’s so not you.”
“I know, baby.” He kissed her lips with tenderness that slayed her. “Rain check?”
“Absolutely.” She looked up at him gazing down at her with love and concern. “Could we maybe…”
“What? Anything.”
“Hold me for a while?”
“For as long as you want.”
“Don’t you have a country to run?”
“The country can wait. My wife needs me to hold her, and that is the most important thing on my to-do list today.”
Outside the intensive care unit at GW, Gonzo pressed the call button, flashed his badge and waited to be buzzed in. The nurses were busy, so it took a minute, which gave him enough time to prepare his case to be allowed to speak to one of their patients.
“Didn’t we already talk to this guy?” Detective Arnold asked.
“Yep.”
“So what’re we doing here again?”
“The lieutenant always says when we hit a dead end, go back and start over. That’s what we’re doing.”
A buzzer sounded and the doors slid open. “What can I do for you?” a nurse asked in a harried tone.
“I need to speak with Mr. Enright.”
“This isn’t a good time. He’s had a rough night.”
“We won’t keep him long,” Gonzo said. “I promise. If it wasn’t critical that we speak with him, we wouldn’t be here.”
She hesitated for a moment and then said, “Just one of you. Follow me.”
“Wait here,” Gonzo said to Arnold, pointing to the waiting area.
Arnold frowned at him, obviously miffed at being left out.
Too bad. The last thing Gonzo had time to deal with right now was fragile egos.
He followed the nurse to the room where Enright was attached to wires and tubes and machines.
Upon spotting the nurse outside the door, his father jumped up from his post next to the bed and came out of the room. “He’s in pain.”
“He’s not due for more pain meds for a couple of hours yet.”
“Hours? He needs it now.”
“I’ll call the doctor.”
“Who’s this guy?”
“Detective Sergeant Gonzales.” Gonzo flashed his gold shield. “Metro PD.”
“What do you want? He’s already been interviewed. He told the other detectives everything he knew.”
“I’d like a few minutes with him to go over it again.”
Enright senior shook his head. “Not now. He’s not good.”
“He’s stable, Mr. Enright,” the nurse said, earning points with Gonzo.
“I’ll be as quick as I possibly can,” Gonzo said.
“Fine, ten minutes, but no more.”
Before the guy could change his mind, Gonzo entered the room, stopping at the bedside of twenty-seven-year-old William Enright, an associate at a graphic design and marketing firm called Griffen + Smoltz in Georgetown.
When he opened his eyes and looked up, Gonzo could see the pain in his eyes. William licked dry, cracked lips. “Who’re you?” His voice was rough and hard to hear.
“Sergeant Gonzales from the Metro PD. I had a couple of follow-up questions I hoped you could help me with if you’re feeling up to it.”
“I already told the other lady detective everything I know.”
“Detective McBride said you were very helpful. I have to be honest with you—we’ve hit a brick wall in this investigation.
We’re getting nowhere fast. When that happens, we’ve found it works best to go back with fresh eyes and start over.
I know you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, but if you wouldn’t mind walking me through the attack one more time, it might help to catch this guy. ”
“What do you want to know?”
Gonzo pulled a notebook and pen from his coat pocket. “Tell me what you remember about the minutes leading up to the attack. Where you were, where you’d been, where you were going.”
“I was out with some friends downtown.”
“Where exactly were you?”
“At a bar on 14th Street.”
“Do you remember the name?”
“Desi’s, I think?”
“I know that place. It’s new, upscale. Right?”
“That’s it.”
“Who were you with?”
William moved to find a more comfortable position and winced.
“You don’t have to do this now, son,” his father said from behind Gonzo.
“I’m okay, Dad. I’d rather get it over with.” To Gonzo, he said, “I was with people from work. One of the guys is getting married next week, and we took him out for happy hour. It was a good excuse to hit up a place we’d heard a lot about lately.”
“The group at work is close-knit?”
“We put in a lot of hours together every week. They’re good people.”
“Did you leave alone?”
“Yeah, I had a basketball game in the morning, so I wanted to get some sleep. They were staying for one more round.”
“So you left the bar and grabbed the Metro?”
“Yeah. I got off at NoMa and was walking home, hurrying because it was freezing. Someone grabbed my right arm and spun me around. The next thing I remember was pain and a struggle and blood everywhere. I didn’t realize I’d been stabbed until it was over and he was gone.”
“You’re sure it was a guy?”
“Absolutely. He was big and very muscular. I remember that much.”
“Your initial report stated that he was wearing a mask or something over his face?”
“I assume he was. I never caught a glimpse of his face.”
“Was anyone else around on the street?”
“Not that I remember, but someone must’ve come along and called EMS. The next thing I remember is being here.”
“Were you having problems with anyone in your life? Roommate, girlfriend, boyfriend, an ex, a client, a—”
“There was a client who got mad when we refused to design a website he wanted us to do.”
“What kind of client?”
“At first, he was friendly, having us build a site for his T-shirt business, but as we got deeper into the project, I suspected the site was going to be used for something other than T-shirts.”
“Did you know what he had in mind?”
“Not really, but he kept asking me weird questions about chat rooms and webcams and stuff like that, and it rang some bells for me. I mean, what does a guy who sells T-shirts want with webcams and chat rooms on his website? So I mentioned it to the art director, who took it to the managing partner. They agreed it was weird and decided to drop him as a client.”
Gonzo experienced a burst of excitement at the first possible break in the case. This, right here, was why they went back and retraced their steps. “Can you give me his name?”
“An Italian guy named Giuseppe Besozzi. It was funny, though, one of my colleagues thought he was pretending to be from Italy. My friend has spent time there, and he swore the guy’s accent was fake, which was another thing that nagged at me after he started asking about webcams.”
“What else can you tell me about him?”
“The managing partner at the firm could probably tell you more. He’s the one who lands the accounts and manages the clients. We do the work.”
“Would Besozzi have known you were the one to blow the whistle on him?”
“He… Yeah, I guess he would know it came from me.”
“And does he match the physical description of the man who attacked you?”
“Giuseppe is tall but I don’t think of him as particularly muscular like that guy was, but who knows? Maybe he’s tougher than he looks.”
Gonzo took down the name and address of the firm as well as the name and contact info for the managing partner. “This has been incredibly helpful, William. I appreciate your help.”
“You think Giuseppe could be behind this?”
“I don’t know yet, but you can bet we’ll be looking into him. You’ve given me something I didn’t have before—a lead.”
“I hope it helps and you can find the person doing this. No one should have to go through this.”
“I completely agree, and we’re going to find him and make him pay.”
“Come back if you need me for anything else. Whatever I can do to help.”
“I appreciate that. I hope you’re feeling much better soon.”
“So do I.”
On the way out of the room, Gonzo shook hands with Enright’s father. “Thank you,” he said.
Nodding, the man said, “Get this guy.”
“We’re doing everything we can. We’ll keep you posted.” He left the room and gestured for Arnold to come with him. Clearing the ICU doors, Gonzo called Malone. “We need an officer outside Enright’s door at GW ICU in case his attacker tries to finish the job,” Gonzo said.
“What gives you reason to believe he might?”
“Some new information.” He brought Malone up to speed on what Enright had told him about his ex-client and asked him to do a run on Besozzi. “Let me know if anything pops and see if you can get me a local address.”
“On it,” Malone said. “And I’ll get someone over to GW right away. What about the other victim?”
“He’s still in the hospital, so let’s get someone on him, too. I’m going to Enright’s office now.”
“Let me know what you find out, and I’ll get back to you with anything I find on Besozzi.”
Gonzo walked so fast to the parking lot that Arnold scrambled to keep up.
“Where we going now?” Arnold asked.
“To the offices of the graphic design firm where Enright works. We might finally have something.” Gonzo could only hope so.
He needed to close this baffling case, not only for the affected victims and their families, but so he could finally marry the love of his life.
It was also important that he make Sam proud while he was covering for her.
He’d never had better incentive to close a case.