Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“The mistake they made was in thinking Peter hated me enough to give up anything they wanted. What they failed to realize is that in his twisted mind, he loved me too much to ever give them anything that could be used to harm me.”
“But he tried to harm you on more than one occasion,” Gonzo said.
“Yes, he did, but to him it wasn’t about hating me.
It was about loving me and not wanting anyone else to have me.
Granted, it was a sick, twisted, perverted sort of love, but that was love to him.
” After a pause, she continued. “They wanted something they could put in that letter to Nick’s office that would lead investigators to Peter.
I think initially they were planning to pin the whole thing on him.
Apparently, he refused to give them something that could be used against me, which led them to torture him until he finally caved and gave them something they could use. By then he was all but dead.”
“I don’t get what their endgame was,” Malone said.
“When you add in the interview that Nick’s mother was probably paid big bucks to give that attempted to discredit our marriage and his paternity plus the info in Peter’s interview before he was killed, it all adds up to a conspiracy to cause trouble for me and mostly for Nick.”
“I have to be honest with you, Lieutenant,” Malone said. “I think it’s a stretch. Gibson was no choirboy. It’s very possible his death had nothing at all to do with you.”
“Yes,” Sam said with a sigh. She’d expected the pushback on her theory.
“It’s possible. But I think it had everything to do with me.
” And she hated that. “We haven’t uncovered anything in his recent life that would’ve led to torture.
Other than a possible connection to McTavish’s gambling ring that ended with McTavish’s arrest, from what we were able to piece together, he went to work, spent time with his colleague who wasn’t his girlfriend but was definitely a fuck buddy, played poker and went to ball games with his male friends.
From all reports he was trying to turn things around after a very rough couple of years.
While I won’t go so far as to suggest he’d found religion, it did seem that he’d finally realized how lucky he was not to be rotting away in prison and was trying to make a real change.
Perhaps seeing McTavish go down hard on charges finally scared him straight. ”
“My impression matches the lieutenant’s,” Cruz said.
Sam glanced at him, hoping he knew how much she appreciated his support.
“We’ve spent every night this week trying to find something in his recent dealings that would’ve provoked this sort of murder,” Carlucci said. “There’s nothing.”
“Our investigation into the threat against the vice president has also gone cold,” Avery said.
“We’ve dug into every threat that’s been received by us and the Secret Service since he took office and haven’t been able to make any connections to this one or to the Islamic faction that was tied to an earlier threat against Nelson. That didn’t pan out in this case.”
“That doesn’t mean the connections don’t exist,” Malone said.
“Granted,” Avery said, “but I believe the lieutenant’s theory is worth investigating further.”
“Beginning with picking up Fields,” Sam said. “I have a feeling he’s going to be the key to everything if we can get him to roll on the others.”
“I’ve learned to trust the lieutenant’s feelings on these matters,” Gonzo said.
“I tend to agree,” Farnsworth added.
“Let’s go get him,” Malone said.
Despite his misgivings, Sam could always count on her captain’s support, and she had a feeling she was going to need the support of the entire department before this case was closed.
They parked on Branch Avenue Southeast, around the corner from the Park Drive address they’d been given. It took about fifteen minutes to get everyone into position. Vests were donned, SWAT and Tactical Response teams were readied, and EMS was called in as a precaution.
After Sam received notification from the squad commanders that their people were ready, she gave the order to go in, leading the group of four that approached the front of the house. Cruz, Gonzo and Hill went in with her.
She pounded on the door. “MPD. Open up.”
No answer.
She pounded again. “MPD, Mr. Fields. We’d like to speak to you.”
A shout sounded from behind the house. “He’s running!”
Sam bounded down the stairs and took off running on Park Drive, toward Fort Stanton, catching up to Fields as he came out of the backyards.
He made the mistake of looking backward, and Sam played the advantage, pouring on the coal and grabbing him.
An approaching car wasn’t able to stop in time and the front corner connected with Sam’s hip, propelling her and Fields forward.
As they rolled across the hood of the car, Sam made sure to keep her tight grip on Fields.
They landed hard in the street on the other side of the car.
“Oh my God!” the driver cried as she jumped out of the car. “I couldn’t stop!”
Sam gritted her teeth against the pain of torn elbows and knees while using all her strength and weight to keep Fields pinned to the street.
“Christ, Sam,” Gonzo said when he caught up. “Are you all right?”
Her hip hurt like a son of a bitch, but that would have to wait. “Yeah. You got him?”
Gonzo cuffed Fields and recited his rights before hauling him to his feet.
Sam noticed he was bleeding from his forehead.
“Crazy motherfucking bitch,” he spit at Sam.
“You shouldn’t have run,” she said as she rose—painfully—to her feet.
“You’re bleeding,” Freddie said, taking her by the arm. “You need the paramedics.”
“I need to get back to HQ to question him.”
“He’ll be there when you get there.”
Sam let Freddie lead her around the corner to where the bus sat with paramedics at the ready.
“She went over the top of a car and landed in the street,” Freddie said.
“Other than the obvious, Lieutenant, any other injuries?” one of the paramedics asked. Another tended to the cut on Fields’s forehead.
“No.” Her hip hurt like a motherfucker, but she wasn’t telling them that. She grimaced as they cleaned the cuts on her elbows and knees.
“That fat fucking cow landed right on top of me,” Fields said. “I think she broke my ribs.”
“You wish,” Sam said. “Take him downtown. Straight to lockup.”
“I need the hospital.”
“Tell it to the judge.”
“I’m gonna fucking sue your ass.”
“Go for it.”
It took fifteen minutes Sam didn’t have for the paramedics to patch her up and send her on her way. She handed the keys to Freddie, happy to let him drive her to HQ.
“You’re walking funny,” he said.
“You’re gonna be walking funny if you make a thing of it.”
“What’d you hurt?”
“Nothing besides the obvious.”
“Liar.”
“Shut up.” By the time she was in the car, she’d broken into a cold sweat from the pain of her injuries. “Fucking hell.”
“What now?”
“Bridesmaid. With bandages.”
“Ouch,” Freddie said, wincing.
Gonzo waved them down. “I need a ride.”
“Hop in,” Sam said.
“She’s hurt worse than advertised,” Freddie said.
“I told you to shut up!”
“Since when do I do what you tell me to?”
“Yeah, that’s becoming a bigger problem all the time,” Sam said. “Remind me of that at annual review time, Gonzo.”
He snorted out a laugh from the backseat. “I’ll make a note.”
“Whatever,” Freddie said. “You guys don’t scare me.”
“Remember when he was scared shitless of us?” Gonzo said. “Those were the good old days.”
“I can’t figure out where we went so wrong with him,” Sam said. “He was such a nice boy.”
“Until I started hanging around with the likes of you two.”
“Is he insulting us?” Gonzo asked. “I can’t tell.”
“I think he might be. Add that to the list for review time, too.”
“Writing it down as we speak.”
“Still not scared.” Freddie looked over at her. “You’re sure you don’t need the ER?”
“I’m positive that if you drive us anywhere other than HQ, you’re fired.”
“This would be a good time to do what she says,” Gonzo added.
“I’m doing it. Do you see me heading for HQ and not the ER?”
“Drive faster,” Sam said. “We’ve got shit to do.”