Chapter Thirty
Sam got out of the SUV and was met by a scrum of reporters wanting an update on the Beauclair case. They also shouted questions about Nick’s trip and whether she was going with him. She took one minute she didn’t have to give them a brief update on the case.
“We’re making headway in the Beauclair case, and I expect to have more for you later today.”
“Are you going on the vice president’s trip to Europe?” one of the TV reporters asked.
“Info about his trip is available from his office, and you may as well stop wasting your breath asking me about him, his job, his travels. I’m never going to answer those questions. Have a good day.”
“Lieutenant! Wait!”
Sam ignored their cries for more info and darted inside HQ, breathing a sigh of relief when she reached the relative safety of the lobby.
Her relief was short-lived, however, when she encountered Malone engaged in a screaming match with Ramsey, who had his back to her.
This day got more interesting by the minute.
Sam wished she had some popcorn to enjoy while she listened to Malone rip Ramsey a new one.
“Get over it, Sergeant. The USA declined to press charges.”
“Because she’s married to the fucking vice president, not because she didn’t do it!”
“I’m going to tell you this one more time—if you can’t keep your grievances out of this building, you won’t work in this building. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yeah, you do, and it’s no surprise to me that she’s probably sucking your dick, too.”
“That’s it. Get out.”
“I have rights. You can’t just kick me out.”
“Get out,” Malone said in a tone Sam had never heard before, “or I’ll have you arrested. Your choice.”
“You’ll be hearing from my union rep.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Ramsey spun around to leave and came face-to-face with Sam, watching the show.
She smiled and waggled her fingers.
Like a bull seeing red, he charged her.
She darted out of the way in time to avoid him barging into her, but the forward momentum took him right through the window next to the door, which shattered on impact.
Glass rained down upon the red-faced sergeant, who quickly became the subject of interest to the reporters and photographers stationed outside the door.
“That’ll be the lead story on the six o’clock news,” Sam said to Malone.
“Walk away, Lieutenant,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just walk away.”
For once, Sam did as she was told, whistling a jaunty tune as she made her way to the detectives’ pit. Her day had already been made, and she had a good feeling it was about to get even better.
Freddie, Cameron and Jeannie arrived at the pizza shop, Rolling in Dough, which had a lunchtime line out the door.
“What’s the plan?” Cameron asked.
“Let’s call for backup,” Freddie said, eyeing the layout of the restaurant. “I want someone minding the back door before we go in.”
Jeannie made the call, and while they waited for Patrol, they kept a watchful eye on the restaurant.
“This is our guy,” she said, calling up a photo of a skinny white man with blond hair on her phone.
“Danny Baker. He’s got a long list of priors, mostly petty stuff, but he’s been working his way up the criminal food chain. ”
“He has that in common with his buddy Klein,” Freddie said.
When the Patrol officers arrived, Freddie asked them to cover the restaurant’s back door in case Baker was stupid enough to run.
Freddie hoped he would, so they could take him into custody and get him into interrogation.
Being arrested, processed and interrogated at HQ tended to loosen even the tightest of lips.
With everyone in position, Freddie gave the go-ahead.
He walked in first, excusing himself as he worked around the line of people who grumbled about line cutters.
Flashing his badge, he shut them up as he went up to the counter.
“Detectives Cruz, Green and McBride, Metro PD. Looking for Danny Baker.”
The wide-eyed woman working the register spun around and focused on a lanky guy in the back who was spinning dough. “Danny!”
He looked her way, saw cops with badges, dropped the dough to the floor and bolted for the back door.
Freddie jumped the counter, crashed into a woman carrying a tray of large sodas and took down Baker, in the span of about ten seconds.
Hearing the commotion inside, the Patrol officers opened the back door and looked in to find Freddie, knee in Baker’s back, cuffing him as he recited his rights. All in a day’s work.
“Nice takedown,” Cameron said when he and Jeannie caught up.
“What’d he do?” an older man with a beer belly and a comb-over asked. He wore a flour-stained red apron with the restaurant’s logo on it.
“I didn’t do nothing!” Baker said as Freddie hauled him to his feet, recited his rights and turned him over to the Patrol officers.
“Get him downtown and let me know when he’s in interrogation.”
“Is he in big trouble?” the man asked.
“Remains to be seen but running from cops is never a good idea.” Freddie’s stomach let out a loud grumble. “You got a large pie I could buy?”
The man boxed a pizza right out of the oven and handed it to Freddie. “On the house, if you wouldn’t mind getting outta my kitchen.”
“Don’t mind at all. Thanks.”
They left out the back door and returned to Cameron’s sedan, which he kept immaculate. Freddie hoped he’d be allowed to scarf down some pizza in the car, because he wasn’t inclined to wait until they got back to the house. He needed food, and he needed it now.
“That was a hell of a leap,” Jeannie said when they were back in the car.
“I’m motivated to close this case before the wedding.” Freddie dived into the pie as he realized he’d forgotten to grab napkins. Oh well, that’s what T-shirts were for. “You want a slice?”
“I’d love one.”
Freddie handed over a slice to her in the front seat. “Cam?”
“I’ll wait until we get back.” He looked in the rearview mirror. “Don’t get it all over my car.”
“I’ll try not to.” Freddie ate three slices in the time it took to drive across the city. They were two blocks from HQ when he took a call from his mother. “Hey, what’s up?”
“The news is reporting that Sam was grazed by a bullet. Is she okay? Are you?”
“We’re both fine.”
“Oh thank goodness. I tell you—sometimes I’m afraid to look at the news, knowing you’re out there in the middle of the madness.”
“Right now, I’m eating pizza in the back of my colleague’s car after a very satisfying arrest. All is well.”
“Two more days, Freddie. I can’t wait to dance at your wedding.”
“Neither can I. Hey, Mom, can you do me a favor and grab my tux? I haven’t had a chance to do it yet, and Elin is going to kill me if I don’t get it soon.”
“I’ll take care of it, honey. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
“I will, thanks.”
“Love you.”
“You, too.”
“Is Mama Cruz feeling anxious?” Jeannie asked.
“Just a little.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something happening outside the main doors. “What’s up over there?”
“Let’s go find out,” Green said, taking the first available parking space.
“Holy crap,” Freddie said when he saw Ramsey lying in a sea of shattered glass.
“I hope Sam had nothing to do with this.” Still carrying the pizza box, he made his way around the building to the morgue entrance with Jeannie and Cameron in pursuit.
They found the LT in her office, cheerfully attending to administrative tasks.
Her cheerfulness put Freddie on alert. “What’d you do now? ”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Ramsey and the shattered glass. Don’t tell me you had nothing to do with that.”
“You’re so suspicious.” Sam told them what’d happened.
Freddie hooted with laughter. “I knew it had something to do with you!”
“I didn’t do anything. I happened to be standing there.”
Freddie laughed so hard tears filled his eyes.
“Quit your laughing and tell me you got Baker.”
“We got him, and he should be in interrogation any minute.”
“Excellent. Let’s get this wrapped up. But first, give me a piece of that pizza.”
Sam made sure Hope Miller, one of the identical triplets that served the District as assistant U.S. attorneys, observed the interrogation along with Captain Malone.
Baker was so nervous his hands shook and his pale cheek twitched.
Good, she thought. That’ll make this a hell of a lot easier than it is with the arrogant ones who aren’t afraid of anything. She could work Baker’s fear to her advantage.
“Danny Baker,” she said upon entering the room with Cruz right behind her.
Baker nearly jumped out of his pants.
The Patrolman who’d been watching over him stepped out.
While Freddie engaged the recording device, Sam said, “I’m Lieutenant Holland, and I believe you’ve met Detective Cruz.”
Baker’s brows narrowed with displeasure at the sight of Freddie.
After she recited the details of who was present for the record, she said, “You’ve been apprised of your rights in this matter?”
“Yeah.”
“I heard you tried to run from my officers. Why’d you do that?”
Baker crossed his arms and returned her steely stare with one of his own. “I want my lawyer.”
Sam and Freddie stood. “We’ll go talk to Victor, then, and see what he has to say about what went down at the Beauclairs’ house,” Sam said.
“But then again, we already know he had a traffic altercation with Cleo Beauclair and decided to pay the rich lady a visit. We’ll see what he has to say about how he got you involved.
Of course, if he cooperates with us, that’ll leave you out in the cold, but that doesn’t matter to us.
As long as we find out what happened that night in Chevy Chase. ”
“Wait.”
Sam had her hand on the doorknob. Suppressing a smile, she turned back to note that what little color Baker had in his cheeks was gone now. Raising a brow, she waited for him to speak.
“What do you want to know?”
“You’ve requested an attorney. We’re not able to speak further with you.”
“I don’t want a lawyer. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”