Chapter Two
“Lieutenant Holland.”
“Lieutenant, we’ve received a report of a body found in a garage off MacArthur Boulevard in Kent.”
Sam ducked her head to see out the window to figure out where they were. Greenbelt, Maryland. “I’m about fifteen minutes outside the District. Have Patrol secure the scene until my team can get there. Don’t let anyone in or out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let them know I’ll be about an hour.”
“Will do.”
Sam slapped her flip phone closed and filled in the others. “Figures it had to be on the whole other side of the city.”
“Murder is inconvenient that way,” Nick said, “or so you tell me. And in an old familiar neighborhood.”
“Yes, it is.” Sam couldn’t bear to think of that area of town after she and her niece had both been assaulted in the Springer home. “This means you’re in charge of dinner, baths and bedtime.”
“I can handle it.”
“I know.”
He put his arm around her, and Sam took the minute with him while she could, disappointed she wouldn’t get to spend the evening with the kids when they got home.
Since Aubrey and Alden had come into their lives, Sam had a whole new appreciation for working mothers and the challenges of trying to balance it all.
It was tough, even with the tremendous help that Shelby provided, especially since the twins had joined their family.
Scotty had been quite a bit older than the twins, who’d soon be six, when he joined their family and much more self-sufficient from the get-go.
The motorcade pulled onto Ninth Street and stopped in front of the double townhouse Sam and Nick called home.
“Thanks for the lift,” Freddie said, kissing his wife and sending her home in his car while Jeannie said goodbye to Michael.
“Let me run in and get my stuff,” Sam said. “Be right back.”
Nick followed her up the ramp that had been installed for her late father so he could come visit them in his wheelchair. One of these days, they needed to see about removing the ramps at her house and his, three doors down. But not today.
A new agent was working the door and opened it for them.
“Good evening, Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Cappuano.”
“Evening, Henry,” Nick said.
Of course he knew the agent’s name. He knew everything.
Sam grabbed her keys from the hook in the kitchen where she kept them, ran upstairs to the master bedroom to retrieve her cuffs, weapon and notebook from the bedside table drawer and returned to the kitchen to speak to Nick.
“Tracy promised to have the kids home by six, and there’s leftover pizza from last night if you don’t feel like cooking. ”
“We’ll figure something out.”
Sam wanted to be there to help him figure it out, but duty called. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
He put his arms around her and kissed her. “Be careful with my cop. She means everything to me.”
“Take good care of my family. They mean everything to me.”
“I gotcha covered, babe. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll try to call the Littles before bedtime.”
“I won’t promise it in case it doesn’t happen. We’ll be fine.”
Sam had to pull herself away from him. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. Be safe.”
“I will.”
Henry opened the door and nodded to her, probably wondering who she thought she was, running around without her own detail.
She walked down the ramp to the sidewalk, where Freddie and Jeannie waited for her.
“All aboard,” Sam said.
They got into the tricked-out black BMW retrofitted for her as a surprise from Nick.
Sam joked that she could survive a nuclear explosion in that car, but it wasn’t far from the truth.
She used her flashers to get them across the city as quickly as possible, but Sunday-night traffic was light to begin with.
Sam took a call from Captain Malone when they were about five minutes out. “What’s up?”
“Heard we caught a new one and was checking in.”
“Not sure what we’ve got yet. I’ve got Cruz and McBride with me, and we’re almost there. We were on the way back from seeing Gonzo.”
“Let me know what you’ve got when you can.”
“Will do. Can we talk tomorrow about Gonzo?”
“What about him?”
“He’s about to accept a deal on misdemeanor drug charges.”
“I heard about that.”
“And you’re okay with it?” Sam had to remind herself that going ballistic with her boss wasn’t the best idea.
“I’m not thrilled with it, but it’ll take care of the problem and allow him to keep his job.”
“Without any chance of ever being promoted again? That’s complete bullshit, and you know it.”
“I do know it, but I also know there’re people within the department who aren’t going to let this go, and he’s better off to plead than have it become an even bigger deal. Especially right now when his sobriety is fragile. I talked to him. This is what he wants.”
“It’s freaking infuriating that he’s having to put up with this shit because of people who’re coming at me. This doesn’t even have anything to do with him.”
“He’s the one who scored pain meds on the streets, Sam. Not you.”
“You know as well as I do that the only reason he’s having to plead this out is because of Ramsey’s beef with me.”
“It might’ve come to light without Ramsey.”
“No one else is looking for shit to pin on my team.” Sam wasn’t sure how to process the sheer rage she felt at this drug charge putting the brakes on Gonzo’s career.
“I’m sorry. I agree it’s unfortunate. But it is what it is. While I have you, I wanted to remind you of the commanders’ meeting at zero eight hundred tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.” They were meeting with Special Agent in Charge Avery Hill and others from the FBI about the upcoming investigation of the department. “This job is nothing but nonstop fun lately.”
“That’s what we’re all about. Check in after you’re done at the scene.”
“Will do.” Sam closed the phone and wished it wouldn’t be such a hassle to get a new one, or she might be tempted to hurl it out the window.
The GPS on Freddie’s phone guided them to the exact address, a palatial house surrounded by public safety vehicles and gawking neighbors. Why did the neighbors always gawk? Sam wanted to ask them why they were so curious about murder.
“Get Patrol on the neighbors. I want them nowhere near here.”
As she got out of the car and made her way around the vehicles that blocked the driveway, she heard one of the gawkers say, “That’s the VP’s wife!”
“No pictures,” she said to the man who was reaching for his cell phone.
Sam was always concerned about saying or doing something that would embarrass Nick in his position as VP, but sometimes she didn’t care.
She was so pissed about the situation with Gonzo that she probably shouldn’t have been let out of the house.
But alas, murder didn’t wait for her to be in the right mood.
“What’ve we got?” she asked the female officer who met them at the yellow tape line. Sam noted her name tag read Phillips.
“Virginia ‘Ginny’ McLeod, age fifty-six, found in the garage by her husband, Kenneth, when he returned home from playing golf.”
“Where is he?”
“In the kitchen with my partner. I instructed him not to touch anything and to remain seated at the kitchen table until you arrived.”
“Excellent. Let me see the vic.”
“Sam,” Freddie said.
“I’ll be right with you,” she said to the officer as she stepped back to consult with her partner.
“Virginia McLeod is the woman we were talking about earlier who ripped off her friends,” Freddie said.
Sam processed that information as she signaled to the officer to lead the way. With Freddie and Jeannie following, Sam thought about what she’d heard earlier about this woman. How many people would’ve wanted her dead after she defrauded her own family and friends? Was it ten people or hundreds?
She would find out soon enough.
They walked past a navy-blue Mercedes sedan with District plates parked in the driveway.
In the garage, they encountered a bloodbath—on the floor, walls, ceiling, and splattered on the silver sedan parked on the far side. The victim was on the floor by the door that led into the house, surrounded by a massive pool of blood. The unmistakable smell of death filled the air.
“Any sign of a murder weapon?” Sam asked the officer, who was making an effort not to look at the victim. Once was probably enough.
“Not that we could find on a quick canvass.”
Whatever it was had been sharp and lethal, judging by the wounds to her face and neck. “Where’s Crime Scene?”
“On the way,” the officer said. “As is the medical examiner.”
“Good job, Officer Phillips. Watch for them while we go in to talk to the husband.”
The young officer hightailed it out of the garage, probably relieved to get away from the dead person.
“McBride, take a good look around the garage and the grounds for the weapon.”
“On it,” Jeannie said.
Sam and Freddie went into the house through a breezeway that connected the garage to the kitchen. A silver-haired man was sitting with another Patrol officer, this one a young man who jumped up when he saw Sam coming. She scanned his uniform and found his name tag. Jestings.
“Lieutenant, this is Kenneth McLeod. Mr. McLeod, Lieutenant Holland.”
“I know who she is. Everyone knows who she is.”
All righty, then, Sam thought. “Thank you, Officer Jestings. You can wait for us outside.”
The officer took off, leaving Sam and Freddie alone with the charming husband.
“If your first question is did I kill her, the answer is no, even though I had good reason to. I’m sure you know all about what she did, how she fucked over our family and friends.”
“When did you find that out?” Sam asked, taking a seat at the table while Freddie did the same.
“The same time everyone else did, when she was charged in federal court last week.”
“Prior to that, you had no idea?”
“None.”
“It must’ve made you pretty mad to find out that she’d defrauded people you call friends.”
“Mad,” he said with an ironic smile that made him look mean. “That’s one word for what I was. Do you have any idea what she did to my life? The people she stole from, some of them are my clients.”