06 Fatal Mistake (28 page)

“Can’t say I blame her.”

“People are ridiculous,” Sam said as they crossed the parking lot to the far end of the building.

“In general or in particular?”

Sam slid into the driver’s seat. “In general. She comes in here with information about a woman who’s banging our murder victim, and she thinks we’re not going to do anything about that?”

“I don’t think she gave it much thought beyond coming in and telling us what she knew.”

“Clearly. Did you hear if Hill found anything in Willie’s financials?”

“Nothing yet, but he was just getting started when I last saw him.”

“Anything new with your dad?”

Freddie glanced over at her, seeming surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. “Elin and I had dinner with them last night. He’s...very... I don’t how to describe it. He’s almost too enthusiastic about everything. Full of grandiose plans and ideas.”

“You think he’s manic again?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Freddie said with a sigh. “From everything I’ve read about the disorder, soaring highs and crushing lows are to be expected.”

“What does Elin think?”

“She responds to him the same way my mom does.”

“And how is that?”

“Like everything he does and says is fabulous. I feel like I’m the only one wondering if his behavior is normal. Elin thinks I’m looking for trouble where there isn’t any.”

“If you want my opinion...”

“I do. You know I do.”

“You have good instincts about people and situations. Trust them. If your gut is telling you something is off, keep an eye on it as best you can.”

“That’s good advice. I wish I could talk to my mom about it without him around, but they’re joined at the hip. They’re even sharing her cell phone. Who does that anymore?”

“Does she seem happy?”

“I’ve never seen her so happy. Since he’s been back, I feel like I’m seeing someone I’ve never met before in her. She never stopped loving him in all the years he was gone. I don’t want to do anything to take away from her happiness. No one deserves it more than she does.”

“But...”

“I’m worried about what’ll become of her if he has another episode.”

“That’s a reasonable fear. All you can do is keep a close eye on it and be there for her if she needs you.”

“Thanks, Sam. It helps to be able to talk to someone who doesn’t think I’m ridiculous for being concerned.”

“You’re not ridiculous.”

They arrived at motel to find it surrounded by police vehicles. The medical examiner’s van pulled up a minute after they did. Lindsey walked with Sam and Freddie up the stairs to the second floor where a crowd had gathered outside room sixteen.

They entered the messy room where a Caucasian male, approximately six foot five or six inches, was lying facedown on the bed in a pool of blood. Lindsey handed Sam a pair of gloves. “Let’s turn him over.”

The two women worked together to turn the big man, gasping when they realized it was Rick Lind.

“Shit,” Sam said, even though this discovery made her job slightly easier. Like Willie, Rick had been stabbed once in the chest, which connected the two murders and ruled out the possibility of a random attack by an outraged fan. “Cruz, get CSU over here.”

“Already on the way.”

Chapter Sixteen

Sam stepped back to allow Lindsey and her crew to prepare the victim for transport to the morgue. Glancing around the hotel room, she saw no obvious signs of struggle, which led her to believe Lind had been attacked in his sleep or by someone he knew. The room’s surfaces were littered with pizza boxes, discarded takeout wrappers, beer cans and drug paraphernalia. Sam didn’t touch any of it, leaving it for CSU to process. She peered under the bed and choked back a gag when she realized there were used condoms under there.

Rick Lind had gone on one hell of a bender after his team lost the big game.

She moved over to the door, which bore obvious signs of damage from whatever tool was used to pry it open.

A group of maids was standing outside the room in a tight cluster. One of them was crying.

“Was the door open when you found him?”

The one who’d been crying, who looked no more than sixteen or seventeen, nodded. “It was unusual for one of the doors to be standing open like that, so I looked inside and saw him.”

“What’s your name?”

Her gaze darted to one of the other girls, who was equally young, and the man who seemed to be standing guard over all of them. “Ginger,” she whispered. She had mousy brown hair that might be pretty if brushed and world-weary hazel eyes.

Sam took a closer look at the young woman, who seemed familiar to her. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Only because she was looking so closely at her did Sam recognize the second of stark, unadulterated fear that crossed her face in the instant before she said, “No.” The single word came out husky, and her tone was completely different than it had been only a minute before.

Acting on sheer instinct, Sam said, “I’ll need you to come downtown to make a statement.”

Ginger glanced at one of the other girls, the one who seemed equally afraid.

“You too,” Sam said to the second girl, a bottle blonde with blue eyes and bad skin.

Her big eyes took on a deer-in-the-headlights look. “What’d I do?”

“You were here. You might’ve seen something that would be helpful to the case.”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Still, I need your statement.”

“We have to work,” Ginger said, a tinge of hysteria in her voice. “If we don’t work, we don’t get paid.”

“We’ll square it with the boss, don’t worry.” Sam was suddenly desperate to get them away from the hotel and the angry glares of the other maids and the man who was their supervisor.

Both girls cast anxious glances at the man, who didn’t look at either of them.

“Who are you?” Sam asked him.

“The manager.”

“Your name?”

“Bruce Jones.”

“Is that your real name or did you make it up?”

His lip curled into a snarl that he wisely curbed. “Real.”

“How long ago did the guest in room sixteen check in?”

“After the game.”

“So you knew who he was?”

Bruce shrugged. “He was a frequent visitor.”

“Do you have video surveillance of the premises?” Sam asked, gazing at the next closest establishment across the street, which would be too far away to get a good view of the goings-on at the motel.

Bruce pointed to a video camera above the doorway. Wires were hanging from the rusty metal that held it to the wall. “Used to.”

“I’ll need to borrow these two ladies for a while. I’m sure you understand that they’re material witnesses, and as such shouldn’t be penalized for any time they miss.”

“Why you gotta take her?” he asked, nodding to the second one. “She said she didn’t see nothing.”

“I still need to question her.”

“Fine. Just make sure you bring them back. They’ve got a job to do.”

“I’ll take good care of them.”

While Freddie questioned people in nearby rooms about whether they’d heard anything coming from room sixteen, Sam accompanied the two trembling young women downstairs and helped them into the back of her car.

“I don’t understand why you’re taking us,” the first girl said, her chin quivering as she fought back tears.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. I promise you’ll be perfectly safe.” To the second girl, she said, “What’s your name?”

“Amber.”

“Is that your real name?”

Amber looked at Ginger.

“My real name is Sam Holland. I’m a lieutenant in the Metro Police Department. I want to help you.”

“You can’t help us,” Ginger said, her tone flat and full of despair. “No one can help us.”

After thirteen years on the job, Sam had learned to trust her instincts and all of them were on full alert. “This might be your lucky day, because if anyone can help you, I can, but you have to trust me, okay?”

Amber reached for Ginger’s hand and held on tight.

“Okay,” Ginger said.

Amber nodded in agreement.

“Sit tight,” Sam said. “I’ll be right back.” She shut the car door and gestured for Officer Beckett to join her. “Stay here and don’t let anyone get near them, you hear me?”

“You got it, LT.”

“If anyone tries to get them out of my car, shoot to maim.”

The young patrol officer’s eyes widened with surprise at her orders. “Yes, ma’am.”

Confident the girls were in good hands for the next few minutes, she went to help Cruz complete the canvas while Lindsey’s team photographed the scene and removed Lind’s body from the room.

“See you back at the house,” Lindsey said to Sam as she headed downstairs.

Sam and Freddie knocked on every door in the seedy motel but didn’t find anyone who’d heard a thing from room sixteen. They did, however, find a number of very young girls entertaining much older men.

“I need a shower,” Freddie muttered as they took the stairs to the parking lot.

“No kidding,” Sam said. She withdrew her cell phone from her pocket and placed a call to Malone. “The victim is Rick Lind,” she said when he came on the line.

He released a low whistle. “No shit. Wow.”

“We need Vice at the place where he was killed.” She gave him the address of the motel. “Someone’s running an underage prostitution racket here. I’ve got two of the younger girls in my car on the pretense of giving statements in the Vasquez case. I’m playing it cool for the moment, but we need to act fast before they bolt.”

“I’ll call it in right now. Good work, Lieutenant.”

“While you’re at it, do a run on a Bruce Jones. About forty, stocky, dark hair and eyes. He says he’s the manager of the motel.”

“Got it.”

“We’re going to notify Lind’s wife, and then we’ll be back to HQ with the girls.”

“What’s your plan there?”

“Not sure yet, but one of them looks really familiar. I had a feeling I needed to get them out of there.”

“Your feelings are usually worth paying attention to. See you when you get back.”

When Sam ended the call, Freddie let out a deep sigh. “Another wife to inform. I hate this case.”

“Me too.” Sam got into the car and turned to her passengers. After asking them to trust her, she didn’t feel right about sending them to HQ with someone else. “We have an errand to do in Bethesda, and then we’ll go to my office to talk, okay?”

Ginger nodded, her mouth set in a grim expression that belied her youth.

Taking her cues from Ginger, Amber followed suit.

“Just relax,” Sam added. “You’re not in any trouble. I promise.” She had a million questions to ask them, but wanted to be careful with two obviously fragile young women, who might even still qualify as girls.

In deference to their passengers, Sam and Freddie were quiet on the ride to Bethesda.

“Who was the guy in the motel room?” Ginger asked, breaking the silence.

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror. “Had you seen him before?”

Ginger lowered her eyes as her face flushed with color. “Once.”

Returning her attention to the road, she bit back the flood of questions she wanted to ask.

“Who was he?”

“Rick Lind, a relief pitcher with the D.C. Feds.”

“Oh.”

Sam looked in the mirror again and noted the sorrow etched into the young face staring back at her. She pressed harder on the gas pedal, wanting to get to Bethesda and back to HQ as soon as possible.

* * *

The drone of engines was the only sound in the guest section of
Air Force One
as it hurtled toward Bagram Air Force Base in Afghanistan. President Nelson and his entourage would meet with U.S. troops stationed in the war zone as well as the Afghani president. Nelson was locked in a dogfight with his Republican challenger, and the trip had been initiated to feature him as commander in chief in the waning days of the campaign.

Nick had never been on such a long flight, but the accommodations were so comfortable it was easy to forget he was on an airplane. He’d been given VIP treatment that included a tour of the president’s quarters in the front of the plane, an amazing gourmet meal and an extra box of the souvenir M&M’s signed by the president to give Scotty.

He couldn’t wait to tell his son all about the amazing airplane that ferried the president around and had been making notes of things he didn’t want to forget. Mostly he wanted to know how Scotty’s school day had gone and whether he’d had any more trouble with Nathan the bully. Nick wanted to know how Graham’s statement had gone over with the media and what Christina was hearing on the political front. And he really wished he could hear from his wife while he was away.

The lack of information was making him feel a bit twitchy, even though he understood the need for radio silence as the president jetted into a war zone. Despite what he’d said to Sam, Nick was a tiny bit anxious about the potential danger of landing in Afghanistan. They’d arrive under the cover of darkness, which offered a measure of comfort.

Nick heard a stir outside the guest cabin door before it opened to admit White House Chief of Staff Tom Hanigan. Roughly fifty with prematurely gray hair, Hanigan was intense and focused at all times.

“I apologize for disturbing you, Senator.”

“You’re not disturbing me.”

“The president would like a few minutes.”

Nick stood and ran his fingers through his hair, seeking to bring some order to it. “I’m wearing jeans. Is that okay?”

Hanigan spared him a rare smile. “So is he. Right this way.”

Outside the president’s suite, Hanigan stopped and turned to Nick. “How’s Derek?”

“Better.”

“We miss him. I hope he’ll come back to work after the election.”

“I think he will. He just needed some time to adjust to the new normal.”

“There are times when I hate this business,” Hanigan said. “Finding out what’d happened to Victoria—and why—was one of the worst moments of my career. And my life.”

“Mine too.”

“Let him know I’m thinking of him, will you?”

“I’d be happy to. I know he appreciates that you’ve held his job for him.”

“Of course we did. He’s the only one in the West Wing who can manage you people on the Hill.”

Nick laughed at the veiled insult, knowing it had been said in jest. “Ouch.”

Smiling, Hanigan knocked on the door to the president’s onboard office, which Nick had seen earlier, and led Nick into the room.

“Senator,” Nelson said, standing when Nick walked in. He extended a hand that Nick stepped forward to shake. To say it was surreal to be meeting with the president while in flight on
Air Force One
would be putting it mildly. “Thanks, Tom,” Nelson said. “I’ll take it from here.”

“As you wish, Mr. President.”

Hanigan departed, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Have a seat,” Nelson said, gesturing to two upholstered chairs that sat adjacent to the desk. “Drink?”

“I wouldn’t say no to some bourbon.”

“That sounds good to me too.”

The president poured them each a couple of fingers and handed one of the glasses to Nick. “Are you enjoying the trip so far?”

“It’s an incredible thrill. Thank you for inviting me to come along.”

“My pleasure.” Nelson was tall with silver hair and startling blue eyes that reminded Nick of Sam’s. He sat next to Nick. “I understand you’re tied up in this Lexicore business.”

“I take it Graham has made his statement.”

“Indeed. You did the right thing dumping the stock as soon as you heard about it. I think you’ll be okay with the voters. We’re hearing most investors were unaware of Lex’s ties to the factory in Thailand.”

“It disgusts me to have been part of what happened there, even in an indirect way.”

“Graham did a good job of conveying your grief over Senator O’Connor’s death and the money you came into afterward. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“And yet still I worry.”

“I can’t believe this is your first election. You’re a seasoned pro.”

“That’s quite a compliment coming from you, Mr. President.”

“Your family is well?”

“Yes, sir. The Secret Service is keeping a close eye on us in light of the threats Parsons’ supporters made after his arrest.”

“I understand you’ve added a son to the family.”

Nick smiled, thinking of Scotty and the happiness he’d brought to their lives. “Yes, a twelve-year-old who was in state custody in Virginia. I met him on a campaign stop in Richmond and was instantly captivated. He’s an amazing kid.”

“You’ve done a wonderful thing for him.”

“It’s nothing when compared to what he’s done for us.”

“Nick... Do you mind if I call you Nick?”

“By all means. Please.”

“I wanted to speak to you about something highly confidential. I hope I can count on your discretion.”

“Of course.”

Seeming troubled, Nelson took a drink from his glass. “Vice President Gooding has been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor.”

“Oh my God. That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“I am too. He and I go way back. I’m heartbroken for him and his family.” He glanced at Nick, his gaze piercing. “He’s going to resign after the election, which leaves me in need of a vice president. Your name has been mentioned many, many times, and I thought it was about time someone mentioned it to you.”

Nick stared at him, flabbergasted. Was he dreaming this? “Well, I... I have no idea what to say.”