Marie Force - Fatal Threat

“How do you know that?” Darren Tabor from the Washington Star shouted.

“Ms. Denton’s dental records were provided by her family, and they are not a match for the victim in our morgue.”

“Then who is she?” Darren asked.

“We’re working to identify her at this time.”

“Why was it deemed necessary for the Secret Service to take Lieutenant Holland from the scene at the river?” another reporter asked.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that.”

“Can you confirm it was the Secret Service who took her?”

“And where’s the vice president?” another asked. “The White House is refusing to confirm his whereabouts.”

“And you think I’m going to do that when they won’t?” Gonzo asked with a huff of incredulous laughter. “That’s it. We’re done here.”

While they continued to shout questions about the floater as well as Sam and Nick’s whereabouts, Gonzo turned away from the podium and went inside, thankful for the cool blast of air-conditioning that greeted him along with Chief Farnsworth.

“I can’t believe they expect me to tell them where the vice president is, as if that’s my job,” Gonzo said.

“You handled it well,” the chief said. “It’s not up to us to confirm or deny his whereabouts—or hers for that matter.”

“Has there been any word about where they are?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

“What about Archie’s team? Have they picked up anything?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t like this, sir. What if this entire thing is some sort of nefarious plot, and we’re sitting here with our thumbs up our asses?”

“That possibility kept me awake last night.”

Gonzo’s stomach dropped at that news. “So you think it’s fishy too?”

“I don’t know what to think. I’m planning to reach out to Sam’s White House staff today to find out whether the MPD should launch an official investigation.”

“Oh, I like that idea, sir. I like that a whole lot. They’ve got my son with them. I want him back. I want them all back.”

“They may not be able to tell us what’s going on, but we can sure as hell put them on notice that we don’t like the way it’s being handled.”

“Keep me posted?”

“I will.” Farnsworth took a measuring look at him that had Gonzo on the verge of squirming. “You seem to be doing better, Sergeant.”

Grief was, as Gonzo had discovered, unpredictable in its ability to come swooping into a day and remind you of what’d been lost so senselessly. “Maybe. A little.”

“I admire your tenacity and resiliency.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You have a bright future in this department, Sergeant. I’m glad to see you bouncing back from your loss. I hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“I will, sir,” Gonzo said, moved by the chief’s kindness and support. “Thank you.”

“Carry on, then.”

“Have a good day, sir, and please let me know what you hear from the White House. I know the rest of the squad is wondering about where she is.”

“Will do.”

Gonzo left the lobby and headed for the pit, where third-shift Detectives Dominguez and Carlucci had hung around with Freddie after their shift ended, hoping for news about the lieutenant.

“Anything?” Carlucci asked when she saw Gonzo coming.

“Not yet. The chief is going to reach out to Sam’s office at the White House to see if they can shed any light. He promised to keep me posted.”

“I feel like we should be doing something,” Freddie said.

“What we need to be doing is investigating the body that was found in the river. Carlucci and Dominguez, go home and get some sleep. I’ll text you if we hear anything about the lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” they said as one.

“I want everyone else going through missing persons records. Start with the District, Virginia and Maryland over the last three months and work your way out to other areas if nothing pops locally. We’re looking for a female Caucasian between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five. Pull every file that meets the criteria, and we’ll go from there.”

While the others got busy seeing to his orders, Cruz asked if he could have a minute alone.

“Sure—come into the LT’s office.” As her second-in-command, Gonzo had a key and used it to unlock the door. He flipped on the lights and went to sit behind her cluttered desk. “What’s up?”

Cruz shut the door and leaned against it, looking tense. “I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing bringing this to you, but I can’t sit on it.”

“Then you’re doing the right thing. What’s going on?”

“It’s Tyrone. He told me last night he’s thinking about leaving the department.”

Gonzo didn’t have to ask why, because of course he knew. Arnold had been Tyrone’s closest friend in the squad, and he’d taken the loss of his friend just as hard as Gonzo had. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, what you said. I talked him into meeting with Trulo again before he does something that can’t be undone, but I think he’s resolved.”

Gonzo blew out a deep breath. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Without throwing me under the bus?”

“Yeah. Don’t sweat it. Thanks for letting me know. You did the right thing.”

“What about you?” Freddie asked.

“What about me?”

“You said something a couple of months ago about maybe wanting to leave.”

“And yet here I am,” Gonzo said, “still doing what I’ve always done.”

“So you’re not thinking about leaving anymore?”

“I think about it. Sometimes. But this is what I know. It’s who I am. Who would I be if I wasn’t a cop, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Freddie said.

“I’m trying to take the advice I was given repeatedly after it first happened—not to do anything rash that I might regret.”

“That’s a good plan.”

“For now.”

“Everything is different. It’s like we’ve lost our innocence or something.”

“That’s exactly what happened. Cops getting killed was something that happened to other squads in other cities. Not to us. Now it’s happened to us, and we’re changed forever by it. That’s one of many things I’m trying to wrap my head around, and I know the rest of you are too.”

“We are, and hearing Will say he wants out was a shock, to say the least.”

“I’m not as surprised as I should be. He’s been very withdrawn and quiet the last few months. He gets the job done, but there’s no enthusiasm for it anymore.”

“Has Jeannie mentioned anything?” Freddie asked.

“She’s been so distracted by the wedding that I doubt she’s even noticed.”

“Or she can’t deal with it.”

“Which is also possible. Try not to worry. I’ll talk to him. I’ll make sure he’s taking full advantage of the department’s resources and that he makes the best possible decision.”

“Thanks. I’ll leave you to it.”

Cruz left the office but kept the door open to the pit, where Gonzo could see and hear his team working together on the Jane Doe case. Even Carlucci and Dominguez had stuck around to help, despite his orders to go home to get some sleep. Their tight-knit squad was a well-oiled machine, thanks in large part to Sam’s leadership. Losing one of them had rocked their team to the core, and it would be a long time, if ever, before things returned to “normal.”

CHAPTER SIX

TIME BECAME IRRELEVANT UNDERGROUND. Daytime, nighttime, it was all the same, and the longer Sam stared at gray cement walls, the crazier she felt. She began to crave sleep because it was the only escape she got from the boring monotony. Even Nick, who normally distracted her effortlessly, wasn’t able to get her mind off their predicament.