“I was abducted from a mall in Columbia, Maryland three years ago,” Ginger said bluntly. “My parents are Justin and Deanna Moreland.” She recited the phone number in a clear, calm voice.
“That’s how I know you,” Sam said, putting the pieces together. “Your parents have never stopped looking for you. They recently distributed a photo of what you might look like today, and it was spot-on.”
“They’re looking for me?” Ginger whispered, her chin quivering.
“They’ve never stopped. Your abduction was big news.”
Tears rolled down her face. She swept them away, almost as if she was annoyed with herself for the emotional reaction.
“Do you remember your family, Amber?”
“I’m from Massapequa on Long Island. I got separated from my mom at a bus station in the city when I was nine, and they took me. My mom is Allison Tattorelli. People call her Alli.”
“Do you remember her phone number?”
“I remember it started with 516, but I can’t remember the rest.”
“We’ll find her, honey,” Sam said, her heart breaking for the girls and their families and the ordeal they’d endured. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Detective Cruz will be here if you need anything.”
She got up and left the conference room, shutting the door behind her. In her office, she dropped into the chair behind her desk and took a moment to get her emotions in check before she called Ginger’s parents. It was a phone call she couldn’t wait to make but also dreaded at the same time.
Gonzo and Hill appeared at her door.
“Everything okay?” Gonzo asked.
“The girls we brought in from the motel were abducted years ago.”
“Oh, God,” Gonzo said. “What can I do to help?”
Sam handed him the paper on which she’d written down the information about Amber’s mother. “Can you find me a number for Allison Tattorelli in Massapequa, New York?”
He took the paper. “I’m on it.”
“What can I do?” Hill asked.
“Find me a connection between the Capitol Motor Inn and Elle Kopelsman. One of the girls was able to put her with Lind before he was killed. The other one was probably the last to see Willie alive.”
“He was there too?”
“He was a regular, just like Lind. Anything on the financials for Elle or Ray?”
“Nothing that stands out, but it’s a complicated maze. You were right about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The paper is hanging by a thread, and it’s dragging the rest of the family’s holdings down with it.”
“She would’ve been desperate to protect her father’s legacy. She would’ve gone to any lengths to keep what he left her.” Sam’s spine tingled with the feeling she got whenever she was on to something. Everything was leading back to Elle Kopelsman Jestings.
“How would killing the ballplayers who lost the game for the team protect her father’s legacy?”
“It wouldn’t,” Sam said, more certain by the second that she was right about this. “But she would’ve been infuriated that they lost a game they should’ve won. She needed that win more than anyone else, and she would’ve blamed them for letting it get away.” Sam snapped her fingers. “The goons!”
“What?” Hill asked, startled by the shift in conversation.
“The bodyguards helped her,” Sam said, hearing clicking noises as the pieces began to fit together. “We’ve been looking for Willie’s car on video from the wrong part of town. I’ve got to make a phone call, and then we need to go have a conversation with your friend Elle. Can you find out where she is tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll take advantage of my lifelong friendship with her husband to get that info for you.”
“If you’d rather not, I’d be happy to call him.”
“I’ll do it.”
When she was alone, Sam took another deep breath and dialed the number Ginger had given her. The phone rang five times before a woman answered. When her eyes filled with tears, Sam closed them, determined to get through this as unemotionally as possible. “Mrs. Moreland?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Lieutenant Sam Holland, Metro Police Department in Washington, D.C. We’ve found your daughter.”
* * *
The next two hours would forever go down as some of the most satisfying hours of Sam’s career. Justin and Deanna Moreland arrived fifty-seven minutes after Sam called them, and their reunion with their daughter was full of tears and hugs and the kind of overwhelming joy that Sam didn’t often get to experience as a homicide detective.
Their joy brought her to tears more than once, but she made no attempt to hide them because everyone around her was in the same state. Even the formidable Agent Hill had wiped away a tear or two while watching the reunion of parents with the child they’d feared lost forever.
Ginger’s tough outer facade crumbled the second her mother walked into the room, and she couldn’t seem to stop hugging both her parents.
“I found Amber’s mother,” Hill said, drawing Sam’s attention away from the drama unfolding in the conference room. He handed her a piece of paper.
“Thanks.” Sam wiped her eyes, took a deep breath to calm her emotions and went into her office to call yet another parent who’d waited years to hear this news.
Like the Morelands before her, Alli screamed when Sam relayed the news and managed to stop crying long enough to tell Sam she was leaving right away to come to Washington.
Since she was looking at a long, late night at work, Sam called home while she had the chance.
“Hi there,” Shelby said. “How’s it going?”
“It’s turned into an amazing day around here.”
“How so?”
Sam filled her in on what’d happened at the motel and the reunions taking place between the missing kids and their heartbroken parents.
“Oh, Sam, oh my goodness! How wonderful!”
“Needless to say, I’m going to be here a while. If you need to leave, Scotty can have a sleepover at my dad’s.”
“I’ve got nothing going on tonight. I’m happy to stay here. Don’t worry about us. We’re just fine.”
Sam nearly sagged with the overwhelming relief of having someone she trusted to help with Scotty. “I really appreciate it. I hope you know that.”
“Of course I do. It’s my pleasure to spend time with him. I suspect I love him almost as much as you do.”
“He’s pretty easy to love. Could I talk to him?”
“Sure, let me see if he’s out of the shower yet. He talked me into pizza for dinner in exchange for taking his shower earlier than usual.”
“You’re a shrewd negotiator.”
“I’m learning. Scotty, Sam is on the phone and wants to talk to you. Here he is.”
“Hi, Sam, did you catch the bad guy yet?”
“Not quite yet, but we think we know who it is. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you in the morning.”
“I still get to go with Mrs. L tomorrow right?”
“Absolutely.”
“She called tonight to see if I might like to have a sleepover at the house so I could see the kids. I told her I’d ask you and let her know tomorrow.”
“That sounds like fun. If you want to stay, I can’t see any reason why not.”
“Will Nick mind if he gets home and I’m not here?”
“I bet he’ll be so tired that all he’ll want to do is sleep when he first gets home.”
“That’s probably true.”
“How about you go with Mrs. L tomorrow, sleep over with the kids and we’ll come get you Sunday afternoon? Maybe we can even stop at the farm and have dinner with the O’Connors on the way home.” They had a standing invite to Sunday dinner that they rarely had time to accept.
“Could I ride the horses?”
“I’m sure that could be arranged.”
“That would be the best weekend ever.”
Sam smiled, delighted by his endless enthusiasm. “Shelby said things went okay with Nathan and the other kids today?”
“Yep. He didn’t even look at me. I don’t know what you said to his mom, but whatever it was, it worked.”
“And the other kids didn’t treat you any differently?”
“Nope.”
“That’s cuz they know your mom is a badass cop.”
“Sam...”
“I know, I know,” she said, holding back a laugh. The kid was too damned much.
“We need a swear jar in our house.”
“What the heck is that?”
“We had one in Richmond. Every time you swear, you have to put in a quarter that I get to keep. I’ll be rich living with you.”
“Very funny! I need a full list of what counts as a swear if I’m going to have to pay for them.”
“You know what counts.”
“No, I don’t. You’re always adding new ones to the list.” Had she ever enjoyed a conversation more? Not that she could recall. “Listen, buddy, I’ve got to get back to work. Behave for Shelby tonight and for Mrs. Littlefield tomorrow. We’ll see you Sunday, and we’ll call you while you’re gone.”
“I’ll behave. Don’t worry.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Sam ended the call and held the phone to her chest for a long time afterward. She had no doubt at all that she, who had spent her entire adult life avenging murder victims, could easily kill anyone who dared to harm that boy. She’d loved fiercely in her life, but not much could compare to the fierce love that came with motherhood.
Hill came to the door. “Two ten-thousand-dollar checks were written from Ray and Elle’s joint account the day after the game, one to each of her two bodyguards, signed by her. It’s the only account of hers that has any money left in it.”
Sam absorbed the new information, reached for her desk phone and asked dispatch to connect her to the cell phone of Lieutenant Rango, the officer in charge of the Crime Scene Unit.
“Rango.”
“It’s Holland. How’s it going at the motel?”
“Slow. This place is a DNA wonderland, a blue-light special of the highest order.”
“Ugh, disgusting.”
“Truly.”
“I believe I have a suspect. She’s a blonde with very long hair who got busy with Lind in the room. One thing I know about women with long hair is that they shed. I’ve got a pretty good case against her, but a long blond hair of hers from that room would help.”
“I’ll see what we can do. You might find her DNA in the sheets too. They were well used.”
Sam grimaced. “We’ll take what we can get. Keep me in the loop, and great job to your team on finding the knife.”
“Any news from the lab on that?”
“Not yet, but we’ve got a rush on it. Have you heard anything about the processing of Willie’s car?”
“We got a couple of partial prints off the steering wheel that one of our technicians is working on now.”
“I could
really
use that info.”
“Will see what I can do to move it along.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
To Hill, Sam said, “Were you able to figure out where your friend Elle is tonight?”
“She’s attending a fundraiser at the Willard with Ray.”
“Would you care to accompany me to the Willard or would you prefer to not have anything to do with arresting your friend’s wife?”
“I’ll go,” he said tightly.
“Let me check on Cruz and the girls, and then we’ll go.”
As she stood up, Malone came to the door. “A moment, Lieutenant?”
“Ah, sure. Hill, I’ll be right with you.”
He left the room, and Malone came in, closing the door behind him.
Sam took a close look at her mentor, trying to figure out why he looked so different. “What’s wrong?” She immediately thought of Nick, but tamped down that worry. He was on his way home. He was okay.
“There were twenty-six children at the house. The youngest was seven. The oldest was sixteen.”
Disgust flooded every pore of Sam’s being. “And the people holding them?”
“Six adults, all in custody. We’re working now to locate the families.”
Sam sighed and shook her head, filled with despair and relief and joy.
“A lot of families are going to be reunited tonight because you trusted your gut, Lieutenant.”
Sam never had learned how to take a compliment. “Oh, well, I was just doing my job, sir.”
“You once again went above and beyond the call of duty. I see another commendation in your future.”
“Thank you, Captain.” They were so rarely formal with each other, but the situation seemed to warrant it.
“Where are we with the Vasquez case?”
“I believe we’ve determined what happened to Willie Vasquez and Rick Lind.”
“And that is?”
“They were killed by Elle Kopelsman Jestings, the wife of team owner Ray Jestings, because they lost a game that she desperately needed them to win.” Sam explained about the financial troubles plaguing the
Washington Star
and how Elle had been counting on the TV rights to the World Series to bail out the company.
“How do you have her on the Vasquez murder?”
“I don’t—yet—but I believe she paid her bodyguards ten thousand dollars each—some of the last money she had—to take out Vasquez. She took care of Lind herself after she got him drunk and high and pickled his brain with sex. She and the bodyguards must’ve talked about the perfect spot to stab someone to ensure they’d die as quickly as possible, thus the exact same wound for both victims.”
“Hell of a way to go.”
“Killing two of her marquee players also gets them off the team payroll. That might’ve been part of her motive.”
Lieutenant Archelotta stepped into the office. “We’ve got something,” he said, holding up a flash drive. “We finally got the film from the Smithsonian with footage of two guys tossing Willie in the Dumpster.”
“Let’s see,” Sam said, buzzing from the thrill of connecting all the dots.
When Archie played the film on her desktop computer, Sam said, “We got ’em. Those are Elle’s bodyguards. I’ve seen them so I can positively ID them.” From the stacks on her desk, she produced a printout that included photos of the beefy twins that protected Elle—and apparently killed for her too. “Their names are Boris and Horace. Between this and Ginger’s testimony that puts Elle in Rick Lind’s hotel room close to time of death, we’ve got enough to arrest them.”
“So what’s your plan?” Malone asked.
“I’ll use them against each other to get the full story of what happened to Willie. I’m pretty sure I know what happened to Lind. He outlived his usefulness. Thanks, Archie.”
He handed her the flash drive when he removed it from her computer. “My pleasure,” he said on his way out of the office.