Fatal Identity (26 page)

Malone filled them in on what they knew so far, and what was currently being done. Ten minutes later, she ran out of questions—and, from what he could hear, steam.

“I appreciate your time, Captain,” Nick said. “Perhaps now my wife will actually go to sleep and stay asleep.”

“I live to serve.”

“We'll be back in the city tomorrow. I assume you'll hear from my lovely bride.”

“I shall eagerly anticipate her return.”

Nick snorted with laughter before the phone went dead.

Malone grunted out a laugh as he hung up the phone. Classic Holland. Sick as a freaking dog and still on the job. He'd no sooner had that thought than Cruz and Gonzales appeared in the doorway. “What're you guys doing here?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“C
OULDN
'
T
SLEEP
,”
C
RUZ
SAID
. “I can't stop thinking about Josh, so I went by the hospital to see how he's doing. No change.”

“I couldn't sleep either,” Gonzo said. “I figured there might be something I could do to help.”

“Right now, we're waiting on Archie to tell us where we might find Dustin Jacoby, who's apparently smack in the middle of this whole thing—whatever this whole thing might be.”

“So we're actually about to go after the deputy director of the FBI in relation to the murder of the director?”

“And possibly the kidnapping of the child the director raised as his own.”

“At least there's never a dull moment on this job,” Cruz said, his expression incredulous.

“Shoulda gone into banking or insurance or something predictable and boring,” Gonzo said as he took a seat and put his feet on Sam's desk.

Cruz took the other seat and put his feet up too.

While the cat was away...

“You really think you could be happy doing something else?” Cruz asked Gonzo.

“I've started to think maybe I could,” Gonzo said, keeping his eyes down as he spoke.

“Are you making conversation or telling me something, Sergeant?” Malone asked.

“Right now? Making conversation.”

Cruz stared at Gonzo. It was no secret the two men were close friends outside of work. “Are you seriously thinking about leaving?”

“I'm seriously thinking about all my options, up to and including a career change.”

“What does Trulo say about that?” Malone asked.

“I got the speech about time being the great healer of all things, the same thing he always says, along with how important it is not to make any big or hasty decisions while I'm grieving.”

“It's good advice,” Cruz said. “After I got shot, he told me it would be a while before I could hear a car backfire and not think it was happening again.”

“Including your own car?” Gonzo asked with a ghost of a smile that filled Malone with an unreasonable amount of hope. If he could make a joke, maybe he might actually survive the loss of his partner.

“That's hilarious. Ha. Ha. Actually, he meant
other
cars, and it turns out he was right. It took six or eight months, but I didn't jump out of my skin every time I heard a loud noise anymore.”

“I was in a high-speed crash when I was in Patrol,” Malone said. “Rolled over three times, busted a couple of ribs and my collarbone. Took me a year before I could drive over fifty miles an hour, which made it tough for me to do my job. My partner did all the driving for a while, but anytime we had to chase, I'd close my eyes and break into a cold sweat until it was over. Every damned time, I expected the car to roll over.” He could still remember the sickening fear that made him feel weak and ineffective.

“I've never heard you were in a crash,” Cruz said.

“Was a
long
time ago. More than twenty years. You never forget it, but you do figure out a way to cope.” He fixed his gaze on Gonzo. “In time.”

“I'm sensing a theme here,” Gonzo said with a small grin. “I hear what you're saying—what everyone is saying. I'm not planning any hasty decisions. I'm only thinking more and more about the possibility of doing something else, not acting on it.”

“I don't think you're alone in that after what happened,” Cruz said.

“What do you know?” Malone asked.

“Tyrone,” Cruz said somewhat reluctantly. “He's not taking Arnold's death well at all—not that any of us are—but he's... He's messed up over it.”

“I'll ask Trulo to talk to him,” Malone said.

“I think he already has,” Cruz said. “I shouldn't even be saying anything because he confided in me, but I'm worried about him.”

“You absolutely should say something,” Malone said. “We can't help him if we don't know he's having trouble.”

“Still... I don't want him to think I came running to you.”

Malone understood where he was coming from. “I got ya. I'll keep an eye on him.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “The loss of Arnold was a blow to all of us. I remember vividly how devastated everyone was, myself included, when Steven Coyne was killed in a similar fashion, and I hadn't worked that closely with him. Everyone felt it, just like we all feel the loss of Arnold. It's a horrible reminder that we put ourselves on the line every day out there.”

“And most of the time, no one gives a shit,” Gonzo said.

“I still believe more people do than don't, regardless of what the media would have us believe,” Malone said.

Lieutenant Archelotta appeared in the doorway. “I've got your location. He's in the mountains in West Virginia, and we've got him on the footage from the hotel in Beltsville where Josh was found.”

* * *

F
REDDIE
RODE
WITH
Malone and Gonzo in a department SUV, following the MPD SWAT unit that was deployed to assist the West Virginia State Police. Everyone was tense. They anticipated that Jacoby might fight back and fight back hard. With everything on the line, he had nothing to lose.

Organizing the operation to go after Jacoby in the mountains had taken a couple of hours and a lot of coordination with West Virginia State Police, which had to be convinced that it was actually in their best interest to help the MPD track down the missing FBI deputy director.

It also took some doing to keep the Feds out of the loop. The last thing they needed was interference that would allow Jacoby to get away.

The Virginia State Police had been successful in removing Mrs. Hamilton from her mother's home and now had her in custody. McBride and Tyrone were on their way to pick her up and bring her to HQ.

On the tense, quiet ride north, Freddie texted Elin to let her know where he would be for the next couple of hours.

Why do you have to go?

Because this is our case and he's a person of interest.

I don't like it.

Ever since Arnold was killed in cold blood on a city sidewalk, she'd been a lot more nervous about his job. Then he'd been abducted at gunpoint and knocked around, which sent her nerves into the red zone.

I'll be fine. Try not to worry. This isn't our raid. We're just along for support. I won't be out in front.

Not this time anyway, but there'd be plenty of other times when he and his team would be leading the charge. He hoped that she would eventually relax a little but didn't think it would happen anytime soon.

The conversation with Malone and Gonzo earlier had brought home how deeply the suffering ran in their small, close group within the Homicide squad. Not only had his death affected each of Arnold's colleagues profoundly, it was also taking a toll on their loved ones.

Please be careful. Love you so much. Can't take any more near-misses.

Freddie blew out a deep sigh. He hated that he put her through so much and couldn't imagine what he'd do if it finally became too much for her. How would he go on without her? He couldn't even bear to think about a life that didn't include her.
Love
you
too
,
baby.
Don't
worry.

His phone dinged with a new text from Sam.
What's
happening
there?

He filled her in on where they were going and why.

I'm so pissed to be sitting this one out. Be back soon to help out.

We've got ya covered. No worries. How you feeling?

Like death.

Ugh. Sorry. I'll let you know what happens.

Please do.

VA SP has Courtney Hamilton in custody. More to come on that too. And we've got Jacoby on the security film from the hotel in Beltsville where Josh was found.

It's all coming together. Any word on how Josh is?

Last I heard he's the same, but doctors are optimistic that he'll pull through.

I've got to give Franklin police something in the AM. They're anxious to tell Taylor's parents that he's been located.

Hopefully we'll have some good news for them soon.

Hope so.

Freddie looked out into the dark of night, thinking of Josh and people in Tennessee that he'd never met, but who were about to get an answer to all their prayers. He could only hope—and pray—that the son they'd missed for so many years would live to be reunited with them.

* * *

A
FTER
THE
EXCHANGE
with Freddie, Sam put down her phone and tried to fall back to sleep. Though she felt worse than she ever had in her life, she was wide-awake and buzzing with adrenaline after hearing her people were hot on Jacoby's trail. She'd give anything, well, almost anything, to be with them when they took him in.

She sat up slowly, her head spinning from even that small movement. The bedside clock read four-thirty.

“What're you doing?” Nick asked.

“I'm coming out of my skin being here when things are going down at home.”

“You're sick. Even if you were there, you wouldn't be working.”

“Still...can we go home?”

“Right now?”

“Didn't you say the plane is on standby whenever you need it?”

“Within reason.”

“Will you check? Please?”

Sighing, he got out of bed, turned on a light, pulled on a pair of sweats and went to the door.

Sam heard the low murmur of voices but couldn't make out any specifics of what was being said.

The door closed and Nick came over to sit on the bed. “They'll see what they can do.”

“Thank you.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You're sure you feel up to traveling?”

“I never feel up to traveling, but I'm losing my mind, in addition to my lunch, being here. I want to go home.”

Nick reached for the cup of ice water he'd put on the bedside table earlier. “Drink. Stay hydrated so you don't end up in the hospital like I did.”

She did as he asked, her stomach gurgling in protest at the cold liquid. For a second, she feared the water would come right back up. But it stayed down. The battle let her know she wasn't as over the flu as she'd like to be. She sank into the pile of pillows, breathing through the nausea. “This sucks balls.”

“Yeah, it really does. I can't remember ever feeling worse in my life.”

“Because you're superman. You never get sick.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

A soft knock on the door had him crossing the room for an update. “Thanks so much, Brant. We'll be ready.” He closed the door and turned to face her. “Wheels up in one hour.”

“Thank God.” Then she thought of Avery. “Um, what do we do about, um, Avery?”

“What about him?”

Sam rolled her eyes at the testy way he said that. “Would it be possible to offer my colleague, who was so amazingly helpful to me when I was sick, a ride back to D.C.?”

“Yes, it would be possible. Do you want me to call his room and see if he's interested in joining us?”

“It's very nice of you to offer, but I'll call him.” She found his name on her list of contacts and placed the call.

“Hill.”

“It's me. Sam.”

“How're you feeling?”

“Better. We're going home. You want to hitch a ride with us?”

After a long pause, he said, “Um, sure. I need to return the rental car, though.”

In consultation with Nick, they discussed logistics and agreed that they'd pick him up at the terminal in forty minutes.

“See you then,” Avery said before the line went dead.

“Look at us,” Nick said as he put on jeans and a sweater. “One big happy family.”

“There may be hope for you two yet.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” He came around the bed to help her up, holding her until she got her bearings. “Take it slow. You were really sick last night, and you're going to feel weak and dizzy for another day or two.” He placed his hand flat against her forehead. “You're still warmer than you should be too.”

“I'm okay.” She kissed his cheek and went to find her suitcase. By the time she brushed her hair and teeth and put on some clothes, she was completely drained of energy. A dizzy spell had her gripping the bathroom sink so she wouldn't fall.

Nick's arms came around her from behind. “Easy, baby.”

She rested against him, letting him hold her up when it was too much to do it herself. Sam slept through most of the ride to the airport in the pearly dawn light and woke when they stopped to pick up Avery. The Secret Service handled everything with their usual dispatch and they were loaded onto
Air Force Two
a short time later.

Sam insisted on walking up the stairs to the plane herself, which, in hindsight, was a mistake.

Nick belted her into her seat and sat next to her.

Avery sat across the aisle from them.

Though she kept her eyes closed, Sam heard the stewards offering food and beverages and Nick encouraging Avery to have whatever he wanted. Both men ordered breakfast and coffee. Nick asked for ginger ale and water for her.

Sam hoped she could handle the smell of the food.

That was the last thought she had before the wheels touching down at Andrews Air Force Base jarred her out of a sound sleep.

“Welcome back, babe.” Nick offered a glass of ice water, and she took a greedy drink.

“I can't believe I slept through an entire flight. I need to get sick more often if that's what it takes to sleep when I fly.”

“You've got a little more color in your cheeks than you had earlier.”

“I actually feel better.”