Fatal Scandal: Book Eight of the Fatal Series (18 page)

“Language, Chief,” Sam said, even though she was amused by his assessment. “She’s a stupid bitch. The minute she dragged my niece into the discussion, the gloves came off.”

“You were awesome. If I’m ever truly in trouble, I want you to defend me.”

“Ha! You’ll go up the river for life.”

“Nah, the jurors would be too afraid of you to convict me.”

“You were pretty damn good yourself,” she said.

“Why, thank you. I paled in comparison to the second lady.”

“Bite me. Do we really get to do this four more times?”

“Yep.”

“Something tells me this day isn’t going to suck as bad as I thought it was.”

Their euphoria lasted until they emerged from the TV station to find Deputy Chief Conklin waiting for them. “Bill Springer was found dead this morning.”

* * *

Shelby awoke sore and disoriented. She was supposed to be somewhere. Scotty. He was back to school today. And Nick. His first day at the White House. She needed to be there.

And then she remembered what had happened the day before and sagged back into the pillows. Avery’s pillows. She was in his bed, in his room, in his house, even after he’d confessed to having had feelings for Sam.

Despite all his efforts to make it right, Shelby still felt sick over what three people she considered close friends, three people she loved, had kept from her.

And yes, she loved all of them—or she had before yesterday. Now she wasn’t sure how she felt about any of them.

Snippets of conversation and odd moments ran through her mind, punishing her with the realization that the signs of something afoot had been there all along. However, she’d chosen not to dig in to them. Like the time she’d asked Sam why Nick didn’t like Avery.

“Who knows?” Sam had said. “Guys are so weird.”

But she’d known why. Everyone had known why—except her. Did Scotty know too? Wouldn’t that make it all perfect?

At some point she’d have to talk to Sam and Nick about this, and the thought of that conversation made her nauseated. How did you bring up such a topic with your employers who were also your friends?

She shifted to find a more comfortable position, and her knees burned from the movement. She wasn’t sure which hurt more—her knees or her heart.

Avery came into the room wearing a D.C. Federals T-shirt and black sweats. It wasn’t fair that he looked as sexy in sweats as he did in a three-thousand-dollar suit. He carried a steaming mug that he deposited on the bedside table.

“What’ve you got there?”

“That lemon tea you like. You can still have that, right?”

“Yeah, it’s decaf.” She didn’t want to be touched by his thoughtful gesture, but she could see he was trying. Reaching for the mug, she took a sip and felt the heat travel through her.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Okay. You?”

“Not so great.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I hate that I hurt you, Shelby. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

“I want to believe that. You have no idea how badly I want to believe that.”

“You
can
believe it.” He hesitated before he continued. “I was in a bad place when you and I met. I won’t deny that. But you and I, we’ve built something here. Or at least I thought we had.”

“I thought so too.” Trying to keep her emotions in check, Shelby took another sip of her tea. “I’m almost forty-three, Avery. I’m pregnant with what will probably be my only child. For years, I put on weddings for happy couples and all the while I wondered if I would ever get my fairy tale. And then I met you, and I started to entertain the possibility that it
was
going to happen for me after all. Until I found out you were actually in love with my friend.”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, a move that would’ve made her swoon two days ago. “I never had anything with her. I’ve had everything with you. There’s no comparison.”

Okay, that was a good thing for him to say. He was charming. She’d give him that.

“And before you think I’m saying what you need to hear, ask yourself why I’d do that if I didn’t want to protect what I have with you? If I wasn’t invested, why would I bother to try to fix this?” As he spoke, he gently stroked her cheek with his index finger.

Electrified by his touch, Shelby looked up to find his golden eyes looking at her with everything she’d hoped to one day find in a partner. “I guess you wouldn’t bother.”

“No, I wouldn’t, and yet all I thought about during a sleepless night was how I could fix it. I thought about how lonely I’d be without you and your pink perfection, and I didn’t like how that felt. I didn’t like it at all. So you see, Shelby, you have to forgive me because you wouldn’t want me to be lonely and sad without you, would you?”

Laughing as she wiped away tears, she said, “You’re fighting dirty, Agent Hill.”

“I’m fighting for you, Shelby Faircloth. Will you please find it in your heart to forgive me for keeping something from you that I absolutely should’ve told you a long time ago? Will you try to put this in the past where it belongs so we can focus together on the future?”

The sweet Southern cadence of his speech was enough on its own to make her want to beg
him
for forgiveness. “I’ll try because I want very much to focus on the future with you. But I need a little time to process it all. And I need to talk to Sam in particular and possibly Nick too.”

“You do whatever you need to do, sweetheart. I’ll be right here waiting for you to tell me we’re okay again.” With his finger on her chin, he tipped her face up to receive his kiss.

Shelby loved kissing him. She loved everything with him. More than anything, she loved that he’d apologized and took responsibility for causing her pain. That, right there, made him different from any other man she’d ever spent time with.

He took the tea from her and put it back on the table.

Shelby put her arms around his neck and drew him close to her, breathing in the sexy masculine scent that she’d become addicted to.

When he nuzzled her neck, she turned her head ever so slightly, putting her lips in line with his. He gazed into her eyes for a long, breathless moment before he took her mouth in a desperate kiss.

Shelby gave in to the desire he stirred in her every time he held her and kissed her this way. As always, she was powerless to resist him, even knowing she probably should.

Chapter Seventeen

“What’ve we got?” Sam asked when she walked into Bill Springer’s Georgetown office.

Officer Peterson, a patrolman, consulted his notes. “Bill Springer, age sixty-three, was found by his assistant, Pamela Desjardens, when she arrived for work at seven thirty-five. The office lights were on, Mr. Springer was on the floor and there was no sign of a struggle.”

The result of a struggle could be cleaned up in the aftermath, Sam thought. “Forced entry?”

“Not that we were able to ascertain.”

“Have you touched him?”

“Only to check for a pulse.”

Sam squatted to take a closer look at the body. Like Lori Phillips, he had ligature marks around his neck that were indicative of manual strangling.

“Where’s the admin?”

“Across the hall at one of the other offices. She was freaking out, and she has a friend over there. I thought it would be okay for her to wait there to speak to you.”

“Good call, Peterson.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Let’s get Crime Scene here and do a canvas of the other offices in the building to see if anyone heard anything. You’ve called the ME?”

“On her way.”

Sam turned to the chief, who stood in the hallway looking down at the man who’d caused him endless grief in the last few weeks. Farnsworth’s face had taken on that grayish hue again after hearing the news about Bill Springer. Beside him, Deputy Chief Conklin took in the scene.

“What’re you thinking, Lieutenant?” Conklin asked.

“That someone is trying to make trouble for the MPD. Big trouble.” She went over to Springer’s desk, where a planner sat open. She pulled on a pair of gloves and flipped through the last few days, noting the lack of anything written on the most recent pages. Either he’d stopped writing down his appointments or he’d stopped taking them. “I’d like to talk to the admin.”

“Sure, right this way.” Peterson led them across the hall to where a young blonde sat on a sofa, being comforted by another woman. “Ms. Desjardens, this is Lieutenant Holland, Chief Farnsworth and Deputy Chief Conklin. They’d like to talk to you about what happened this morning.”

She nodded and wiped tears from her face. “I...I got to work early and...and Bill...he was on the floor. I went to him, and he was cold. So cold.”

“Ms. Desjardens, do you know of anyone who might’ve wanted to harm Mr. Springer?”

She shook her head. “He hadn’t been working much lately. After everything with his sons...”

“How long have you worked for him?”

“About two years now?”

“And were you
only
his employee?” Sam asked, playing a hunch.

She looked up at Sam, her tear-ravaged face red and swollen. “What?”

“Were you involved with Mr. Springer in any other way than professionally?”

“We were friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not what I’m asking, as we all know.”

“You don’t have to answer that, Pam,” the other woman said with a scowl for Sam.

“Um, yeah, she does have to answer.”

The air around them vibrated with anticipation.

“He’d been through a lot lately. It was a really upsetting time.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam said as her patience ran out. “Were you sleeping with him, Pam?”

She dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders heaving with sobs.

The other woman rubbed her back while continuing to glare at Sam. “Don’t you have any compassion?”

“Lots of it, but I’ve also got a dead body across the hall, and I’m trying to figure out what happened to him.”

“You should ask your chief. He had a good reason to see Mr. Springer dead.”

“Except he didn’t kill him, so you might want to watch out for lobbing baseless accusations at innocent people. Pamela, I need you to answer the question, or we’ll have to transport you to HQ to discuss this further.”

“You’re going to arrest me?”

“Only if you don’t cooperate.”

“Yes! I slept with him. Are you happy now?”

“Not particularly. Lot of paperwork involved with dead bodies. Makes for a complicated day. How long had you been banging him?”

“Awhile,” she said through gritted teeth.

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

“Every woman knows the exact date she first had sex with the guy in her life. So how long are we talking? A week? A month? A year?”

“A year,” she said softly, so softly Sam almost didn’t hear her.

“That’s a long time. So this was about more than comforting him after his tragic losses then, huh?”

“I loved him! He loved me! He was going to leave his wife, and then Hugo was killed and Billy.”

“Anyone in your life unhappy that you were getting busy with a guy old enough to be your father? Like your own father? An ex-boyfriend or a protective older brother?”

She shook her head. “No one knew.”

“No one at all? You didn’t tell a girlfriend or the woman who worked across the hall from you?” She eyed the friend. “No one?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. Bill said... He said we had to keep it quiet until he got divorced or she’d take him for everything he had. We were going to move to Florida.” All at once it seemed to dawn on her that she wouldn’t be moving to Florida or anywhere else with Bill Springer. She broke down into heartbroken sobs, leaning into her friend, who kept an arm around her.

“Do you have a way to get home?” Sam asked.

“I’ll take her,” the friend said.

“I’ll need both of you to write down your names and phone numbers in case we have follow-up questions.” Sam handed her notebook to the friend and then turned to Farnsworth and Conklin. They’d tried to talk the chief out of coming here, but he’d insisted. “What do you make of it?”

“I have no idea what to make of it,” Farnsworth said. “We need to notify Springer’s wife and family.”

“I’ll do it,” Sam said, though she had no desire to be the one to bring more bad news to Mrs. Springer. “You should get out of here before the media catches wind.”

“I agree, Chief,” Conklin said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Fine, let’s go,” Farnsworth said. “You’ll keep me posted?”

“Of course.” After they left, Sam retrieved her notebook from the women. “Stay local in case we need to reach you.”

Pamela nodded as she stared vacantly at the far wall of her friend’s office. “What am I supposed to do now? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Let’s get you home, Pam,” the friend said.

Sam walked out of the office to find Peterson in the hallway. “Anything on the canvas?”

“Not yet. We haven’t found anyone who was here last night.”

Lindsey McNamara came through the door from the stairwell, carrying her field case. “Morning,” she said.

“Morning, Doc.” Sam gestured for Lindsey to follow her into Springer’s office. “Keep me posted, Peterson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This is going to be another shitstorm, huh?” Lindsey asked when they were alone with Springer’s body. She secured her long red hair into a ponytail before getting to work assessing the victim.

“Yeah.” Sam removed her suit jacket and tossed it over a chair. “Can you give me an estimated time of death?”

“Based on the temperature and the rigor, I’d say sometime before midnight, but I can’t give you anything exact until I get him back to the lab.”

“Roll with me for a second here.”

“Sure.”

“First we have the woman who accused Gonzo of conspiring with the judge to screw her out of custody of their kid. Then we have the lawyer who’s been all over the chief about the botched investigation. Call me crazy, but this feels like a deliberate effort to undermine the department.”

“I can see why you’d think so, but is it possible that neither murder had anything to do with the department?”

“Of course it’s
possible
, but the murders of two people who were causing trouble for us in two days feels too calculated to be random.”

“So what’re you thinking?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Saw you on TV. You guys rocked it. I was cracking up laughing in pity for poor Monica.”

“She was a boob. Five seconds before she referred to me as Lieutenant Cappuano, I’d told her I was not there as the vice president’s wife.”

“You certainly did a good job of reminding people not to jump to conclusions.”

“Imagine the conclusions they’ll jump to when this hits the news.”

“Gonna be ugly,” Lindsey said bluntly.

Sam waited for the Crime Scene detectives to arrive and for Lindsey’s team to remove Springer’s body. People from other offices stood in the hallway to watch the proceedings. She figured she had a matter of minutes to get to Mrs. Springer before the news hit Twitter or Facebook.

As she drove to the MacArthur Boulevard home of Marissa Springer, Sam called Freddie.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What’s up?”

“Someone killed Springer.”

“Seriously? Oh my God. Hang on just a second.” When he came back, he spoke in a normal tone. “What the hell is going on?”

“I have no freaking clue, but we’re going to need to get one fast before our department gets dragged through the mud even worse than we have been lately.”

“I was watching the news this morning. You and the chief killed it on CBC.”

“For all the good it did us. The second the news about Springer hits, people will forget all about that.”

“What can I do?”

“Are you working today?”

“Elin is still in the hospital.”

“Oh, damn, really? How come?”

“The punch broke bones in her face. They kept her for observation. I’m not sure when they’re going to let her out.”

“You should be with her. Take a personal day.”

“You need me. With Gonzo out—”

“We’re okay. Take care of her and check in with me later.”

“She’ll probably be going home later, and I can work from home. Hit me up if I can help.”

“I will. Tell Elin I hope she feels better.”

“Will do.”

Sam ended the call with her partner, and placed a second call, her stomach clenching as she pressed Send.

Hill answered on the second ring. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, hey, so I need your help.”

“Really. Did it pain you to say those words?”

“More than you know. Bill Springer was found murdered in his office this morning.”

“Seriously?
Fuck
.”

“You said it. I need you, Avery. I need someone outside the department making sure we aren’t going to get totally screwed by this.”

“I’m not working today. Terrell is available.”

“I need
you
, not your deputy. You.”

“I have a situation on the home front. I need to be here.”

“What kind of situation does a single guy with no kids have on the home front?”

“A badly injured girlfriend.”

Sam sighed with frustration about the case and empathy for her friend. “So she’s badly injured? I though Cruz said she only skinned her knees. It’s not the baby, is it?”

“The baby is fine. She’s just... I can’t leave.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Hill?”

His deep sigh set off a whole new wave of anxiety within Sam. “She found out about the thing, between us, back when we first met.”

“There was no
thing
between us! What the hell?”

“The one-sided thing.”

“You fucking
told
her that? Is this why she called in sick today? She’s pissed with
us
?”

“She called in sick today because her knees and hands are a mess and the ER docs advised her to take it easy for a few days.”

“And because she’s pissed.”

“Maybe a little.”

“A little. Right. Thanks a lot for this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you sharing something like that with her.”

“I like her, Sam. It was way past time to be honest with her.”

“So now she thinks you’re dating her to get closer to me.”

“I assured her that is not the case.”

“Way to go, Hill. Seriously, great job.” Sam thought about when Shelby and Avery were first dating and how she’d told Shelby to keep him far, far away from them—Nick in particular. Now Shelby knew why and was hurt. Excellent. “This is just what we needed with Nick starting the new job and me dealing with someone who has a beef with my colleagues.”

“I’m sorry if the timing was inconvenient for you, Lieutenant.”

“Forget I called. I don’t need your help with this or anything else.” She hung up on him and threw the phone into the passenger seat. “Motherfucker!”

Her mind reeled with the implications of Shelby finding out about Avery’s so-called crush. What Shelby must be thinking!
Ugh
. As Sam pulled onto MacArthur Boulevard, she took a call from Gonzo.

“Hey, how’s it going?” she asked.

“Never better. What’s the latest?”

“Well, Springer’s admin found him dead on the floor of his office this morning. Also manually strangled.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am.” She heard Gonzo conveying the news to Christina.

“This is unbelievable.”

“Starting to feel like a vendetta.”

“No kidding.”

“So I’m at MacArthur now. I got the short straw and have to tell Marissa Springer. Just looking at the place where Brooke was attacked gives me hives.”

“You should get someone else to do it.”

“No time. People know. It’ll be all over social media if it’s not already.”

“Shit, Sam. What the hell is this?”

“I wish I knew, but I don’t like it. And with all my best people dealing with other shit.”

“Where’s Cruz?”

“Elin is in the hospital with broken facial bones from an incident at the gym yesterday.”

“Shit. What about Hill? Shouldn’t we call in the Feds since this is all about us in some way?”

“He’s sent his deputy because he’s dealing with a personal issue with my assistant, who’s pissed off at him, me and Nick because none of us told her about Hill’s thing with me.”

“What thing with you?”

“You honestly don’t know?”

“No idea. Don’t tell me you and him... You met him after you were with Nick.”

“There was nothing between him and me, except for in his dreams. And now Shelby knows that.”

“Hill had a
thing
for
you
? Seriously? Does he have a death wish? And how did I miss this?”