Fatal Identity (13 page)

On the way down the ramp, she took a call from Freddie.

“We just got called to a homicide in Northwest.”

“I know. I'm on my way.”

“I thought you were suspended.”

“I am.”

“Ahhh,” he said with a chuckle. “I see.”

“This is big, Freddie. It's Hamilton.”

Gasping, he said, “Josh?”

“No, Troy.”

“Holy smokes.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of holy fucking shit myself.”

“Yeah, that too. You don't think...Josh...”

“I don't know, but Nick mentioned that possibility. He showed up disheveled earlier and said he'd fallen in Rock Creek Park. I didn't see anything on him that looked like blood, and a murder like this would've been messy. But he certainly had motive.”

“This is the weirdest case ever.”

“And it's just gotten a whole lot weirder.”

“No kidding. See you there.”

“On my way.” She pressed on the accelerator, dodging what little traffic there was at that hour on a Sunday and headed for the city's Northwest corner. On the way, she placed a call to Lindsey McNamara.

“Hey, I was just going to call you,” Lindsey said. “I got word that the DNA report is back. What do you want me to do with it?”

“Email it to me?”

“Will do.”

“We've got a body,” she said, giving Lindsey the address. “And not just any body. It's FBI Director Hamilton.”

“Oh my God.”

“I know, and you're probably not on call, but I want you on this one. Can you come?” Sam gave her the address.

“Yes, of course. I'll call in my team and meet you there.”

“We're keeping a tight lid on this for obvious reasons.”

“Where's his son?”

“On lockdown at my house. He's been there for hours, but was in the wind for a period of time earlier today. I'm going to be very interested in the time of death.”

“Are you on the case? I thought you were off.”

“I am, but Malone called me in. See you in a few.”

Not surprisingly, the Hamiltons resided in one of the swankier areas of the city, and the street was lined with cars and emergency vehicles by the time Sam pulled in behind Freddie's rattletrap Mustang. The neighbors had begun to wander out to see what was going on.

Sam walked down the long driveway to the huge porch where Freddie greeted her. “We've got gawkers out there,” she said. “Get Patrol here to set up a perimeter.”

“Already done.”

“Someone trained you right.”

“Yeah, I can't remember the name of the guy, but he did a good job.”

“Yes,
she
did.” She followed him inside, through a foyer that was the size of her first apartment after the academy, into a sitting room that led to the office where Hamilton lay in a pool of blood, a golf club on the floor next to him. His face was unrecognizable, which seemed deliberate, as if the killer had wanted to erase his identity.

Avery Hill stood watch over his director, arms crossed, expression tense. When he looked at her, however, Sam saw the despair.

“Any sign of forced entry?” Sam asked, sensing that engaging Hill in the investigation would help.

“Not that I could see, but I didn't do a full search. The front door was ajar when I arrived.”

Sam glanced at Freddie, and he nodded, leaving the room to see to her unspoken order to do a full search of the premises to check points of entry and to make sure no one else was in the house. She squatted for a closer look at the victim and noted the blow that had caved in the side of his skull and likely ended his life. Lindsey would confirm that, but in cases like this, it didn't take an autopsy to determine cause of death.

“You touch anything?” she asked Hill.

He shook his head. “I used my shoulder to push open the door and the only thing I've touched since I got here was my phone to call you.”

The rest of her team began to arrive—Dominguez and Carlucci, McBride and Tyrone and then Lindsey, Malone and Farnsworth.

Freddie returned. “Clear,” he said of the rest of the house.

“Where's Gonzo?” she asked in a low tone that only he could hear.

“Not here.”

“Call him.” To the others, she said, “Listen up. Our victim is FBI Director Troy Hamilton.”

Her announcement was greeted with shocked expressions and gasps of surprise.

“Wait,” Tyrone said. “Weren't we looking for his son earlier today?”

“You were,” Sam said. “Here's what we know so far.” She began with her encounter with Josh on Friday and quickly took them through the sequence of events over the weekend that had culminated with Avery finding Hamilton's body an hour ago.

“What brought you here, Agent Hill?” Malone asked while the others processed what Sam had told them.

“After I saw you and Lieutenant Holland earlier and you informed me about what was happening with the director's son, I went home and tried to wrap my head around the possibility that the director could've been involved in a kidnapping of all things. After a couple of hours, I realized I needed to see him, to talk to him, to try to get to the bottom of what was going on. So I came here.”

He paused before he continued, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I rang the bell and knocked on the door, which was ajar. When no one answered, I nudged the door with my shoulder and stepped inside, calling for the director. I noticed a vase shattered in the foyer and a lamp on the floor in the room to my right. I've been here before, so I knew where the director's home office was located. Upon approach to the doorway, I saw his foot on the floor and then the rest of his body in a pool of blood. I called the lieutenant after confirming he was dead.”

“Did you touch him?” Farnsworth asked.

“I didn't need to. It was obvious he was long gone.”

Lindsey McNamara's team arrived in a flurry of activity and began to prepare Hamilton's body for transport to the morgue.

“Who was his next of kin?” Sam asked Avery.

“His wife, I suppose.”

Sam withdrew the notebook she carried with her from her back pocket. “What's her name?”

“Courtney. He also has three children—Josh, Mark and Maura. Only Josh is local. Mark lives in Chicago, and Maura is in Boston.”

“Where might we find Courtney?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea.” He met her gaze. “You could ask Josh.”

“I suppose we'll have to.”

“Is Josh a suspect?” Freddie asked.

“Doc, can you tell how long he's been dead?” Sam asked Lindsey.

“I'm guessing until I get him back to the lab, but upon visual inspection, I'd say it's been a couple hours.”

To Freddie, Sam said, “I don't know if he's a suspect, but he was off the grid for a period of hours, during which time his father was murdered. I'd say we need to have a conversation with him about exactly where he went after he left the hotel.”

“He was scared shitless that his father was going to kill him,” Freddie said. “I find it hard to believe he would've come anywhere near here.”

“Or maybe he wanted us to
think
he was scared shitless so we wouldn't look at him for this,” Sam said.

“I suppose that's possible,” Freddie conceded.

“All I know,” Sam said, “is we can't rule him out for this, and right now he's with my husband and son. I'm going home.”

“I'm going with you,” Avery said.

“Let's make it a party,” Farnsworth added.

“Cruz, wait for Crime Scene and then you can join us at the lieutenant's home,” Malone said.

“Yes, sir.”

“The rest of you start a canvass,” Sam said. “See if the neighbors report anything suspicious, but don't give them any details about what happened to Hamilton. Very tight lid.”

Murmurs of “yes, ma'am” preceded their departure.

“Did you reach Gonzo?” Sam asked Freddie.

“Right to voicemail.”

She had to hunt down her sergeant tomorrow and figure out what to do for him before his grief fucked up his once-promising career.

Sam took a final look around the director's study, noting the desktop devoid of clutter the way Nick's was, the framed photos on the wall of the director with presidents, world leaders and other luminaries, the awards, the certificates, the accolades. The room was a shrine to his career, but nowhere among the pomp or pageantry did she see a photo of his wife or children.

Interesting. The first thing anyone would notice on her husband's desk was the gorgeous, intimate photo from their wedding and a second one of them with their son. There would be no doubt of where his priorities lay.

Hamilton would take his secrets to the grave with him, but Sam was going to figure out what those secrets were, and if she had to shred his vaunted reputation in the process, well, so be it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

S
AM
LEFT
THE
director's home less than an hour after she had arrived, placing a call to her husband as she walked to her car. “The cavalry is coming,” she said when he answered.

“What do you mean?”

“Farnsworth, Malone, Hill. They want to talk to Josh.”

“Um, okay.”

“I'm sorry I brought this situation into our home. That was a mistake.”

“Hang on. I'm going into the kitchen.” She heard him moving around. “No, it wasn't. At the time you thought it was the right thing. You had no way to know his father would end up murdered and you'd be wondering what, if anything, Josh had to do with it.”

“I am wondering. He was off the grid for a few hours today. That's one of the things we need to talk to him about. When we're done, I'll have Malone set up a new place to keep him until we figure this out.”

“I was hoping you'd say that. Brant told me he has a weird feeling about the guy. He's been watching him like a hawk.”

“Brant is paid to trust those feelings,” Sam said with a sigh. “I really fucked this up. I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, babe. This is your home too and you can invite anyone you want to come here.”

“I shouldn't have brought my work home with me. If it wasn't for this goddamned suspension, I wouldn't have had to.”

“How bad was the scene at Hamilton's house?”

“Golf-club-to-the-face bad.”

“Jesus. How could someone get at him? Didn't he have security?”

“Nope.”

“He was arrogant to think he didn't need it.”

“Like someone else you know?”

“Your words, not mine,” he said with a laugh.

“I'm almost home. Do me a favor and send Scotty up to bed?”

“Yeah, will do. He's yawning his head off anyway. See you in a few.”

She closed her phone and stashed it in her coat pocket as she pulled up to the security checkpoint and opened the window. “I've got some of my colleagues on the way over. MPD Chief Farnsworth, Captain Malone and FBI Special Agent Avery Hill. They're all on my visitor list, so please let them through.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Scowling at that dreaded word, she accelerated through the checkpoint to her parking space. As she took the ramp to the front door, she tried to decide how best to approach Josh. Tell him now when it was just the two of them or wait for the others. Because she had only a split second to make that call, she decided to tell him now and let him know the others were on their way to talk to him.

The agent on duty opened the door and nodded to her. “Evening, ma'am.”

“Evening.” Sam wondered what they truly thought of the way she came and went as she pleased. It was probably better if she didn't know their thoughts about her. Tossing her coat over the back of the first chair she encountered, she went over to where Josh sat by himself, game controller in hand, clicking away.

“Hey,” she said as she sat with him. “Could you pause that for a second?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick come downstairs and head for the kitchen. Brant stepped out of the home office and followed Nick. Sam had no doubt they both had eyes on her as she talked to Josh.

“What's up?” Josh asked. The room had gone oddly silent without the screech of tires or manic game noise.

“I'm afraid I have some news that may be upsetting to hear.”

“The DNA isn't a match?”

“No, it's not that, although the results are back, and I'll be sending them to the detective in charge of the kidnapping in the morning.”

“Then what?”

“Your father has been murdered.” She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction.

His brows furrowed, but his expression otherwise remained passive. “Murdered,” he said slowly. “How? Where?”

“He was bludgeoned at home.” She purposely omitted the weapon used in the killing. For now, only the killer and the police—and Nick, who wouldn't breathe a word of it—had that information, and she planned to keep it that way. That tidbit could come in handy later.

Josh expelled a deep breath that sounded a lot like relief to her. “He's dead? He's really dead?”

“Yes.”

Propping his elbows on his knees, he bent his head and his shoulders began to shake. At first she thought he was crying, but then she realized he was laughing.

“You think it's
funny
that your father was murdered?”

“Yeah, kinda, in light of who he was. Nice to know he was human after all.”

“Josh, I've got to be honest with you. This isn't looking all that great for you. You were missing for a couple hours this afternoon, around the time the medical examiner estimates your father was murdered. There was no sign of forced entry, which leads us to believe he knew the person who attacked him or the person had access to the house. And when I told you the man who raised you was murdered, you laughed. Can you see how this might be a problem for you?”

His eyes went wide with what looked like shock. “You think
I
killed him?”

“I think you had opportunity and possible motive, which are two factors we look at closely in homicide investigations.”

“Let me save you some time and trouble. I didn't do it.”

“If I had a dollar for every time I've heard those words, I'd be rich.”

“This time, they're actually true. I wanted nothing to do with him. That house was the last place you'd ever find me. Ask anyone who knows me. I haven't been there in years. I had nothing to do with him being murdered, but I'm not sorry he's dead. He was a narcissistic asshole who made my life a living hell. You won't see me crying at his funeral.”

Strangely enough, Sam believed him, but they'd still have to establish his whereabouts for the missing hours to eliminate him as a suspect. “I need to get in touch with your mother. Can you tell me where she might be?”

“I take it she wasn't at home?”

“There was no one there but your father.”

“I don't know where she is. I haven't talked to her in a couple of weeks.”

“Would you mind calling her now?”

As he reached for his phone on the coffee table, the Secret Service admitted Farnsworth, Malone and Hill.

“Don't tell her your father is dead. We'll take care of that. I just need to know where she is.”

While he made the call, Sam got up to greet the others. “He says it wasn't him, he hasn't been to the house in years and won't cry at the funeral. I asked him to reach out to his mother, which he's doing now.”

Listening to his side of the conversation, Sam deduced that his mother was relieved to hear from him.

“I don't know what medication he was talking about,” Josh said. “I'm not on anything.” After a long pause, he said, “I don't know, but who ever knows with him? What're you up to?” He listened. “Is she okay?” Another pause. “It's going around. I know some other people who've had it.” He wrapped up the call, telling his mother to tell his grandmother he hoped she felt better and saying he'd call again soon. “Love you too.”

Josh looked up at Sam. “She's at my grandmother's in Chantilly. My grandmother is sick. It sounds like she has the same thing your family had.”

“Did she say how long she's been there?” Sam asked.

“You can't honestly think she had anything to do with my father's murder.”

“I didn't say anything about her having something to do with it. I asked if she said how long she's been there.”

“No, she didn't, but I got the sense she's been there awhile. My grandmother is pretty sick.”

“Do you know your grandmother's address off the top of your head?”

He eyed her for a long moment before he rattled off the address.

Sam wrote it down in her notebook.

“Mr. Hamilton, I'm Chief Farnsworth with the MPD. I've made arrangements for you to be escorted home now that the perceived threat to your safety has been neutralized.”

Josh glanced at Sam and then at the chief. “Perceived? There was nothing
perceived
about it, and when word gets out that he's dead, his henchmen will be looking for me.”

“I think it's possible you've been watching too much television,” Farnsworth said. “You were afraid of your father. Lieutenant Holland went to extraordinary lengths to keep you safe, and now your father is no longer a threat. We believe it's safe for you to return to your own home at this time, providing you remain local and available during our investigation.”

“I disagree.” He stood and turned to face the chief. “Lieutenant Holland told me the DNA results are back. I'd like to know those results before I go home.”

“And we'd like to know exactly where you were after you left the hotel this afternoon,” Malone said.

“I told Lieutenant Holland. I walked around. I ended up in Rock Creek Park and took a fall, which is why my coat was dirty and torn when I got here.”

“Rock Creek Park isn't exactly around the corner from Arlington,” Avery said.

“I walked for a long time. I was scared he was going to find me, so I went to the park. I thought I could hide there until I figured out what to do next. I'd left my wallet in the hotel, so my options were limited.”

“Did you see anyone? Talk to anyone?”

Josh shook his head. “I didn't talk to anyone. I just walked.”

“Take a seat and let us make a plan,” Sam said.

Seeming resigned, he returned to his seat on the sofa, the controller in hand, but the game remained frozen on pause, like his life since Friday.

She turned to her commanders. “What do you want to do?”

* * *

I
N
THE
KITCHEN
, Nick kept an eye on the goings-on in the other room. He trusted Sam's instincts about people implicitly, but he didn't like having Josh Hamilton in his house and neither did the Secret Service. After hearing about the APB that had been issued for Hamilton earlier in the day, Brant had gone so far as to ask when he would be leaving.

When Nick's cell phone rang, he withdrew it from his pocket to check the caller ID, and took the call from Christina, his former chief of staff. “Hey, what's up?”

“I'm sorry to bother you when you're sick. I'm trying to get in touch with Sam, but her phone is going to voicemail.”

“No worries. I'm much better, and she's dealing with something for work right now.”

“Oh, um, I don't know what to do.”

She sounded as if she were about to break down.

“What's wrong, Chris?”

“Tommy... He—he's asleep, really asleep, for the first time since AJ was killed. I took his phone out of the room so he wouldn't be disturbed. I just got out of the shower and noticed that he'd missed a recall to work. He's going to be furious, especially with Sam suspended, but I can't bring myself to wake him. He needs the sleep so badly.” Her voice caught on a sob.

“I'll tell Sam, and she'll smooth it with the brass. She's working the case, so let him sleep.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, her sobs echoing through the phone.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm trying to be. It's been rough. Really, really rough.”

“What can I do for you? Name it. Anything.”

“You're sweet to offer, but I've talked him into counseling. I'm pinning all my hopes on that. We have an appointment tomorrow with Trulo.”

“That's a good first step. He helped Sam a lot after what happened with Stahl. I don't know that she would've found her way back to work without Trulo.”

“I'm worried about him, Nick. He's wrecked.”

“It's going to take some time, but he'll get through it. He's tough.”

“Usually, yes, but this... I've never seen him like this.”

“If you need us, you know where we are. Always.”

She blew out a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Do you need some company? I could come sit with you or help with Alex or something.”

“You can't just come over the way you used to, but it's nice of you to offer.”

“I can come, and I will if it would help.”

“I thought you were on lockdown with the flu.”

“I know how to escape if need be.”

She laughed. “I love you for offering, but you stay home and get better. I'll be okay.”

“Call me tomorrow? Let me know how you guys are doing?”

“I will. Thanks again, Nick. Tell Sam to call me if she needs to.”

“You got it.”

Sam came into the kitchen as Nick was ending the call with Christina. “We're trying to relocate Josh. I wanted you to know.”

“That was Christina. She said Tommy is sleeping—really sleeping for the first time since AJ died—and she took his phone out of the bedroom. That's why he missed the recall. She was freaking out that she might've done the wrong thing.”

“No, she didn't,” Sam said with a sigh. “It's good that he's sleeping. I'll let Malone know.”

“Can I tell her it's okay?”

“Yeah, do that.”

He fired off a quick text to Christina, conveying Sam's message.

She wrote right back.
Thank you both. xo.

“She also said she's talked Gonzo into seeing Trulo. They have an appointment tomorrow.”

“That's good news. Let's hope it helps.”

Nick put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “What's up with the case?”

“We're figuring that out now.” She looked up at him. “How're you feeling?”

“Totally fine.”

“That's not possible. You were in the hospital yesterday.”

Tipping her chin up, he kissed her. “I. Am. Totally.
Fine
.” Raising his brows, he added, “And ready to get back to
normal
around here.”