SAM TOOK A left into the driveway of the school, where they were forced to stop at a monitored gatehouse. “Whoa. Check this out. What’s up with the gate guard?”
“The president’s grandchildren and other VIP kids go here.”
“How do you know that?”
“I read the paper. Do you?”
“Not as much as I did before my husband was the daily headline.” At the gatehouse, Sam showed her badge. “Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz, MPD.”
“What can we do for you, ma’am?” the guard asked, his eyes bugging at the sight of her.
“We’d like to speak to the administrator, please.”
“May I ask what this is in reference to?”
“You can certainly ask, but I won’t tell you. Please let us in.”
“One moment, please.” He went back into his hut and picked up the phone.
“Add security guards to the list of people who annoy me.”
“Above or below receptionists?”
“Below. Way below. Receptionists are in a category all their own.”
Freddie pretended to make a note. “Got it.”
Sam adored him and the way he rolled with her. He certainly made work a lot more entertaining than it had been before he’d been her partner. “Let me ask you something.”
“What?” He’d learned to be wary where she was concerned, and she liked him that way.
“Gonzo.”
“What about him?”
“Is he up for keeping things together if I take a few weeks off?”
“Why wouldn’t he be?”
Sam chose her words carefully. Since she wasn’t sure she had anything to be worried about, she didn’t want to alarm him needlessly, especially this week. “No reason. Just wondering.”
“He seems okay to me. He’s different than he was before, but that’s to be expected, I suppose.”
“Yeah.” Sam looked over to find the guard still on the phone. She leaned on the horn.
He scowled at her.
She hit the horn again. Out the window, she said, “You’re wasting my time, and people who waste my time irritate me.”
“You don’t want to irritate her,” Freddie said.
“I’m about to drive through this gate.”
“Ohh, do it,” Freddie said gleefully. “I dare you!”
Sam eyed the gate, trying to decide if it was worth potentially damaging the BMW Nick had tricked out for her. Just as she was about to hit the gas, the gate went up. “Bummer.”
Freddie busted up laughing.
Sam navigated the driveway that led to a large stone structure with ivy on the walls. “This is a preschool?”
“It’s a rich people preschool.”
“Ahh, that explains it.” She parked in the fire lane outside the main entrance and got out.
“Ma’am, you can’t park there,” the same security guard from the hut said, huffing from the effort it took to chase after her.
“Already did.” Sam took the stairs two at a time and encountered another roadblock—a locked door and an intercom. Flashing her badge at the security camera above the door, she pushed the button three times. “Lieutenant Holland, MPD. Let me in right now, or I’ll arrest everyone in the building.”
“I’m not doing that paperwork,” Freddie said.
She buzzed three more times, and the door clicked open. “For fuck’s sake,” she said as they went inside, where they landed in the main office, staffed by women who stared at them as if they were aliens.
“Who’s in charge here?” Sam asked.
All eyes turned to an older, stern-looking woman, who looked like she’d been sucking on a particularly sour kosher dill for the last five years. “What do you want?” she asked in a tone dripping with disdain.
Sam went to her. “I need to discuss a fatal fire at the home of the Beauclair family. I understand their children are students here.”
At that, her pickle puss eased ever so slightly. “The children...”
Sam lowered her voice so the others wouldn’t overhear. “Have not yet been located. We believe the parents are deceased. May we speak in private?”
“Yes, of course. Right this way.”
Dead people had a way of opening doors. Sam and Freddie followed her down a hallway into an elegant room that looked more like a Victorian parlor than an office. “May I offer you some coffee or tea?”
“No, thank you,” Sam said before Freddie could accept. This wasn’t a fucking social call. “What’s your name?”
“Beatrice Reeve.”
“And you are?”
“The school director.”
“And you’re acquainted with the Beauclair family?”
“Oh yes. Cleo and the children have become a big part of our community. This is their first year here, and we’ve so enjoyed having them. They’re very well behaved and just a joy to be around. They aren’t... The children...”
“We don’t know yet. What can you tell us about Cleo Beauclair?”
“She’s a lovely person, a dedicated mother. She’s given so much of her time to the school this year. Most of the mothers drop their children and leave, but she spends the day here helping out until it’s time for the kids to go home.”
“And that’s unusual?”
“Oh yes. Highly unusual. Don’t get me wrong—many of our parents are exceptional volunteers but few give as much time as Cleo does. Or did. Is she really gone?”
“We don’t know that for sure yet. Did you know Mr. Beauclair?”
“I met him once when they came to tour the school before enrolling the children.”
“Going back to what you said about Mrs. Beauclair volunteering,” Freddie said. “Did she stay every day that the kids were here or just some of the days?”
“Every day. We were so thankful for her help. There’s always something that needs to be done.”
“And how many days a week did the children attend school?” Freddie asked.
“Five days. They were in our kindergarten program, which runs from eight until one every day.”
Freddie wrote the info in his notebook.
“If there’s anything at all we can do to assist you, I hope you’ll let me know.” She gave each of them her business card.
“Thank you,” Sam said, handing over hers. “I appreciate that. I’d also appreciate being waved right through if I have to come back for any reason.”
“Why would you need to come back?”
“Hard telling. But you should instruct your tin soldier at the gate to let me or any member of my team through without a hassle. We’re just doing our jobs. We appreciate people who make our jobs easier.”
“I understand.”
“I hope so.” To Freddie, she said, “Let’s go.”
When they were in the car and on the way back to HQ, she said, “What do you think?”
“I don’t have kids, but do you find it odd that Cleo stayed at the school every day that her kids were there?”
“Very odd. It tells me she was afraid of something happening to them when she couldn’t be there to keep them safe. What was she afraid of? That’s what I want to know.”
“I’d like to know that too. Don’t forget we need to stop at the tux place.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Freddie’s phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID. “Speaking of the future Mrs. Cruz,” he said, grinning like a loon. “Gotta take this. Hey, babe.” He paused. “Elin? Elin! What the hell?”
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
“She said my name, and then the phone went dead.”
“Call her back.”
He put through the call.
Sam kept one eye on the road and one on him.
“It went right to voice mail.”
“Where is she today?”
“Home. She took the week off.”
Sam checked her side-view mirror and then made a U-turn toward the Woodley Park neighborhood where Freddie and Elin lived. She flipped on emergency lights and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
“You don’t think...”
“Overabundance of caution.”
“Yes, that’s good,” he said, clearly trying to stay calm. “She’s fine. Of course, she is.”
“Track her phone.”
His fingers moved over the screen of his phone while Sam steered the car through an intersection, bracing for an impact that didn’t happen. After being hit broadside a few weeks ago, now she expected it every time she ran a red light in the line of duty.
“It’s off.” The two words conveyed a world of panic. “Sam.”
“Breathe. Just breathe. We’ll be there in two minutes.”
They both knew a lot could happen in two minutes. “Call it in.”
“What am I calling in?”
“Get us some backup at your place. Just in case we need it.”
He seemed frozen as he pondered the implications of needing backup.
“Freddie! Call it in!”
He made the call, and she heard fear in every word as he asked for backup at the home he shared with Elin.
They darted around traffic, ran red lights and made fast time getting to Woodley Park.
“Go left here,” Freddie said. “It’s shorter.”
Sam followed his directions, tires squealing as she took the turn, tightening her hold on the wheel so she wouldn’t lose control of the car. The ten minutes it took to get there felt like an eternity to her. She couldn’t begin to imagine how Freddie must feel. She slammed on the brakes outside his building and was out of the car before it even stopped moving.
Freddie was ahead of her, his hands shaking as he used his key to gain access to the vestibule. It took two tries, and Sam was about to take the keys from him when the door swung open. The first thing she saw was blood on the floor and stairs, as well as a cell phone lying on the bottom step. She propped the door open so other officers could get in.
“That’s her phone!”
“Don’t touch it!” She gave him a push up the stairs, which he took three at a time.
Noting the trail of blood on the stairs, Sam scrambled to keep up with him as they made their way to the third floor, where they found his apartment door wide-open. She grabbed his arm to stop him from going in and reached for her weapon.
“Freddie,” Sam whispered, pointing to the other side of the doorway. She watched him marshal the fortitude to follow procedure, to not barge into a possible crime in progress without proper preparation. She could see it took everything he had to stop himself, to think like a cop and not like the man in love with the woman who lived there with him.
“Go,” she said softly, letting him take the lead while she covered him. She hoped their backup would be right behind them.
They walked into a bloody nightmare, blood on the floor, the sofa, the kitchen counter and a knife on the floor also covered in blood.
Freddie’s knees buckled.
Sam grabbed him, which was the only thing that kept him standing.
“Elin,” he said on a whimper.
“Sit.” She pushed him into a chair while she went to check the bedroom, which was clear. Sam returned to the living room and holstered her weapon.
“What the hell?” The sheer terror in his expression fueled Sam’s panic. Where the fuck was she?
“Remember not to touch anything.” Sam made a second, more urgent request for backup and then called Malone to fill him in.
“There’s blood everywhere and no sign of her?” Malone asked.
“Right, and a bloody knife on the kitchen floor. She called Freddie and said his name before the phone went dead. We found the phone in the vestibule but didn’t touch it.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Sam closed her phone and tried to remain calm for Freddie.
“What do I do?” he asked, standing. “I have to do something.”
“We’ll find her. Just keep breathing. There might be a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do, so don’t blow smoke up my ass.” He bent at the waist, hands on knees. Then he straightened. “I’m going down to see where the blood leads.”
While he did that, Sam knocked on the neighbors’ doors. No one was home in the first three she tried. The fourth was answered by an older woman who let out a scream of surprise at seeing Sam on her doorstep. In the background, the TV was set to blare.
“You’re the second lady! Oh my God! I am such a huge fan of your husband’s!” In a low, sultry tone, she added, “He’s so handsome and sexy.”
Sam showed her badge, which shut the woman up as she’d hoped it would. “Did you hear anything in the hallway in the last hour or so? My partner lives three doors down and came home to blood all over the place.”
“Oh no! I didn’t hear a thing, but my TV is loud, so I can hear it. He’s such a sweet young guy, and the two of them are so in love. They’re adorable. Is she...”
“We don’t know anything yet. If you’re sure you didn’t hear anything, I’ll let you get back to your day.”
Before the woman could continue talking, Sam walked away, placing a call to Gonzo as she went. He answered on the second ring.
“Hey, sorry about this morning. What a clusterfuck—”
“Gonzo!”
“What’s wrong?”
“You need to get over to Cruz’s place right away. Elin is gone, and there’s blood everywhere.”
“What? What happened?”
“We have no idea. She called him, said his name in a frantic tone, and then the phone went dead. We found the phone in the vestibule along with a lot of blood.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Bring the cavalry, Gonzo. We have to find her.”
“Got it. We’re coming.”
Sam walked to the stairway as Freddie came back up, dodging the blood on the stairs as he went. “What’d you find?”
“The blood ends at the curb. She got into a vehicle.”
Sam thought about that for a second. “Do you know her phone code?”
“Yes.”
“Go get it. Bag it, bring it up and let’s charge it. We can check her activity.”
He moved quickly down the stairs and was back within seconds. Careful to not touch or disturb anything in the apartment, Freddie plugged the phone into a charger, while keeping it in the evidence bag. “I’ve been telling her she needs to get a new phone. This one doesn’t hold a charge. But she’s been so busy with the wedding and everything.”
His voice caught on the last word, and he hung his head.
Sam put her hand on his back, wishing she could find a way to comfort him. “Try not to go to worst-case. Not yet.”
He eyed the bloody knife on the floor and the blood all over the counter and floor. Then he brought his tortured gaze to meet hers. “You mean to tell me you wouldn’t be freaking out if you came home to this?”
“I would be, and I understand why you are, but she’s smart and resourceful and—”
“And she’s bleeding. Profusely.”
The two of them stood over the phone, willing it to charge.
A few minutes later, the pound of footsteps on the stairs had her running for the door to greet Gonzo, Green, Jeannie McBride and Malone, noting that they too hadn’t touched the blood smeared onto the stairs. The four of them looked as undone as Sam felt.
“Holy shit,” Gonzo whispered, taking in the blood all over the apartment.
Sam’s brain finally began working again as the shock wore off. These things were so different, from a police standpoint, when the person involved was a close friend or loved one. “Assuming the blood is hers, Cruz was able to determine she got into a vehicle at the curb. I want you guys checking every hospital in the city to see if she’s there. And someone call emergency dispatch to see if there was a call made from her phone. Freddie! What’s her number?”
He rattled it off while Jeannie wrote it down.
“We’re on it,” Jeannie said. “We’ll find her, Freddie.”
Freddie nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks.”
Gonzo went to him, put a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly to his friend. Whatever he said brought tears to Freddie’s eyes. Gonzo hugged him. “We’re going to find her.”
Freddie nodded again and wiped his tears. Through the bag, he pushed the button to turn on the phone, but nothing happened. “Come on!”
“Give it a few more minutes,” Sam said, knowing as he did that every second counted and minutes were like hours at a time like this.
While Freddie continued to stare at the phone, willing it to charge, Sam went to speak to Malone.
Hands on hips, he took a good look around the stylishly furnished apartment. Sam was ashamed of the fact that she’d never been there. When they got together outside of work, they usually did so at her house where it was easier for Nick. After the wedding, she’d make sure they came to Freddie’s place for once.
“What the hell is this, Sam?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did.”
Jeannie, who’d been in the hallway working the phones with the others, poked her head in. “No 9-1-1 call from her number.”
“Okay,” Sam said, her heart sinking. She’d hoped that Elin had called for help and had been picked up by an ambulance or Patrol officer who might’ve taken the call. “Speaking of Patrol, where the fuck are they? We called for backup twenty minutes ago.”
“They’re dealing with a huge accident over by Penn Quarter,” Malone said. “Ten cars involved.”
“What if we’d encountered an active shooter here or a crime in progress?”
“Thankfully, you didn’t.”
They passed a tense fifteen minutes with detectives working the phones while Sam tried to keep Freddie calm.
A shout went out from the hallway.
Green came to the door. “GW E.R. has her! She has a severe cut to the hand that was bleeding so hard she didn’t wait around for help. She flagged down a cab.”
Freddie covered his face with his hands as his shoulders shook. “Thank you, Jesus.”
Sam went to him, wrapped her arms around him and held on tight until he got himself together. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to her.”
“I thought...”
“I know, but she’s fine. She’s fine. Or she will be after some stitches from the sound of it. Come on. Let’s go.”
Keeping her hand on his back, Sam led him to the door.
“Thanks, you guys,” he said to his colleagues. “I appreciate it so much.”
“No problem,” Jeannie said for all of them. “We’re glad she’s okay.”
“Can you...” Sam tipped her head toward the apartment.
“Yes, of course,” Jeannie said. “We’ll clean up.”
“Thank you.” To Malone, Sam said, “We talked to the administrator at the Beauclair kids’ school. The mom never left them there alone. Worked as a volunteer every day that they were in attendance, which was five days a week.”
“That’s something,” Malone said.
“I also have the address of the Beauclairs’ recently fired maid.” She handed him the page from her notebook. “Send Green and McBride to talk to her.”
“Got it. We’ll pick it up. You stay with Cruz for as long as he needs you.”
“See you back at the house.” She escorted Freddie downstairs, noting he still stepped around the blood on the stairs like the trained professional he was. “The others will clean up.”
“They don’t have to. I’ll do it when we get home.”
“They want to help.”
“How long do you think it’ll be before my heart beats normally again?”
“It’s apt to be a while.”
“I was thinking of every perp I’ve ever arrested, every altercation I’ve ever had on the job. The list of people who’d have reason to get even with me is long.”
“Not as long as mine.”
“Long enough that it wouldn’t take much to ruin my life.” They got into her car. “We’re moving to a building with better security. If we’d had a doorman, this whole thing never would’ve happened.”
“True, but can you afford that?”
“No, but I can less afford to lose her. I had forty-five minutes to ponder life without her, and I’ll pay whatever it costs to ensure her safety.”
“Can’t say I blame you. That was pretty fucking scary.”
“Yeah.”
That he didn’t comment on her language told her just how scared he’d been. It would take a while for the fear and shock to work their way out of his system—and hers.