FREDDIE’S HANDS WERE still shaking when they arrived at the George Washington University Hospital fifteen torturous minutes later.
Sam drove up to the E.R. entrance. “Go. I’ll park.”
“Thank you.”
He jumped out of the car and rushed inside to the main desk, where the nurse recognized him. “She’s not here. We haven’t seen her in a while.” It took a second for him to realize she meant Sam, who was a frequent flier. “My fiancée was brought in earlier with a cut hand. Elin Svendsen?”
“Oh right. I didn’t realize she was your fiancée. Right this way.”
Freddie wanted to correct her. Elin wasn’t just his fiancée. She was his whole world, and when he’d thought he might’ve lost her... The rest of his life had stretched before him like a barren wasteland.
He followed the nurse down a hallway and heard Elin crying and asking for him. The nurse pointed to a door, and Freddie rushed past her, into the room where he found Elin in a bed, her face so pale she blended in with the linens. Though tears had made her eyes puffy and red, she had never looked more beautiful to him.
“Freddie!” While a doctor tended to her left hand, she held out her right hand to him.
He took her hand and bent over the rail to kiss her.
“You have to hold still,” the doctor said.
She whimpered. “Hurts.”
Freddie couldn’t speak or move or do anything other than breathe her in. He wanted to know what’d happened, but he couldn’t find the words to ask. His only thought or emotion was pure relief.
“Freddie.”
“I’m here, baby.”
She cried out in pain.
“Sorry,” the doctor said. “We’re going to numb it and stitch you up. The numbing will be the worst of it, but after that, you won’t feel anything sharp or painful. Ready?”
Elin looked up at Freddie, her pale blue eyes big with fear and shock.
“Stay focused on me,” Freddie said. “Just look at me.”
Tears exploded from her eyes as the first shot was administered.
He wished he could take the pain for her. Holding her head against his chest, he ran his fingers through her white-blond hair, feeling her tense with each subsequent shot to the palm of her hand.
“That was the last one,” the doctor said.
Elin relaxed ever so slightly. “I can’t believe this happened! Why this week?”
“What exactly happened?”
“I was using the knife to get a price tag off one of the candles and it slipped, slicing my palm wide-open. I tried to call you, but my phone went dead. I dropped it at some point. What a disaster!”
“You have no idea.”
“What does that mean?”
“After you called, Sam and I went home to check on you and found blood everywhere—the vestibule, the stairs, the apartment. Your phone was on the floor inside the vestibule, and our apartment door was open. You can’t begin to know the scenarios that ran through my head, especially after I saw a bloody knife on the kitchen floor.”
“I’m so sorry, Freddie,” she said, breaking down again. “You told me to get a new phone, but I’ve been so busy. And the blood was just pumping out of my hand. I almost passed out. I ran for the street and got a cab. The guy yelled at me for bleeding all over his car, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing getting yourself to the hospital quickly.”
“Indeed,” the doctor said as he sewed the wound. “You lost a lot of blood.”
“We’re getting married on Saturday,” Elin said. “Can you make it so I don’t have a huge ugly bandage?”
“We’ll set you up. Don’t worry.”
Elin breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re not allowed to ever scare me like this again, you hear me?” Freddie asked, filled with gratitude as he stared at her gorgeous face. “You took ten years off my life.”
“And mine,” Sam said when she joined them. “How’s the patient?”
“She’s going to be just fine,” Freddie said, kissing Elin’s forehead.
“Thank God for that,” Sam said.
“Yes,” Freddie said. “Thank God for that.”
* * *
AFTER THEY FINISHED cleaning up the bloody disaster in Cruz’s apartment, Cameron Green drove Jeannie McBride to the District’s southeastern quadrant to interview the Beauclairs’ former maid.
“That was insane back there,” he said after a long silence.
“Totally. Imagine what he had to be thinking coming home to that.”
“I can’t imagine. The poor guy. Thank goodness she’s okay.”
“What a thing to have happen the week of their wedding,” Jeannie said with a sigh.
“Thankfully all’s well that ends well.” He glanced over at her. “Could I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“The LT called me in to talk about Gonzo this morning. She acknowledged the tough spot she was putting me in, but she wanted to know if he’s seemed off to me.”
“What’d you say?”
“A little, maybe? I’m not sure I know him well enough yet to say, which is why I wanted to ask what you think.”
“He’s way off and has been since Arnold was killed. If you knew him before, you’d know what I mean. He’s like a totally different person now, although I can’t really blame him.” After a long pause, Jeannie said, “What happened to Arnold was so awful, and there was nothing he could do but watch his partner die. And this was after Arnold saved Gonzo’s life when a bullet grazed his neck. Gonzo would’ve bled out without Arnold’s quick thinking.”
“Oh damn. I’ve seen the scar on his neck, but I didn’t know how he got it.”
“Part of me was surprised when he came back to work after Arnold was killed. He was so traumatized that I wondered if he would quit, but he told Cruz he had to come back because he has a family to support. Walking away isn’t an option for him like it was for Will.”
“Didn’t Will end up with a cool security job?”
“Yep.”
“Maybe that would be better for Gonzo after everything he’s been through.”
“Possibly, but I’d sure hate to lose him on the squad. We’re like family to each other. Losing A.J. and then Will. It’s been a tough year.”
“You ever wonder how long the LT can hang on to the job in light of her husband’s career?”
“She says she’s not going anywhere. Nick certainly knows what the job means to her.”
Cameron’s phone directed them to the address Sam had given them. “That’s it there,” he said, pointing to an apartment building that had seen better days. He pulled into a no-parking zone.
He and Jeannie walked up a flight of stairs outside the building to the second floor.
“Was this a motel at one time?” he asked.
“I think it might’ve been.”
Outside apartment 2F, they stood on either side while he pounded on the door and said, “Metro PD.” He held his badge up to the peephole while listening for signs of life inside. At first, he didn’t hear anything.
“What do you want?” a fearful-sounding female voice asked.
“We need to speak to you about the Beauclair family.”
“I didn’t steal from them! I love them! I would never steal from them.”
“This isn’t about that. Would you mind opening the door please?”
A series of locks disengaged, and the door opened to reveal a pretty young woman with a tearstained face. “I didn’t do what she said. I swear to God.” Though her speech had a heavy Spanish accent, her English was perfect. She broke down into sobs. “A-are you going to arrest me?”
“Could we come in to speak in private?” Cameron asked.
“Show me your badges again.”
They held up their gold shields for her inspection. After a close look at their badges, she took a step back to admit them to the clean, well-decorated room that included a bed, kitchen, sitting area and television. She had made herself a nice home in the run-down building.
“Ms. Cortez, I’m sorry to have to tell you, but there was a fire at the Beauclairs’ home last night.”
She gasped. “The babies! My Aubrey and Alden! Please tell me...”
“They’re currently unaccounted for. We did find two adult victims, however. We haven’t yet positively identified them.”
She broke down into what could only be called heartbroken sobs. “Oh no, no, no. Not my family.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked as she sobbed.
“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Jeannie said.
“They were good people,” Milagros said. “I was hoping they would find out who stole the jewelry, so I could go back to work there. I loved them and their sweet babies. Oh, Elijah! Mr. Beauclair has an older son. Did someone tell him?”
“We’re taking care of notifying him,” Cameron said.
Milagros sagged into the sofa. “I can’t believe this has happened.”
“Ms. Cortez,” Cameron said, “if I may ask, when were you let go from your job?”
“Yesterday afternoon.” She wiped away new tears. “Cleo... She said jewelry was missing from the box on her dresser, and since I was the only one who had access, it had to be me. I tried to tell her it wasn’t me, but she wouldn’t hear it. She said I was to take my things and get out immediately. I couldn’t believe it. One minute we were chatting like we did every day, and the next she was so cold and heartless.”
Cameron glanced at Jeannie, wondering if she found that as strange as he did. “And it wasn’t like her to be that way with you?”
“Oh no. We were friends, or so I thought. Every day, when she and the kids came home from school, we’d have hot chocolate and cookies together, and the kids would tell us what they learned.” She jumped up and went to her refrigerator, returning with handfuls of colorful drawings that she thrust at them, as if needing them to see how close she’d been to the family. “The children made these for me. I have their school pictures.” She gestured to framed photos prominently displayed next to her television. “They are my family.” Her eyes filled with new tears that slid down her cheeks.
“Ms. Cortez,” Cameron said, deciding to level with her, “it’s quite possible that Mrs. Beauclair saved your life by firing you.”
She gasped. “What?”
“Did someone enter the house before you were let go?”
She thought about that for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “I went to the bathroom that’s off the laundry room. I heard the doorbell, and the missus said she would get it.” Her hands began to shake. “When she came back, she... Oh my God. There was someone else in the house, and she wanted me to go!” She broke down again. “She didn’t fire me because I stole from her. That wasn’t why.”
“No, ma’am,” Cameron said softly.
“What time did the doorbell ring?” Jeannie asked.
“It had to be around four thirty. The kids had gone upstairs to play.”
“What time did Mr. Beauclair usually get home?”
“Seven or after, but he was due home early that night because it was their anniversary. They’d planned to go out to dinner, which is why I was doubly surprised when she accused me of stealing and told me to get out. I was supposed to stay with the kids while they went to dinner.”
“Do you know where they had reservations?”
She mentioned a five-star restaurant in Georgetown that Cameron had heard of. He made a note of it, intending to call to see if they’d let the restaurant know they weren’t coming.
“One other thing,” he said. “Can you tell me if they had a security system in the house?”
“They did, and it was always on when they were asleep.”
“And was it monitored off-site?”
“I don’t know anything about it.”
We need to figure that out, Cameron thought, making a note to follow up. To Jeannie, he said, “I’m going to call this in.” He stood and went outside where he called the restaurant, asked to speak to the manager and confirmed that the Beauclairs had missed their reservation the night before and hadn’t called to cancel.
“Were they regulars?” Cameron asked.
“At least twice a month,” Martin, the manager, said.
“It was unusual for them to not call to cancel?”
“Very much so. They were always very courteous. Has something happened?”
“There was a fire at their home last night.”
“Oh no! Are they all right?”
“I really can’t say anything more at this time.”
“We’ll pray for them and their family.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“I wish it could’ve been more.”
Cameron ended that call and placed one to Malone to update him on what the maid and restaurant manager had told him.
“This gives us a timeline to work with on when the invasion began,” Malone said. “You don’t like the fired maid for this?”
“Not one iota. She loved them and was heartbroken to be let go. When I told her Mrs. Beauclair probably saved her life by getting her out of there, she bawled her head off.”
“Good work, Detective. Thanks for the update.”
“It’s the lieutenant’s good work, and Detective Cruz’s. They tracked down the maid. We just did the follow-up. Any word on Cruz’s fiancée?”
“Sam called to say she’s getting stitches but doing well.”
“Glad to hear it. We’ll be back soon. We need to figure out who monitored their home security.”
“See you when you get here.”