Fatal Flaw Read Free Page B

that’s got to do with me.”
    “You lived for a time in Washington Highlands.” She recited an address on First Avenue.
    “So?”
    “We found clippings, photos and other items referring to the shooting at that address after you lived there.”
    Gardner propped his elbows on the table and leaned in. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told those other detectives the day you arrested me—I didn’t shoot no cop on G Street.”
    “If you expect me to believe that, you’ll need to tell me where you were that day.”
    He slapped his hand on the table. “I don’t fucking know!”
    “Let me refresh your memory.” She listed his credit-card transactions for the day in question. “Ringing any bells?”
    “Nope.”
    “Too bad.” Sam relaxed into her chair. “I was willing to offer up a deal on the charges of assaulting police officers with a deadly weapon in exchange for information about the 2008 shooting. But now…” She shrugged.
    “You can take your deal and shove it up your ass.”
    Sam put the photos of her father back in the folder and closed it. “Then I guess we’re done here.” She stood up. “The deal expires in forty-eight hours.” Leaving the room, she tried to ignore the subtle tremble in her hands. She’d love to plow her fist into his sanctimonious face, but that wouldn’t get her any closer to the answers she needed.
    “You did everything you could,” Captain Malone said.
    Sam nodded.
    “Take a deep breath.”
    She took two of them.
    “We’ll keep digging. We’ll keep looking. We’ll never stop until we close this case.”
    The captain was one of her father’s closest friends. Unable to trust herself to make eye contact with him, she nodded again. She couldn’t escape the overwhelming feeling that she was letting everyone down by not being able to solve this most important of cases. To the deputy standing guard, she said, “You can take him back.”
    “Yes, ma’am, Lieutenant.”
    “Do you know what that pile of crap on my desk is all about?” Sam asked the captain as they made their way to the detectives’ pit.
    “Wedding cards, I believe.”
    Startled, Sam stared up at him. “Get the hell out of here.”
    “We were inundated. They came in all last week. I heard there’s another bag in the mailroom.”
    “God,” Sam said, “how embarrassing.”
    “Think of it this way,” Malone said, laughing, “your undercover days are over.”
    “There is that.” Sam hated working undercover—never more so than during her tumultuous investigation into the Johnson family’s drug ring, which had resulted in a child being shot and killed. Many months later, thoughts of that night still had the power to make her sick.
    “So how was the trip?”
    “Good.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Just ‘good’?”
    “Nice try, but that’s all you’re getting.”
    Entering the pit, Sam received a warm welcome back from her detectives. Even though she was still smarting from the unsuccessful confrontation with Gardner, Sam accepted the good-natured ribbing about her tan, the honeymoon, the wedding and everything else they could think of.
    “All right, everyone,” Sam said. “Playtime’s over. Get to work.” She went into her office, flipped on the light and took a closer look at the enormous pile of cards that she had barely glanced at earlier.
    The last thing she felt like dealing with on her first day back to work was a stack of mail, but since she had no choice but to wait for autopsy and crime scene reports from Carl’s, she sat at her desk and flipped through the cards. They were addressed to Sam Holland, Mrs. Nicholas Cappuano, Mrs. Senator Cappuano, Mrs. Sam Cappuano and Lt. Sam Holland. The many identities amused her. For the record, she might be married now, but she wasn’t changing her name at work.
    Her husband —she still got a kick out of saying that—was just fine with that, which was all that mattered to her. She’d told him on their wedding night that she planned to