Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(33)

“I’ll let you get to it. Be careful with my wife. I love her very much.”

“She loves you too. See you later.”

“Call me if you need me.”

“I will.” Sam closed the phone and stashed it in her pocket, planning to put in her shift and go home to her family as soon as she could. Her father’s case had been lingering for four years. It wouldn’t be solved in a day of new effort. Hell, it still might never be solved, a thought that profoundly depressed her.

When her cell phone rang, she took the call from Gonzo. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you come outside for a minute? Morgue entrance?”

“I’m coming.” Before heading for the morgue, she ducked her head into the conference room, where Cruz, Green and McBride were sorting through boxes containing her father’s files. “I’ll be back in a few. Feel free to dive in.”

“What’re we looking for, Lieutenant?” Green asked.

“I have no idea. I just hope we’ll recognize it when we see it.”

“Got it. We’re on it.”

She took off for the morgue entrance and had the spectacularly bad luck of encountering Sergeant Ramsey coming down the stairs from the second floor, back from serving his latest suspension. She noted with satisfaction that he had nasty scabs on his face and hands from when he’d fallen through the window.

“Awww, so sad about your daddy.” His condescending tone had become familiar to her. “Who’s going to protect you now?”

Having learned her lesson after punching him once before, she resisted the urge this time and kept moving, determined not to give him the satisfaction of rattling her. But if consequences weren’t a factor, she’d happily stab the son of a bitch through the heart with the rustiest steak knife she could find.

She pushed open the exit door by the morgue and stepped into the chilly autumn air.

Across the parking lot, Gonzo stood outside Christina’s car, arms crossed.

Christina waved to her from the driver’s seat.

“Thanks for coming out. I didn’t think it was a good idea to go inside when I’m supposedly on sick leave.”

“No problem.” He looked good, Sam thought again, relieved by the return of the sharp-eyed gaze she remembered from before disaster struck. “Whatever they’re doing for you in Baltimore seems to be working.”

“So it would seem.”

“You’re going back?”

He nodded. “We’re leaving now, but I wanted to see you before I go.”

“I’m glad you came by.”

“I wish I could help with what I’m sure you’re working on today.”

“You need to focus on yourself and your health. That’s what I want you to do. We need you whole and healthy.”

“I’m working on it. Are you okay?”

“I’m hanging in there. It’ll help to give the case a fresh look.”

“I won’t keep you.” He stepped forward to hug her. “Take care of yourself, Sam. Ask for help if you need it. Sometimes I wonder what might’ve been different if I’d done that.”

She returned the hug. “I hear you. Thanks for being here for everything. Means a lot.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it. You know how much we all loved him.”

“I do. Your friendship meant a lot to him.”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Let us know when you can have visitors.” She smiled. “We’ll get the Secret Service to drive us up.”

“I’ll do that.” He went around to get into the car.

Sam knocked on Christina’s window. “Call me if you need anything,” she said after Christina lowered the window.

“You do the same.”

Sam nodded and waved them off, comforted to see her sergeant and close friend seeming better. Finally. There had been times over the last nine months when she’d had cause to wonder if he’d ever get past the awful tragedy of Arnold’s death. She’d wondered if he would be able to continue to do the job.

Detective Will Tyrone had left the department after his close friend Arnold’s death, because he couldn’t bear to do the job anymore. Gonzo had told Freddie that Will was lucky to be able to quit, something Gonzo didn’t have the luxury of doing with a family to support. Now, perhaps, it was safe to hope he would get the help he needed, find a way to cope and get back on track in all areas of his life.

As she went back to the pit, she was waylaid again, this time by Dr. Trulo, the department shrink. “A word, Lieutenant?”

With him it was never a word. It was always a lot of words. Resigned to everyone wanting something from her today, she led him into her office. “I just saw Gonzo. He’s heading back to rehab.”

Trulo closed the door. “I thought he seemed much better when I saw him at the funeral.”

“Agreed, but it’s early days yet. I’m taking it as a good sign that he’s willingly returning to treatment.”

“It’s a very good sign.” He gave her an assessing look, his gaze sharp and focused as always. “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m okay.” Maybe if she kept saying it, people would eventually quit asking.