“When do you leave on vacation?” Detective Cameron Green asked.

  “High noon.”

  “Ah, I’m so jealous,” Detective Gigi Dominguez said. “You’ll have the best time.”

  “That’s the goal, and I’m happy to see you here. How’re you holding up?”

  “We’re okay.” Gigi glanced at Cameron, her boyfriend. “Thank you for giving us your lawyer friend Andy’s number. We’re going to reach out to him soon.”

  They were recently sued, along with the department, for the wrongful deaths of Cameron’s ex-girlfriend and her mother. The two had been killed after they took Gigi and Jeannie McBride hostage in separate incidents. Both were clean shots, and Sam had full confidence that the lawsuits would go nowhere. But she felt for Gigi and Cam, who were dealing with the awful stress of a looming Internal Affairs hearing and a lawsuit while managing a relatively new relationship that had been making them both very happy until his ex-girlfriend intervened.

  “When’s your IAB hearing?” Sam asked her.

  “Wednesday,” Gigi said.

  “Shit, I wanted to be there. I’ll be sure to put in a good word ahead of the hearing.”

  “I’d appreciate anything you can do.”

  “Of course. Don’t lose any sleep over this stuff. You survived. That’s what matters.”

  “I’ve been trying to tell her that,” Cam said.

  “It’s a tough thing to take a life, even if it was done to save your own,” Sam said. “If you get so jaded you aren’t affected by that you should hang up your gold shield and call it a day around here.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Gigi said softly. “I needed to hear that.”

  “Stay strong. You’re on the side of right here.”

  “We’re trying,” Gigi said with a warm look for Cameron.

  “The whole thing is so fucked up,” Gigi’s partner, Detective Dani Carlucci, said. “Gigi was taken hostage in her own home and fought back. How is that grounds for any of this nonsense?”

  “It’s not,” Sam said, “but she has to go through the motions and see it through, unfortunately.”

  “It’s bullshit,” Dani added.

  “Agreed,” Sam said. “Unfortunately, it’s how our world works.”

  Jeannie’s face appeared on the screen.

  “Look at our pal,” Gonzo said, smiling at the sight of their close friend, who’d been recently promoted from their squad to second-in-command.

  “I’m bursting with pride,” Sam said.

  “Thank you all for being here this morning, whether you’re in the building or logged in remotely,” Jeannie said. “We’ve called this meeting to pass along important information about a former member of the department, Leonard Stahl.”

  Sam appreciated that Jeannie didn’t give him the courtesy of referring to him by his rank. He didn’t deserve courtesy of any kind.

  “Jeez,” Gonzo said. “What now?”

  Sam’s team watched in stunned silence as Jeannie went through the presentation the commanders had been shown earlier and discussed the tip Captain Malone had received from a trusted source.

  “We’ll be asking Detective Sergeant Tommy Gonzales, on behalf of Homicide, to lead the investigation along with Detective Erica Lucas from SVU and Lieutenant Max Haggerty from Crime Scene.

  As Gonzo glanced at Sam, she gave him a smile and a thumbs-up.

  “Holy crap,” Freddie uttered after the last photo had been shown. “He’s a freaking serial killer.”

  Stahl was also facing numerous other charges for failing to perform even the most perfunctory investigations in several cases, as well as fabricating evidence that put an innocent man in prison for twenty years on bogus rape charges. “We don’t know for sure that he’s done any of this,” Sam said, “but if he did, we’ll nail his ass to the wall—again.”

  Sam had no sooner said those words than Gonzo’s radio crackled to life with a call from Dispatch for Homicide detectives to report to a dormitory at the George Washington University on Foxhall Road Northwest for a student found dead in her room.

  Chapter Two

  Gonzo could see that Sam was deeply torn as their team mobilized to respond to the call at GW. “Get going,” he said to her. “We’ve got this.”

  “I know.”

  “You guys need a break. Enjoy it.”

  “Okay, I’m leaving. Keep me posted?”

  “Nope.”

  “Come on!”

  “Go be on vacation, you whacko.”

  “I’m noting this insubordination on your next review.”

  “Whatever. Cameron, stay here and work the social media and online angles. We’ll send you the names. Also, get whatever Deputy Chief McBride has on this latest situation with Stahl and start to work on a plan of attack. Gigi and Dani, go on home. The rest of you, let’s go.” Gigi was on administrative leave until her case wound through the Internal Affairs process, and Dani worked overnight.

  Gonzo could feel Sam watching them as they left the pit and headed for the morgue exit to tend to yet another murder victim, this one a college student. The younger ones were the worst, and they’d just closed a case that had included four dead kids.

  “Why’d you leave Cam behind?” Cruz asked.

  “He’s no good to us in the field until this shit with Gigi and IAB is worked out.”

  “That’s true. He’s a red-hot mess over it.”

  “I feel awful for them,” Gonzo said. “They’ve been so happy together, and now this.”

  “Hopefully, it’ll blow over soon,” Cruz said.

  “You ready to lead another case?” Gonzo asked him.

  Freddie balked. “What? No, I’m not ready for that. The last one almost killed me.” He’d recently taken the lead for the first time, on the Blanchet case.

  Cackling with laughter, Gonzo said, “Relax. I’ve got this one.”

  “Don’t mess with me. I’m on vacation from my ball-busting partner.”

  “She told me not to let you go soft while she’s away.”

  “She did not say that!”

  “Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t.”

  “Whatever you say, boss. Can you even believe this shit about Stahl? I mean…”

  “It’s unreal, but not totally unbelievable. We’ve known he was a son of a bitch for a long time.”

  “But possibly a serial killer? We didn’t know that.”

  “Anyone who can wrap someone in razor wire and threaten to set them on fire has issues beyond what you and I can imagine.”

  “Yeah, for sure. As horrifying as that was, though, I could apply some logic to it. He hated Skip, so naturally, he hated Skip’s daughter. Sam refused to give him an inch, so he snapped and tried to kill her. Twice.”

  “Are you trying to say that makes sense?” Gonzo asked.

  “Not to you and me, but at least there was rationale behind it from his demented point of view. What reason would he have to kill other people while pretending to be an upstanding Homicide commander?”

  “That’s anyone’s guess. If you’re trying to understand it, don’t bother. It’ll never make sense to people like us.”

  “No, it won’t, and yet… I’m still trying to wrap my head around how he could’ve been doing all this while we worked for him. How did no one notice?”

  “When you know how to solve the crimes, you also know how to hide the crimes.”

  Freddie thought about that for a minute. “I suppose that’s true.”

  Gonzo was aware that his friend’s emotions had been all over the place since his wife, Elin, had suffered a miscarriage. Shortly after that, Freddie had been thrust into the role of lead detective on the Blanchet case, which had involved the murders of four children and their parents.

  “Not sure I’ve got the bandwidth for another dead kid,” Cruz said.

  “I hear you, brother. It’s been a lot lately.”

  “When is it not a lot?”

  “Never. It’s always a lot. And speaking of shit happening, I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you—”

  “Tell me what?” Cruz asked, brows furrowed.

  “Christina is pregnant.”

  “Oh,” Cruz said on a long exhale.

  “I’m sorry about the timing.”

  “Don’t be. Of course I’m thrilled for you guys.”

  “She’s starting to show, and I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”

  “All good, man. When’s she due?”

  “In the fall.”

  “Alex must be excited.”

  “He can’t wait to be a big brother.”

  “Do you know what you’re having?” Cruz asked.

  “A girl.”

  “Oh damn. You’re going to be a girl dad.”

  “I know, and I’m terrified. She’ll rule the roost.”

  Cruz laughed. “I can’t wait to meet her. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. It’s going to happen for you guys, too. I feel that in my bones.”

  “I do, too. As Sam said, it’s good news that Elin can conceive, and we’re trying to make peace with the one we lost being not meant to be.”

  “It’s heartbreaking, though.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Gonzo brought his car to a stop outside the dormitory, which had been blocked off by the Patrol officers who’d answered the call for help. “Here we go again.”

  Business was always brisk for murder cops in a major city.

  “What’ve we got?” Gonzo asked the first Patrol officer they encountered as Detectives Charles and O’Brien arrived on the scene in O’Brien’s vehicle.

  Officer Youncy, a young Black female officer Gonzo had met before, greeted them. “Hey, Sarge, so the body was found on the third floor, room 322. A twenty-year-old junior named Rachel Fortier. Her roommate became concerned when Rachel didn’t get up for her eight o’clock class. Apparently, she never misses class, which is something her friends teased her about.”

  “Do we know where she’s from?”

  “St. Louis.”

  Gonzo ached for the parents in St. Louis, who’d soon be receiving the worst call any parent could ever get.

  “Sergeant Gonzales and Detective Cruz,” Youncy said, “this is Officer Sandoval from GW Campus Police and Grant Kingston, the residence hall coordinator.”

  “Take us up.” Gonzo nodded to the two men, who’d probably do more to complicate the investigation than help it. To Charles and O’Brien, he added, “Start with the security footage and the canvass.”

  “Uh, about the footage,” Kingston said haltingly. “Our monitoring system went down on Friday. We’re still waiting for the repair people.”

  Nothing is ever easy, Gonzo thought with growing frustration. He was still processing the news that he’d be leading the new investigation into Stahl possibly being a serial killer and now this, too. “Do the canvass,” he said to Charles. “Find out who was working the front desk last night and get us a list of who was in and out of here.”

  “You got it, Sarge,” Charles said.

  Gonzo liked working with her. She was sharp and understood the mission. The jury was still out on O’Brien. He had potential, but he reminded Gonzo of his late partner, Detective AJ Arnold, in that he was a bit clueless at times. That fleeting thought of Arnold, who’d been shot dead right in front of Gonzo, sent a shaft of pain lancing through him. God, he missed that big doofus and would mourn his tragic loss for the rest of his life.

  As they followed Youncy up two flights to the third floor, Gonzo tried to shake off the feelings of despair that came over him any time he thought of Arnold, which was often.

  Room 322 had been taped off to keep everyone out, and Gonzo recognized Youncy’s partner, Officer Clare, a young white officer who still had acne, positioned outside the door. Clare lifted the yellow tape for Gonzo and Cruz.

  They stepped inside a room divided in half—one side featured pink and purple, the other was black. Someone had taped a yellow traffic line straight down the middle of the room, which Gonzo found odd. Did that mean the roommates hadn’t gotten along?

  The victim, who had blonde hair, was still in her bed, and at first glance, he might’ve thought she was asleep until he noted the bluish tinge to her lips and skin.

  “Have you called the ME?” Gonzo asked.

  “She’s on her way,” Youncy said. “Crime Scene is delayed with most of their team now deployed to Stahl’s house.”

  The Patrol officers had done the right thing calling them, Gonzo thought, if for no other reason than to rule out murder. Whenever someone died under suspicious circumstances, they got the call. Once in a while, they later determined the person had died by natural causes.

  “There’s no way someone got in here and murdered her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Kingston said. “We pride ourselves on world-class security.”

  “But your cameras are down,” Gonzo said. “Interesting.”

  “That doesn’t mean one of our students was murdered!”

  “It sure as hell doesn’t help us figure out what happened here.”

  Gonzo withdrew his phone and called Malone.

  “What’ve you got?”

  “Twenty-year-old college student dead in her bed. No outward signs of struggle or trauma, but we haven’t looked closely yet. I’m hearing CSU is straight out at Stahl’s. Can we request mutual aid?”

  “I’ll put out the word and let you know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.”

  Local departments called on one another when they needed assistance. Hopefully, someone could provide crime scene help ASAP. Time was of the essence in these situations. Who knew if the scene had already been compromised?

  He pointed to Rachel’s phone, attached to a charger on her bedside table. “Bag that,” he said to Cruz. To Kingston, he said, “Where’s the roommate?”

  “In the lounge with others from the suite. Three rooms share two bathrooms and a common living area.”

  Pretty sweet setup, Gonzo thought as he followed Kingston to the lounge, a large public space with foosball tables, a coffee station and vending machines.

  A group of young women were huddled together, their faces swollen from crying.

  Officers Phillips and Jestings, who were watching over the young women, nodded to Gonzo and Cruz as they approached.

  Phillips introduced him and Cruz to the young women.

  “Who’s the roommate?” Gonzo had already zeroed in on the one dressed all in black. The strikingly beautiful young woman had brown skin, dark hair and eyes dramatically lined with black makeup.

  Kingston gestured to the one Gonzo had guessed. “Harley Flores. She’s the one who called 911 when she realized Rachel was dead, not asleep.”

  “Could we have a moment with Harley, please?” Gonzo asked the other girls.

  They hugged Harley as they got up to give the detectives room.

  Gonzo sat on a chair that faced Harley. “Again, I’m Detective Sergeant Gonzales, and this is my partner, Detective Cruz. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

  Harley wiped tears off her face. “Thank you.”

  Gonzo noted that her makeup remained unaffected by the tears. Christina had taught him the pro and con of waterproof mascara. Pro: it didn’t run. Con: it was a bitch to get off. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  “I have no idea. I woke up as usual around seven thirty to go to work and realized Rachel was still in bed, which was very weird. She never sleeps past six. She was a high school swimmer and had practice every morning before school. She said it ruined her for sleeping in.”

  Harley wiped away more tears. “I called over to her, and she didn’t answer, so I went to look closer and saw that… She was… Her lips were blue. I started freaking out. I called 911 and ran out of there.”

  “Did you touch her at all?”

  Harley shook her head. “I was afraid to.”

  That’s good news, Gonzo thought, relieved to know the body was undisturbed.

  “What went on around here last night?” he asked.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. She did homework while I went to dinner with some friends. When I came home around eleven, she was already asleep, which isn’t uncommon. She conks out early, too.” Harley seemed to stop herself when she realized she was speaking of Rachel in the present tense. “Well, she did. I can’t believe she’s gone.” She looked up at them with heartbreak in her eyes. “How is that possible? She’s only twenty.”

  “Do you know of her having any visitors or guests while you were at dinner?”

  “She didn’t mention having plans.”

  “We noticed there was a line down the center of your room,” Cruz said.

  Harley nodded as she swiped at tears. “We got off to a rough start as roommates. I put that line down the middle to make a point. But freaking Rachel… She couldn’t let it be. She had to keep at me until I decided to like her, which took about two days, because you can’t not like her. Pissed me off.”

  Gonzo would’ve been amused by her under any other circumstances.

  “Everyone loved her. She was like the mother hen around here, checking on everyone, making sure we were all right. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  He wasn’t entirely convinced this was a homicide, as the victim was so universally well liked, or so it seemed. “Did she have any health problems that you know of?”

  “No, she was ridiculously fit and tried to swim every day.”

  “Did she swim competitively still?”

  She shook her head. “Only for exercise and because she loved it so much. She tried to talk me into taking up swimming, but I told her to stand down. This girl doesn’t do pools.”

  “Did she have trouble with anyone that you know of?”

  “Not at all. Like I said, people liked her even when they didn’t want to.”

  “Did she have a boyfriend?”

  “There is this one guy. They’ve been kinda on-again, off-again.”

  “His name?”

  “Gordon something? We made fun of his name. One of the other girls said her grandfather’s name was Gordon.”

  “Do you know where we can find him?”

  “He lives in the building next door.” She pointed in the direction. “Over there.”