Fatal Affair Read Online Free PDF Page B

to talk about it. Later, though, okay?”
    Sam swallowed hard at the intense expression on his handsome face. “Okay.”
    He released her hand and opened the car door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
    “Yes,” she said softly to herself when he was gone. “See you then.”

    Frederico Cruz was a junk food addict. However, despite his passion for donuts, his ongoing love affair with the golden arches, and his obsession with soda of all kinds except diet, he managed to maintain a wiry, one-hundred-seventy-pound frame that was usually draped by one of the many trench coats he claimed were necessary to staying in character.
    In some sort of cosmic joke, Sam had drawn the dietary disaster area known as Freddie for a partner. In the midst of the HQ detective pit chaos, Sam watched fascinated and envious as he chased a cream-filled donut with a cola. She swore that spending most of every day with him for the last year had put ten unneeded pounds on her. “Where are we?” she asked when he put down the soda can and wiped his mouth.
    “Still at square one. The neighbors didn’t hear anything or see anyone in the elevator or hallways. I sent a couple of uniforms to pick up the security tape—not an easy task, I might add. You’d think we were planning to send G. Gordon Liddy back in there or something. I had to threaten them with warrants.”
    “What was the hang up?” Sam asked, eyeing his second donut with lust in her heart.
    “Resident privacy, the usual bull. I had to remind them—twice—that a United States senator had been murdered in his apartment and did they really want any more unfavorable publicity than they’re already going to get?”
    “Good job, Freddie. That’s the way to be aggressive.” She was forever after him to get in there and get his hands dirty. In turn, he nagged her about getting a life away from the job.
    “I learned from the best.”
    She made a face at him.
    “We also seized everything from the senator’s home and work offices—computers, files, etc. The lab is going through the computers now. We can hit the files tomorrow.”
    “Good.”
    “What’s your take on the O’Connors?”
    “The parents were devastated. There was nothing fake about it. Same with his sister.”
    “What about the brother?”
    “He seemed shocked, but he says he was with a woman whose name he doesn’t remember.”
    “He’ll have to produce her if he’s going to rely on her for an alibi.”
    “He’s painfully aware of that,” Sam said, smirking at her recollection of Terry O’Connor’s discomfort and Graham’s obvious disapproval.
    “That’s what he gets for sleeping with a stranger. Imagine going up to someone you slept with to ask for her name.”
    Sam’s face heated as memories of her one-night stand with Nick chose that moment to resurface. “Easy, Freddie. Don’t get all proper on me.”
    “It’s just another sign of the moral decline of our country.”
    Groaning at the familiar argument, she said, “Any word from the M.E.?”
    “Not yet. Apparently, they had a backlog to get through.”
    “Who comes before a murdered U.S. senator?”
    He shrugged. “Don’t kill the messenger.”
    “My favorite sport.”
    “Don’t I know it? The guy who found him checked out? Cappuano?”
    “Yeah.” Sam decided right in that moment not to tell Freddie about her history with Nick. Some things were personal, and she didn’t want or need Freddie’s disapproval. She was still dealing with her own disapproval for bringing up their former personal relationship in the midst of a murder investigation. “He was at work all night with other people from the staff, which I’ll confirm tomorrow.”
    “So what’s next?”
    “In the morning, we’ll interview O’Connor’s staff and pay a visit to the senate minority leader,” she said, filling him in on Graham O’Connor’s long-running feud with Stenhouse.
    Freddie rubbed his chiseled cheek. On top of his many other faults, he was GQ