Rather than run with the softball she tossed him, Freddie only nodded. His mind was elsewhere, but Sam didn’t blame him for that. She’d be freaking out if Nick had gotten hurt when she couldn’t get to him.

They knocked on the door several times, but no one answered.

“Great,” Freddie said. “We came all the way up here for nothing.”

“Let’s check with the neighbors to see if they know where he is.”

Sam took the unit on the left side of Liam’s while Freddie took the right. A young woman with a baby on her hip came to the door. Sam showed her badge. “Wondering if you can tell us where your neighbor might be—Liam Hughes?”

“Who knows? He keeps strange hours. He’s up all night with music thumping and then he sleeps all day. We had to move the baby’s room to the other side of the house because his music was waking her up.”

“So you’ve had words with him?”

“As few as possible. We’re not exactly what you’d call friends. He’s got people—women mostly—in and out of there at all times of the day and night. My husband thinks he’s a pimp. We love to speculate on what goes on in there.”

“Would you mind if I wrote down your name and number in case I have follow-up questions?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Sam met Freddie back out on the street, where he had a similar report from the neighbor on the other side—lots of parties, lots of women and loud music. “The guy sounds like a tool.” She glanced at her partner. “I know you want to get back to the District, but I’d like to hang out for a short time to see if he comes back.”

“What’s a short time?”

“An hour max?”

Freddie grimaced but then nodded. “Okay.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He glanced at his phone as they returned to the car. “Hey, what do you know? We’ve got a warrant out for Hughes. Nonpayment of child support.”

“Excellent. Let’s hope little daddy comes home so we can arrest his ass for that and then ask him some questions about his friend Lori.”

“I need some food.” Freddie gestured to a sub shop at the other end of the block. “You care if I run down there really quick?”

She pulled a ten from her wallet. “Get me a veggie something or other and a water.”

“Got it. Be right back.” He jogged off down the street while Sam got comfortable in the driver’s seat of her car.

She fired off a text to Nick. Well here I am spending New Year’s Day on a stakeout in Baltimore. Didn’t see my year starting this way.

He wrote right back. What’re you doing way up there?

Freddie had a hankering for Italian—ha! Following a lead, what else? Did you deal with my “situation” yet?

Making some calls. Don’t worry about it. I got you covered.

Thank you. Sorry to be a lousy second lady.

As long as you continue to put out on a regular basis, you’re the best second lady ever.

Ha-ha, sex fiend. What if the Secret Service is monitoring your texts?

They’re only monitoring my official phone. This one is personal. Did you see the shit on the news about Gonzo being a suspect?

WHAT?!?

It was all over CBC. You didn’t know?

NO!!! OMG! Gotta go deal with this. TTYL

Sorry, babe. Hang in there. Love you.

Love you too.

Sam placed a call to HQ, asked for the chief and was told he was in a meeting. “Helen, it’s Lieutenant Holland. I need to speak to him right now. It’s urgent.”

“Please hold.”

Sam was forced to listen to the ridiculous light rock that served as the hold music. Nothing said badass cop shop quite like a little light rock. They needed Bon Jovi to liven things up. She’d bring that up at the next department meeting. As she waited for the chief, a man came walking down the street from the far corner. His eyes darted nervously around as he headed for the door she was watching.

She threw down the phone and got out of the car, crossing the street so she would meet him at the stairs that led to his townhouse. She flashed her badge. “Mr. Hughes? Lieutenant Holland, Metro PD, Washington, D.C. I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

At the sight of her badge, he turned and bolted back the way he’d come.

Swearing under her breath, Sam took off after him. Didn’t these idiots know that nothing said, “I’m guilty of something,” quite like running from cops? She dug in and caught up to him two blocks from where they’d started. Grabbing the hood of his sweatshirt, she pulled hard and brought him down onto the sidewalk. She went down with him, landing hard on her right knee.

She planted her left knee in his back and had him cuffed within seconds.

“What the fuck? I didn’t do anything! You can’t just tackle me like that and arrest me.”

“Oh no? Looks like I just did. And if you didn’t do anything, why’d you run?”

Freddie came around the corner a minute later, looking slightly undone by the sight of her on the ground with their guy. “I leave you for ten minutes, and you manage to find trouble.”

“Trouble finds me. Detective Cruz, meet Liam Hughes.”

“I’d say pleased to meet you,” Freddie said, “but you don’t seem too pleased.”

“I’m going to sue your asses off for this,” Hughes said, straining against the cuffs.

“Then I ought to tell you that you have the right to remain silent,” Sam said. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” After she’d recited the Miranda warning, Freddie dragged Hughes up off the sidewalk and escorted him to the car. “And PS, dirtbag, you can’t sue our asses off when you’re wanted for failure to pay child support.”

“I don’t owe that bitch nothing. That kid ain’t mine.”

“Tell it to the judge.”

Sam limped along behind him, her knee throbbing from the direct hit to the sidewalk. Every muscle in her body was on fire from the sprint, proof that the gym might actually be a resolution worth making before she lost her edge. At thirty-five, the old gray mare wasn’t what she used to be.

After Freddie had tossed Hughes into the back of the car, he turned to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, smacked my knee and wore myself out, but otherwise, I’m fine.”

“Want me to drive?”

She tossed him the keys. “I won’t say no to that.” On the passenger seat, she found the bag of food he’d left there before coming after her. “Glad to see you protected the food.”

“Of course I did. God knows when you’ll give me another chance to eat.”

“So when faced with the dilemma of going after your partner who was possibly in over her head, you saw to the sandwiches first? Good to know where I rate.”

“This can’t possibly be news to you after all this time.”

“I want a lawyer,” Hughes said from the backseat.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sam said as she took a huge bite of her sandwich, wishing it was full of meatballs rather than vegetables. “We should check in with Baltimore so they don’t get pissy with us for making a grab in their city.”

“I’ll do it.” Somehow he managed to eat, drive and make the call to the Baltimore PD’s Homicide Division to let them know an investigation had led to an arrest in their city.

Professional courtesy and all that happy horseshit. Sam got sick and tired of playing nicey-nice with all the fragile egos involved in police work. God forbid they should step foot in someone else’s turf without letting them know. Then she remembered the call she’d been on when she saw Hughes coming and the reason for it.

“They’re going to give us a heads-up when the warrant comes through. They’re trying to track down a judge. Holiday,” he said over a mouthful of sandwich.

“We got trouble,” she told him. “CBC is reporting Gonzo is our chief suspect in the murder of his baby mama.”

“What? What the hell?”

“Fuck is the word you’re looking for there. Who knows? Apparently our leaker didn’t just go to Darren, and now he’ll be pissed with me because someone else scooped him.” So many egos, so little time. She placed another call to the chief.