A bead of sweat slid down her back. All she could think about was Reese being killed before she could ask him the most important question. Her mouth felt pasty and dry so she reached for her soda and took a long swig. Of course her stomach reacted with annoying predictability. Taking a couple of deep, calming breaths, she said, “Did you shoot my father?”

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“My father, Metro Police Deputy Chief Skip Holland.” She watched him in the mirror, waiting for any indication that he recognized the name and got none. “He was shot on G Street two years ago.”

Baffled, Reese said, “I didn’t shoot no cop on G Street.”

Sam gritted her teeth against the urge to scream. “There were newspaper clippings and reports in your house.”

“That stuff in the closet? It ain’t mine. Belongs to the guy who lived there before me. He was supposed to come get it, but he never did.”

“You lived there for more than a year and never got rid of the crap the previous people left behind?”

He shrugged. “We were busy.”

For whatever reason, Sam believed him and her heart sank with disappointment. Another dead end. “Who lived there before you?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? I ain’t the freaking landlord.”

“Why’d you shoot my partner?”

“Who’s your partner?”

Keep him talking, Sam. Get as much as you can out of him before this goes bad. “Yesterday? In your house?”

“He was a cop?”

Gratified to see Reese’s complexion go pale at that news, she said, “Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to shoot no cop. He snuck up on me. I thought he was trying to rob the place. Man’s got a right to be in his own house, to protect his property.”

Thrilled to have at least gotten his confession on Freddie’s shooting, she released a long deep breath, satisfied with the partial victory. “Not after he kills his family in that house he doesn’t.”

The gun pressed hard into her neck. “Shut the fuck up and drive.”

Nick arrived at his office to find the staff huddled around the television in the conference room. “What’s up?”

“That guy Reese who killed his family and shot the Lieutenant’s partner?” Trevor said.

His heart slowing to a crawl, Nick nodded. “What about him?”

Trevor swallowed hard. “He’s taken a Metro cop hostage. They’re showing it live. A helicopter is following them on Mass Ave.”

Nick moved closer for a better look. At the sight of the dark blue sedan, he gasped. And then he told himself the department had hundreds of those cars assigned to their detectives and high-ranking officers. It could be anyone. “They haven’t said who it is?”

Trevor shook his head.