Freddie opened the door to his rattletrap Mustang and got in. He sat there for a long time processing what he’d been told. Tension gripped him as he thought about Sam, who’d been so much more than a partner and mentor. She was like a ball-busting older sister who he’d come to love over the last year of working closely with her. And Nick. Lately, he’d begun to feel like a friend, too. Even though he had a lofty job now, there was nothing lofty about him. Tabor was right when he said Sam didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did.

Under normal circumstances, he’d go directly to Sam, tell her what he’d heard, and offer his help. But since she was in a hospital bed recovering from a serious head injury, that wasn’t an option. What to do? He thought about going to Skip Holland, but due to the nature of the situation, he dismissed that idea.

Nick. He had to tell Nick, but remembering the crowd in the lobby, he didn’t want to go back in there.

Freddie dug his cell phone out of his coat pocket and called Gonzo.

“Yeah. Gonzales.”

“Gonzo. Wake up.”

“I just got home,” Gonzo mumbled. “Got to be back in two hours. This’d better be good.”

“Is Christina with you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Can I talk to her?”

“What the fuck, Cruz?”

“It’s important.”

After a long pause, Gonzo said, “Hang on.”

Freddie could hear Gonzo waking her up.

“This is Christina.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you.” He swallowed hard. “This is Detective Cruz. I’m Lieutenant Holland’s partner.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I was wondering if you could give me the senator’s cell phone number. It’s urgent that I reach him.”

“He’s in the hospital. You know that. I saw you there earlier.”

“I just left him with Sam, but the hospital is overrun with media, and it’s very important that I speak to him tonight. In fact, after I talk to him, he’s probably going to want to talk to you.”

“What’s going on, Detective?”

“May I please have the number?”

“Fine,” she said, rattling it off.

“Thank you.” Freddie ended the call before she could grill him some more. His stomach grinding with nerves, he dialed Nick’s number and pressed send. It rang four times before going to voicemail. Since he knew Nick was injured and moving slowly, he called back.

He answered on the third ring. “Hmmm, Nick Cappuano.”

“Senator. It’s Freddie Cruz. Are you awake?”

“No.”

“Senator. Wake up. I really need to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Freddie. I told you that.”

“Senator! Listen to me. Come down to the parking lot outside the Emergency Room, but don’t go through the lobby. It’s full of media.”