wouldn’t tell me that either.”
They all looked to the chief for answers he didn’t have. “Do we know the whereabouts of the vice president?”
“I poked around online,” Gonzo said, “and the most recent mention I could find was a formal dinner he attended yesterday in Iran, which was covered by a White House pool reporter. There’s been no mention of him since.”
“I suppose no news is good news,” Farnsworth said. “If something had happened to him, we would’ve heard about it by now.”
“I suppose so,” Freddie said, “but clearly something is going on with him that has the Secret Service in full-on freak-out mode.”
“Let’s do a little digging to see if we can find anything online and get Archie’s team involved,” Farnsworth said, referring to Lieutenant Archelotta’s IT squad.
“I’ll take care of that, sir,” Gonzo said.
“What’re we thinking about the floater in the river? Is it Ruby Denton?”
“We’re waiting for Dr. McNamara to make a positive ID,” Gonzo said. “We’ll know more in the next few hours.”
“Let’s get out there and work that case,” Farnsworth said. “CSU is doing a grid search now, but let’s treat it like a homicide until we know it isn’t.”
“Yes, sir,” Gonzo said for all of them.
They left the chief’s office and returned to the detectives’ pit, passing other officers who gave them quizzical looks. Apparently the word was out about Lieutenant Holland being snatched from a crime scene by Secret Service agents.
“I thought she wasn’t under their protection,” Beckett said, keeping his voice down.
“She isn’t,” Gonzo said, “but from what the agent in charge told me, they received a threat against the vice president and his family, so Nick authorized them to bring everyone in.”
“Wow,” Beckett said. “What kind of threat would lead to that?”
“Could be anything,” Freddie said. “No sense speculating at this point. I’m sure it’ll be all over the news before too long.”
“Nothing has been released yet,” Gonzo said. “I checked.” His phone rang, and he checked the caller ID. “It’s Chris. I’ve got to take this and tell her our kid is under Secret Service protection.”
“Good luck with that,” Freddie said.
Gonzo walked away from them to take the call.
“This is seriously effed up,” Beckett said.
“Yeah, it is, but she’d want us to focus on working the floater case, so that’s what we’re going to do,” Freddie said. Though he was still rattled and furious about the scene at the river, Sam would want them to do their jobs and not worry about her. She’d say she could take care of herself, but after what happened in that basement with Stahl and Marissa Springer, he hoped that wherever she was, it wasn’t sparking memories of that grim episode.
Gonzo’s raised voice caught Freddie’s attention. “I don’t know how long, babe,” Gonzo said. “All I know is what the agent in charge told me.” After a pause, he added, “No, they wouldn’t release him. They’re under orders to keep everyone in the safe location for the time being. He’ll be fine, Chris—of course he will. He’s with Angela, Sam and Tracy. They won’t let anything happen to him.” Gonzo sighed deeply. “Of course I don’t like it, but what am I supposed to do about it? I have no idea where the safe location is, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to get in there.” He paused. “Yes, honey, of course I will. Try not to worry. He’s with people who love him. Okay. I love you too.” After he ended the call, he sat at his desk, head in his hands.
“She’s not happy, huh?” Freddie asked.
“That’s putting it mildly. She’s hysterical.”
“Do you need to go home?”
“Nah, I can’t leave with the LT God knows where and a floater to contend with.”
“I could hold down the fort if you need to go check on her.”
“I’ll call her back in a little while to make sure she’s okay. In the meantime, since we’re both without partners for the rest of our shift, let’s go see what Lindsey has found out about our body.”
Freddie took note of the casual way Gonzo said he was without a partner. Since Detective Arnold was killed over the winter, Gonzo had been working on his own or with Freddie and Sam. The department had yet to fill the vacancy in their squad that Arnold’s death had created, which was fine with Freddie. He couldn’t conceive of anyone else sitting in Arnold’s cubicle and didn’t want to think about the day, probably in the not-too-distant future, when they’d have to accept a new person into their group.
Freddie didn’t like change, especially the kind of change that resulted from one of his closest colleagues being murdered.
“You okay?” Gonzo asked as they walked together to the morgue at the other end of the headquarters building.
“Yeah. I was just thinking about Arnold, actually.” He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake by mentioning Gonzo’s late partner. Only in the last month or two had Gonzo seemed more like his old self again, after watching his partner be gunned down right next to him and slipping deep into grief in the aftermath.
“What about him?”
“Just about who they might get to fill his spot.”
“No idea.”
“I hope it doesn’t happen soon. I don’t want to see someone else in his cube.”
“Gonna happen eventually.”
“I hope eventually is in the far-off future.”
Gonzo had nothing to say to that, but then, he didn’t say much about Arnold these days. Despite his silence on the matter, Freddie knew Gonzo’s late partner was never far from his mind.
They entered the morgue, where an antiseptic scent greeted them.
“This is gonna be bad,” Gonzo said. “You ready for that?”
Freddie’s stomach turned. This was one of the worst parts of a difficult job. “As ready as I ever am.”
“What’ve you got, Doc?” Gonzo asked as they entered the sterile room where Lindsey and her deputy, Byron Tomlinson, were examining the body—or what was left of it.
Freddie choked back a wave of nausea when he got his first look at the bloated lump of flesh that had once been a human being. The only thing about the body that still looked human was a knotted, slimy clump of long hair.
“Female, approximately eighteen to twenty-five,” Lindsey replied.
“How long was she in the water?”
“I’m
