Free Fatal Affair by Marie Force Page B

were bundled up…”
    “What about it?”
    “Is it possible Christina Billings had a coat she ditched after the killing?”
    Intrigued, Sam puzzled that over. “That would explain why the suit wasn’t ruined.”
    “Exactly. Might be time to get a warrant to search her car.”
    “Jesus,” Sam said. “Why didn’t I think of this?”
    “You would have. I think you’ve got a timing problem where she’s concerned, but it seems to me like you’ve got every base covered, Sergeant.”
    “I’m trying.”
    They were interrupted by a knock on the door.
    “Come in,” the chief called.
    The door opened and Freddie stepped into the room, looking nervous and uncertain.
    “Detective Cruz.”
    “Hello, sir,” Freddie stammered. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the officers going through the documents taken from the senator’s apartment have uncovered a life insurance policy that I think you need to see, Sergeant Holland.” He handed it to her.
    Sam scanned the document, her eyes widening at the two-million-dollar amount. An involuntary gasp escaped when she saw the beneficiary’s name: Nicholas Cappuano.

    Twenty minutes later, Sam stormed past Nick’s startled staff straight into his office and slammed the door behind her.
    He never looked up from what he was doing when he said, “Back so soon, Sergeant?”
    “You son of a bitch!”
    He finally glanced at her, but there was steel in his normally amiable eyes. “Care to explain yourself?”
    “How about you explain yourself.” She slapped the insurance policy down in front of him.
    Without breaking the intense gaze, he reached for the document. “What’s this?”
    “You tell me.”
    He finally looked away from her. “It’s an insurance policy.”
    “To me it looks like a two-million-dollar insurance policy,” Sam clarified. “Flip to the last page.”
    He did as she asked. “ I’m the beneficiary?” he asked with what appeared to be genuine shock.
    “As if you didn’t know.”
    “I didn’t! I had no idea he’d done this!” An odd expression settled on his face. “So…that’s what he meant.” His voice faded to a whisper.
    She wanted to demand he say more but waited for him to collect his thoughts.
    “I once told John, back when I first met him and figured out who his father was, that I couldn’t imagine in my wildest dreams ever being a millionaire. He said, ‘You never know.’” Nick ran his hand reverently over the pages of the policy. “Then about a month ago, the subject came up again because I made a joke about how rich I’m getting running his office. He said I still had plenty of time to be a millionaire and that what I was doing—what we’re all doing—was more important than money.” Nick looked over at Sam. “That was the first time it seemed to me that he really embraced the significance of the office he held. Then he said I could be a millionaire sooner than I thought and walked away.”
    “You didn’t ask him what he meant by that?”
    He shook his head. “It seemed like a throwaway line at the time, but now it takes on more significance.”
    “Do you think he knew he was going to die soon?”
    “No, but he had a sense that he was going to die young. He’d get into these maudlin discussions when we’d been drinking. We called them his philosophical moods.”
    “Did he have these moods often?”
    Nick considered that. “More often lately, now that you mention it. Christina asked me last week if I thought he might be depressed.”
    “Did you?”
    “Distracted might be a better word than depressed. He definitely had something on his mind.”
    “And you have no idea what?”
    “I tried to talk to him about it a couple of times, but he brushed it off. Said he was focused on the bill and getting it passed. I chalked it up to stress.”
    “You really didn’t know about the insurance?”
    “I swear to God. Give me a polygraph.”
    Sam studied him for a long moment. “That won’t be necessary. Congratulations,