Even after almost a year together, she still hated to leave him. But she had a job to do, and so did he, so she got out of the car and waved as the SUV sped off toward the Capitol.

Chapter Five.

Sam headed for the main doors at HQ, through the courtyard that would be mobbed with reporters once the word got out about Willie.

She was holding a mock news conference in her head, thinking about how she might approach the press without igniting another riot, when she smacked into a hard wall of white chest that sported a gold badge. Shit.

"In my office, Lieutenant. Right now."

Sam let out a huff of aggravation as she followed the chief to his suite, which was located behind the dispatch area.

The chief's receptionist gave Sam a sympathetic smile when she passed the desk, which only made Sam more anxious about the reaming she was in for.

He stood at the door, stone-faced as she walked past him.

The slam of the door behind her made her startle.

"What part of 'don't step foot outside this building without me knowing about it' did you not understand, Lieutenant?"

"I looked for you. I couldn't find you."

"Since I was here all night, I'd say you didn't look very hard."

"I didn't want to bother you with something I could easily handle."

"Which is how you ended up in a Dumpster with a dead body."

"Yes. It's Willie Vasquez. The body, that is."

His face went blank for a second before he recovered his mojo. "You're kidding me."

"Wish I was."

"Ah, God." All at once he looked exhausted and every bit his sixty-plus years. "We just got things under control, and now this."

"My first stop will be his home, followed by the ballpark to speak to the team leadership."

"I don't want you on this one, Sam. Assign it to one of your people."

"Sir, with all due respect-"

"I said assign it to someone else."

"And what am I supposed to do? Sit in the office and twiddle my thumbs?"

"There's plenty you can do without being on the street."

"You know that's not true. There's no way I can run an investigation of this magnitude without being out there doing what I do."

He went around his desk and sat down, seeming as if the weight of the world rested on his formidable shoulders.

"You know I can take care of myself, Uncle Joe," she said this softly, using her old name for him for the first time since she'd been under his command.

"Something's always happening to you."

"And yet here I am, still providing a daily pain in your ass."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. You know that."

Their rare foray into sentiment was no doubt due to the long night they'd both put in, but Sam wasn't above using it to her advantage. "I also know you care about me, and I appreciate that. But you've got to let me do my job. I'm the most qualified detective to handle a case like this. You know that as well as I do."

Watching him as he weighed the decision, she noticed he'd aged since she'd last looked closely. When had that happened? The observation left her strangely unsettled. Men like her dad and Uncle Joe were supposed to stay forever young and live for as long as she needed them, which was always.

"I don't think I've ever told you that Marti and I weren't able to have kids of our own," he said, further startling her. "We had you and your sisters, our nieces and nephews... You all were our kids. I think we've done a good job, you and me, of navigating the personal as we deal with the professional. But if you think it's ever easy for me to send you out into harm's way, you don't know me at all, Sam. Someone threatened one of my officers, but they also threatened one of my kids-one of my favorite kids. Don't forget that."

She stared at him, astounded and moved and uncertain of what she should say, which didn't happen very often. "I... I won't forget. I won't ever forget."

"See that you don't." He combed his fingers through wiry gray hair in a gesture filled with exhaustion and resignation. "Run Vasquez, report directly to me, watch your back and don't take any foolish chances, you got me?"

"Yes, sir."

Because of what he'd said, because he'd been her Uncle Joe a lot longer than he'd been her chief, because she loved him, she went around the desk, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "I love you too."

As she walked toward the door, he said, "I never said I loved you." His gruff tone was more in keeping with what she'd come to expect from him.

"You didn't have to." She smiled all the way back to the pit.

Ready to do battle on Willie's behalf, Sam strolled into the pit to find it empty except for Cruz, who was sprawled out in his office chair, sound asleep. Was there something wrong with her that she took perverse pleasure in booting the chair and sending him flying into the wall of his cubicle? The look on his face when he came to and realized she'd caught him asleep in the pit was priceless.

"Up and at 'em, Sleeping Beauty. We've got work to do."

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Where is everyone?"

"Home sleeping if they're smart."

"Aren't you the lucky one to be teamed up with the LT?"

"The luck never ends. Don't you need sleep like the rest of us mere mortals?"

"I'll have lots of time to sleep when I'm dead. In the meantime, let's hit the morgue."

"If I'm going to be expected to work twenty-four hours straight, I need food. Real food. Not sprouts and weeds and that crap you consider food."

He needed a hit of grease to restore his equilibrium. Since she needed him performing at top capacity, she decided to indulge him. "I'll feed you after we hit the morgue."

"That ought to do wonders for my appetite."

In the morgue, they found Lindsey working on Willie's autopsy, assisted by her deputy, Dr. Byron Tomlinson.

"Give me something, give me anything," Sam said as she strolled into the examination room with Cruz in tow. He took one glance at the Y-shaped cut in Willie's chest and looked away.

"So far all I can tell you is we're looking at a single stab wound to the chest that severed his aorta," Lindsey said.

"Look at the angle." Byron pointed to the wound. "Judging by the angle of entry, my guess is the perp is a lefty."

"Could they have come at him from behind?" Sam asked.

"Not likely," Lindsey said. "I'm thinking it was a seven-to-nine-inch blade. They wouldn't have been able to get the angle needed to reach the aorta from behind. I'm leaning toward a front-facing attack, a one-shot deal that took him out very quickly."

"And it would've made a big mess," Byron added. "The aorta blowing would've been like a geyser when the knife was pulled from his chest."

"Let's hope CSU gets us a murder weapon." Sam reached for her phone to place a call to the patrol lieutenant, then cursed under her breath when she got his voice mail.

"That would help," Lindsey agreed. "We're running toxicology and other labs now. We'll let you know if we get any hits."

"Thanks, Doc. We're on the street, so hit my cell."

"I thought you were grounded," Lindsey said.

"Not anymore."

Chuckling and shaking her head, Lindsey gave her a thumbs-up. "I don't know how you do it, Holland."

"Charm, Doc. It's all charm."

Cruz snorted loudly as he followed her from the morgue, earning him a glare. "Something wrong with your nose?"

"Nothing a little sleep wouldn't fix."

"Don't act like you'd sleep if I sent you home." He and his girlfriend Elin spent half their lives screwing like bunnies, or so it seemed as he showed up sleepy and dopey-looking to every crime scene, no matter what time of day or night.

"I'd sleep." He gave her the slow, lazy grin that drove the girls crazy-other girls, of course. Not her. "After."

"Ewww. Spare me the details and drive me to Georgetown."

"What's in Georgetown?"

"Willie's condo."

"You promised there'd be food."

"And there will be. Soon. We have to notify the family, and I can't do that on a full stomach."

"Right. Me either."

He understood. There was nothing either of them hated more than having to tell people their loved ones had been murdered.

"What's the address?" he asked as he drove her car out of the parking lot.

Sam consulted her notebook where she'd jotted down the details from the license in Willie's wallet. "3032 K Street, Northwest. What did you do with Willie's wallet?"

"Inventoried and photocopied everything and locked the wallet with the cash in the evidence locker."

"Good. Get Gonzo on the phone."

"Anything else you want me to do while I'm driving you around, your highness?"

"That'll do for now, but thanks for asking."

He grunted out a laugh and had Gonzo on speaker half a minute later.

"Speak to me," Sam said. "What've you got?"

"You gotta stop calling me on Cruz's phone. You're freaking me out."

Despite the horrible errand they were headed to do, Sam flashed a big smile in Freddie's direction.

"You make her day when you say that stuff," Cruz told his friend.

"I can only imagine."

"Where are you right now?" she asked.

"Almost to HQ."

"Ask Malone to figure out who owns the cameras in the area behind Air and Space and adjacent locations. I'm assuming they belong to the Smithsonian, not us, so we need to get warrants. I want as much film as we can get from the ballpark too. Especially the players' parking lot and anything you can get from the Potomac Avenue area."

"Got it. Will do."

"Gimme what you've got on Vasquez."

"Pulling over so I can refer to the notes." Less than a minute later, he said, "Born in Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic on February 10, 1985. Parents are Carlos and Belinda Vasquez. Willie was a standout baseball player from the time he was a child and was drafted right out of high school by the San Diego Padres. He bounced around several National League teams before being picked up by the Feds at the trade deadline during their inaugural season in 2010. Since joining the Feds he's come into his own, hitting .325 in 2010 and .327 in 2011. This season has been his best so far with 42 home runs, 102 runs batted in and 162 hits. He was a two-time All Star and by all accounts most likely a future Hall of Famer."

Sam took notes as Gonzo rattled off Willie's accomplishments on the field.

"Married for five years to Carmen Pena Vasquez. Two kids-Miguel, age four, and Jose, age two."