“I LIKE HIM,” Freddie said to Sam when they were in her office. “He fits right in.”
“I’m glad you think so. I’m impressed with his work so far and with the way he seems to understand what he’s navigating coming in here to take Arnold’s place.”
“Not everyone could do that successfully, but I think he’s going to work out well.”
“Agreed. Now I just have to find someone to take Tyrone’s place.”
“Any contenders?”
Sam gestured to a bulging file on her desk. “I’m supposed to go through all these applications and narrow it down to three. Who has the time for that nonsense?”
He rolled his eyes. “You want me to do it for you?”
“Would you?”
“Yes, I’ll do it,” he said with a long-suffering sigh as he took the file from her.
“Get me someone good. No drama queens or ass pains.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said sarcastically.
“It might be nice to have another woman around here.”
“We already have four.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I was merely pointing out the existence of four female Homicide detectives.”
“Thank you for doing that math for me. You know it’s not my thing.” As they talked, she scrolled through her email and clicked on a message from the lab with a report on the first car used in the shootings. “Hot damn! The lab got some hairs and ruled out the owners of the car. They ran the DNA through the databases, but didn’t get any hits.”
“So that means our guys are first-time offenders.”
“Or they’re repeat offenders who’ve never been required to give DNA before. I’m gonna guess that they didn’t start with gunning down innocent people for no good reason. I’ll ask the lab to cross match the DNA from the hairs to Angel’s rape kit. We’re closing in on these SOBs.” She typed the request, asked the lab to give it highest priority and pressed Send.
“Perhaps the death in the family will keep our perps off the streets tonight,” Freddie said.
“We can only hope for that, and sketches that’ll get us some faces for these guys.” As she said the words, a dizzy spell hit, making the room spin. She grasped the desk, hoping it would stop the sickening movement inside her head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dizzy.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
Sam couldn’t recall. Suddenly, she was exhausted, starving and craving some time with her husband and son. “I’d like to go home for a little while. Give me a lift?”
“Sure, let’s go.”
* * *
AVERY GOT HOME early for once, walking through the door just after six-thirty. From upstairs, he could hear Shelby talking to the baby as she got him ready for bed. He dropped his work bag inside the door and headed up the stairs, eager to see Noah before he went to bed.
“Hey,” he said when he walked into the room.
“Look, Noah,” Shelby said. “There’s Daddy.”
He loved when she called him Daddy. It made his heart ache with a love so big it couldn’t be contained. “Hey, buddy.” Avery leaned over the changing table for a better look at the baby.
Noah squealed at the sight of him, his arms and legs thrashing about.
Shelby laughed. “I think he wants Daddy to pick him up.”
“Daddy would love to.” Avery carefully lifted the squirming bundle from the changing table and snuggled him into his embrace, breathing in the clean baby scent that clung to his freshly washed hair. “Did you guys have a good day?”
“We had a great day,” Shelby said as she cleaned up the room. “After work, we went for a long walk, we stopped at the park and we checked in on the ladies at the studio.” She referred to the bridal salon that she still owned. She’d turned the management of it over to others when she accepted the position with Nick and Sam.
Avery moved about the spacious room, rubbing the baby’s back and helping to settle him. Shelby called him a baby whisperer because he was so good at getting Noah to sleep. That was another title he loved. Hell, he loved everything about being part of this little boy’s life, and he’d do just about anything to stay in his life for good.
Working together, they got the baby settled in his crib, covered him with a light blanket and turned on the Noah’s Ark mobile that played nursery rhymes. Noah loved to watch the animals parade around over his head.
They tiptoed out of the nursery, which adjoined their room, leaving the door ajar so they could hear him. Shelby also brought the portable half of the baby monitor that had a screen so she could watch him sleep, which she often did. She said it was much more interesting than anything on TV.
Avery went into their room and pulled off his tie. He changed into a T-shirt and athletic shorts, his usual after-work uniform.
“Are you hungry?” Shelby asked.
Normally, he was starving by now, but his stomach was agitated from thinking about the conversation they needed to have. Food was the last thing on his mind. He sat on the bed, elbows propped on his legs and dropped his head, hoping to relieve some of the tension that had gathered in his neck as he tried to find the words he needed.
“Are you all right?”
“No. I’m not all right.” That wasn’t how he’d imagined broaching the subject, but it was the truth.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen at work?”
“Work is fine.” He forced himself to look up at her. “Will you sit with me for a minute? I need to talk to you.”
“Sure,” she said, her brows furrowing in confusion.
He found her adorable, even when confused. Taking hold of her hand, he brought it to his lips, buying himself another minute to figure out what he should say.
“Are you leaving us?” she whispered.
The question stunned him. “What? No, I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”
“You’re scaring me with the way you’re acting. Something is wrong.”
“Yes, something is wrong, and I can’t be the only one who’s noticed.”
She looked at him blankly, which made him crazy. How could she not know what he meant?
“Between us, Shelby.”
“Oh.”
Avery forced himself to press on, to put it out there, to give voice to the worries that’d been keeping him awake at night. “You know I’ve been seeing Rosemary twice a week.”
She nodded.
“Today we talked about my relationship with you—or lack thereof. She said from the way I described it that we’re living together but estranged. I have to agree with her description.”
“Things have been busy. With Noah... And everything.”
“I know. Having a baby has been a big adjustment for both of us. You more than me, of course, but we can’t blame what’s happened between us on him. No, that’s all my fault because of what happened before he was born. I take full responsibility for the breakdown between us.”
“It’s not just your fault. It’s mine too.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m so caught up in Noah that I haven’t had much time for you.”
“It’s more than that, Shelby.” He sighed. “It’s like our romantic relationship ended the day I screwed up, and since then we’ve been platonic roommates who share a baby.”
She looked down at the floor, her shoulders sagging.
“I can’t live like that forever, and you shouldn’t have to either.”
“What’re you saying? You want to break up? If you do, I hope you know that I’d never keep you from Noah. I know how much you love him.” The words came out in a rush, as if she’d practiced them.
“I don’t want to break up. I want to go back to what we had before I screwed it all up. I want you. I want Noah. I want our family. But not like this, Shelby. Not with this awful abyss between us. I can’t handle it anymore. It’s killing me to sleep next to you every night and feel like I don’t have a right to touch you.” Dropping her hand, he put his arm around her and drew her in close to him. “I want you back. I want us back.”
To his great horror and dismay, she broke down into sobs.
“Shelby, honey... Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. If I could do my whole life over, I’d go right back to that day and fix it so you’d never have to be so hurt. I swear to God, on Noah’s life, the only woman I love is you. The only woman I want is you.”
“I’m trying so hard to get past it, Avery, because I love you so much. I want to believe you when you say I’m the only one...”
He wrapped both arms around her. “You are, sweetheart. I swear you are.”
“I don’t know how to get past it.”
“Rosemary suggested you come in with me to figure that out. Would you be willing?”
“Yes, of course. If she thinks she can help us, I want to do it.”
“Oh, good,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t want to?”
“I wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you were over me.”
She drew back from him and looked up, her face tearstained, her eyes big. “I’m not over you. I want to put this behind us so we can get on with our lives. I’ve... I’ve missed you, Avery.”
Bending his head, he captured her lips in a sweet, soft kiss, the first one in longer than he could remember. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. We’re going to put this back on track. I swear.”
She burrowed into his embrace, seeming as desperate to be close to him as he was to be close to her. As long as she clung to him, he had hope that they could get past their troubles.
* * *
NICK WAS ON his way out of the White House to head home when he encountered his longtime friend, Derek Kavanaugh, President Nelson’s deputy chief of staff.
“Could I have a word please, Mr. Vice President?”
The formality rankled him, even though he knew it was necessary within these four walls. “Of course.”
Nick followed Derek to a conference room and shut the door behind them while Brant stood watch outside. “What’s up?”
“We heard you were called to testify, and the president is wondering what you’re going to say.”
“If I testify, I’ll answer the questions I’m asked truthfully.”
“What do you mean if?”
“My inclination is to refuse their kind invitation to tell my side of the story.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be president, not like this anyway. If I go up to the Hill and answer their questions, he won’t be able to recover.”
“He swears to God that he had nothing to do with Christopher’s plot. He and Mrs. Nelson are horrified by what their son did.”
“So he’s said. Several times now.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve known him a long time, worked closely with him for years, and I’ve never seen any inkling of the sort of evil that would have to be present in a person to threaten the lives of innocent children. Not to mention the rest of it.”
“You mean torturing my wife’s ex-husband or hiring my deadbeat mother to smear me?”
“Yeah, that too. It’s not how he’s wired, Nick.”
“I’m not the one you need to convince. Congress is running this show. Not me.”
“All eyes are on you, and you have to know that. I heard Halliwell called you about a VP.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“From Halliwell.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. I’m not talking about a potential VP until I have to, and we’re a long way from that.”
“I don’t know if we are.”
“What does that mean?” Nick asked, immediately on guard.
“Nelson is talking more about what’s best for the country.”
“And?”
“He’s considering all his options, up to and including resigning.”
“He can’t do that.”
“Well, actually he can, and I can assure you he’ll put the country ahead of himself. The latest polls show the American people have lost confidence in his leadership since his son’s arrest. He’s taking those numbers to heart.”
A sense of panic, the kind he only felt when Sam was in danger, seized Nick. “What happened to his plan to fight to the finish?”
“We might be staring down the finish line,” Derek said grimly.
Nick took a closer look at his longtime friend and noticed how exhausted he seemed. The controversy had taken a toll on a lot of people. “I don’t want him to resign.”
“It might not be up to you.”
“It was my family that was threatened, and if I don’t want him to resign, that should count for something.”
“I’m sure it would, if you were to say so publicly, but you’ve been stubbornly silent for weeks. No one knows where you stand.”
And here they’d arrived at the point of this conversation. “Are you asking me to make a statement?”
“I’m suggesting a statement from both of you might not be a bad idea, unless, of course, you’re eager to be president. Soon.”
Nick’s gaze locked with Derek’s. Neither of them blinked for the longest time.
Finally, Nick looked away. “I’ll consult with my team.”
Derek nodded and moved toward the door.
“Derek.”
He turned back.
“If he is forced to resign, I hope I can count on your support.”
“You always have my support, Nick. You know that.” He walked out, leaving Nick alone to consider the massive implications of what he’d been told. Before he did anything, he needed to talk to Sam. The damage done by Christopher Nelson had a much bigger impact on her, since her ex-husband had been murdered, her nieces and nephews threatened.
Despite the president’s assurances about his innocence, nagging doubts remained. If he was involved, Nick hated the idea of handing him a pass. He ought to be forced to resign if he’d been involved in the commission of murder and other felonies, which is why Nick hesitated to support the president who’d picked him to be his vice president hoping to boost his own popularity. Since then, he’d treated Nick like a lowly servant rather than a partner in governing. Technically, he owed the guy nothing.
On the way home, he continued to consider his options. When the motorcade pulled onto Ninth Street, he saw Sam getting out of Freddie’s old Mustang and was surprised to see her home so early. He didn’t wait for Brant to open the door. Rather, he jumped out and stopped short at the sight of the massive bruise on her swollen face.
“What the hell happened?”
“Hello, dear. How was your day?”
“Samantha...”
“So, there was this cop, you see, who wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and our investigation into the shootings uncovered his extramarital affair. As the father of five children with another on the way, he wasn’t too happy with me, seeing as how he’s now in trouble at home and work. One thing led to another, and here we are.”
His eyes flashing with fury, Nick said, “He hit you?”
“He did.”
Nick took her by the arm and marched her up the ramp, past the stunned agent at the door, who did a double take at the sight of her face.
“Is everything all right, sir?” he asked.
“Yes,” Nick said through gritted teeth. Just another day in my life with Samantha Holland Cappuano, he wanted to say. He directed her into the kitchen and sat her in a chair.
That she was so unusually agreeable to being manhandled alarmed him and had him wondering if she was more hurt than she’d let on. In the freezer, he found an ice pack that he held to her face. “Tell me he’s in trouble.”
“Uh-huh. They suspended him.”
“And charged him, I hope?”
“I asked them not to.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I wasn’t charged for punching Ramsey. If I insist on charges against Offenbach, everyone will scream favoritism.”
“Ramsey deserved it. You did not.”
“And you’re not even slightly biased.”
“No, I’m not. It’s not your fault this guy wasn’t where he was supposed to be or that he was off having an affair, and it was definitely Ramsey’s fault that he said you got what you deserved from Stahl.”
“I’m batting a thousand this week with three officers suspended because of me.”
“Ramsey, Offenbach and who else?”
“Conklin.”
He pulled the ice pack from her face. “What happened with him?”
Sam explained how Conklin had hidden the fact that a retired officer was missing for two weeks.
“Why would he do that?”
“He was concerned that Wallack had fallen off the wagon after years of sobriety and was trying to protect him.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, so as you can see, I’m really racking up the points with my colleagues.”
Nick sat in the chair next to her and gently applied the ice pack to her face. “Each of them did this to themselves, Sam. Conklin hid the fact that the retired guy was missing. The other was with his mistress when he was supposed to be somewhere else, and Ramsey lost his shit when he heard you weren’t going to be indicted. You didn’t do any of those things. They did.”
“I know,” she said, shoulders sagging with dejection that alarmed him.
“Do you? Do you really know that they all got in trouble because of stuff they did?”
“Yeah, I guess. I just hate how trouble seems to find me in that department when I’m only trying to do my job.”
“You’re up against several tough obstacles. One, the old boys’ network resents a woman as successful as you are at your job. Two, your father’s legacy in the department makes for a tough slog for you. And three, you do the right thing all the time, even when it’s not the easy thing to do. That’s more than they can say.”
Sam smiled at him.
“What?” he asked, annoyed for some reason.
“Nothing. I just love you.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “That’s good because I just love you too.”
“Thanks for sticking up for me.”
“I’ll always stick up for you.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to come home. I needed a little dose of you after a rough day.”
“Is your rough day over?”
“For now. We’re closing in on these guys, building a case. We’ve got DNA from the car and the attack on Angel, we’ve got a sketch artist working with her, and she heard one of the attackers get a call that his mother had died, so we’re taking her to wakes hoping to find them.”
“That’s a genius idea.”
“It’s my genius idea.”
“Of course it is.” After a moment of silence, he said, “How’s your face feeling?”
“Numb.”
Nick removed the ice pack, wincing at the huge bruise that extended from her mouth to her eye, which was swelling shut.
“We don’t have any official White House shit coming up do we? Because I don’t think Tracy’s stage makeup could cover this mess.”
Nick laughed, even though there was nothing funny about seeing her injured—again. “No, nothing this week, but I had an interesting conversation with Derek this afternoon.” He filled her in on what his friend had said.
“So they’re thinking if we publicly back Nelson then maybe he can hold on to his presidency?”
“That’s the general idea.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I have mixed feelings. Part of me doesn’t believe for a second that he didn’t know, but a bigger part of me doesn’t want to be president. Not now anyway—and not like this.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Derek said it would have to come from both of us, seeing as how your ex-husband was killed and your family members threatened too. What do you think?”
“Before we decide anything, I’d want to meet with the Nelsons. I want to see their eyes when they tell us they knew nothing about it. I’ll know if they’re lying.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll ask Terry to set it up, and we’ll go from there.”
“Will you still have to testify?”
“I’ve let them know I’m uninterested in testifying at this time.”
“What did they say to that?”
“Nothing yet. Unless they subpoena me to appear, I won’t say a word to anyone. Not until after we see the whites of the Nelsons’ eyes and my detective tells me whether we can trust them when they say they didn’t know.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Are you hungry?”
“You know me. I could always eat. My ass is living proof of that.”
“I love your ass. Don’t you dare speak poorly of my favorite ass.” He got up to see what Shelby had left for them. In the fridge, he found a covered dish with instructions to heat at 375 for thirty minutes. Lifting the foil, his mouth watered at the sight of enchiladas.
“What is it?” Sam asked.
“Enchiladas.”
Her moan had him thinking of things other than food. “That’ll go straight to my ass.”
“More for me to love.” He put the dish in the oven and turned it on. “Thirty minutes. Drink?”
“Yes, please.”
Nick opened a bottle of white wine and poured them both a glass, bringing them to the table where he rejoined her. “Does it hurt?”
“Not too bad. We probably ought to let our White House people know that the press is going to be buzzing about why the second lady’s face is bruised and swollen. I don’t want anyone saying you did it.”
Nick blanched at the thought of anyone saying such a thing. “I hate living in a world where we have to worry about that.”
“As do I, but it is the world we live in.” Sam withdrew her phone and called Lilia Van Nostrand, her chief of staff at the White House.
“Mrs. Cappuano,” Lilia said.
“Sam.” They had this “argument” almost every time they spoke.
“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
“If you’re not busy, I wondered if you might stop by the house tonight to discuss a few things.”
“Of course. What time is good for you?”
“Any time after seven-thirty.”
“I’ll be there. I look forward to seeing you.”
“Me too.” Slapping her phone closed, Sam laughed, and then winced. “She looks forward to seeing me. Wait until she gets a load of the mess on my face.”
“She’s learned to expect just about anything where you’re concerned.”
Sam’s eyes lit up the way they did when she was excited about something. “I’m having the most awesome idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I really think we should ask Harry over to check my face,” she said with a calculating look. “I mean, it could be another concussion.”
Nick eyed her skeptically. “What’re you up to, Samantha?”
“I haven’t heard a word from Lilia or Harry about whether they ever got together. I need information.”
“You’re shameless, babe. And PS, what happened to not wanting your world to collide with mine?” She’d been less than thrilled at first when Lindsey got together with Terry and Gonzo with Christina, but she’d gotten over their worlds colliding eventually. For the most part anyway.
“Please. Lilia and Harry are both from your world.”
Nick laughed at the disdainful way she said that.
“Where’s my kid anyway?” she asked.
“He must be upstairs since his motorcade is out there,” Nick said. “What do you suppose the odds are that he’s doing his homework?”
“Slim to none. If he’s a smart man, he’s napping while he can.”
He scowled at her. “I’ll go see what he’s up to. Try not to get injured or maimed or anything else while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try my best to stay out of trouble.”
“That’ll be the day.” Nick went upstairs to knock on the door to Scotty’s room, nodding to Darcy, the agent on duty in the hallway. When there was no answer, he stuck his head in to find his son sound asleep. He had to laugh. Sam had called that. Since they had a little time before dinner, he left him to sleep and went back downstairs. “You called it. He’s napping.”
“That’s my boy.”
“He’ll never go to college at this rate.”
“Yes, he will. He’s going to be a rock star just like his dad.”
“If his mother doesn’t ruin him first.”
“Despite my bluster, I do have two degrees, I’ll have you know. How many do you have, nerd boy?” She raised the brow on the side of her face that wasn’t swollen.
“One less than you.” Smiling, Nick took a sip from his wineglass. “I have a hard time picturing you in graduate school.”
“It wasn’t pretty, but I got the piece of paper, which is more than you can say, I might add.”
“Ouch. Low blow, babe. I am the vice president of the United States, you know.”
“Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”
He laughed. “Please don’t be. It’s a huge drag.”
Sam’s phone rang, and she took the call, mouthing the word Malone to him. At least it wasn’t Dispatch. “Hey, what’s up?” She listened for a minute, her focus intent on whatever the captain was telling her. “Let’s get it right to the lab. I want confirmation that these are the same guys who had the first car and assaulted Angel.” She listened some more. “I’m fine. It’s gonna be a hell of a bruise, though.”
“Already is,” Nick mumbled.
“How are the sketch artists making out with Angel?” She sighed. “Maybe she’ll feel more up to it tomorrow.”
After listening, she sat up straighter, and her breathing changed. “Like what? Why didn’t the wife tell us that?” After a pause, she said, “I like where this is heading. Keep me posted and call me if anything else pops.” She slapped the phone closed. “They found the red SUV abandoned downtown, and it turns out that Wallack has a stepson from his first marriage who’s been in a lot of trouble over the years. The detectives working the missing persons case are trying to track him down.”
“Those are good developments.”
“Yeah, it’s moving in the right direction. I just hope no one else has to die before we nail these bastards.”