by Marie Force
“True. So, um, I’m taking the little brother and sister home with me tonight.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, they needed a place, and we’re licensed foster parents from when we first had Scotty.”
“Wow. It’s good of you to do that, Sam.”
“With the Secret Service making a fortress out of our house, I figured they’d be safer with me than anywhere else we could put them tonight.”
“That’s certainly true, although the Secret Service should be briefed on the background with the parents.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Sam said with a sigh, imagining what Nick’s lead agent, John Brantley Junior, would have to say about her bringing the children of people who’d been tortured and burned in their home into her house. “With your permission, I’ll take care of briefing them on what you told us.”
“Permission granted.”
“What does Elijah know about the father and his business dealings?”
“He knows everything. He had to change his name while he was in high school, so there was no hiding it from him.”
“Good to know. I was thinking after your briefing earlier that if I were going to be on the run from someone who wanted me dead, I’m not sure I’d buy a mansion in Chevy Chase to ‘hide’ out in.”
“From what I’m told, they were advised to consider living more modestly to draw less attention to themselves. However, he was still a billionaire, and apparently they have their needs.”
“Did those needs get him and his wife killed?”
“That’s what we have to find out.”
“I’ll be back on that tomorrow. For now, I need to get these kids home and settled.”
“I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Talk to you then.” Sam closed the phone and returned to the exam room where Erica was continuing to entertain the children, currently with a game of tic-tac-toe that Aubrey was winning. Alden watched but didn’t participate.
Mrs. Wallace returned a few minutes later, beaming. “I received the email from the vice president, and everything is in order.”
Sam wondered if everyone the woman knew had already heard about her email from the vice president, which had her questioning the children’s safety. “It’s vitally important that you not tell anyone where these children are,” Sam told her.
“I understand. I would never breathe a word of it.”
“Thank you.” To Erica, Sam said, “I need five minutes to check on Gonzo’s son, who was brought in earlier. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Take your time. I’ll be here.”
Sam told the kids she’d be back in a minute and went to check on Alex, who was asleep in Christina’s arms. “How is he?”
“They’ve got him on an IV and want us to stay until the fever breaks. They’re trying to figure out what caused it.”
“No Gonzo?”
“No,” she said tightly.
Sam made a call to Dispatch. “I asked Patrol to look for Sergeant Gonzales. Any luck locating him?”
“Nothing yet, Lieutenant. We’re continuing to look.”
“Keep me posted.” To Christina she said, “They’re still looking.”
“Do me a favor. When you find him, keep him far, far away from me.”
“Christina—”
“No, Sam. I’m done. I’ll do what I can to get him the help he clearly needs, but I am done with this nonsense. I put my life on hold for him and for Alex, and he can’t even get himself to the E.R. when his son is sick? I am done.”
Sam’s heart sank at the finality of the words as she wondered if Gonzo would survive losing Christina on top of losing Arnold. “I understand,” she said, sighing. “I’ll check in with you in the morning to see how Alex is. If you need anything overnight, please call me.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Sam left them and thought about Gonzo as she followed the corridor back to where she’d left Erica and the Beauclair children. He was making such a mess of his life, and he didn’t seem to care. That was so unlike who he’d been before they lost Arnold. In the last nine months, he’d become someone she barely recognized.
No way could she leave him in charge of the squad for three weeks. He wasn’t up to the task in his current condition. Which meant Nick would have to go alone. The thought of three weeks without Nick made her want to curl up in a ball and hide, and yes, that made her feel like the worst kind of simpering, lovesick female. But whatever. She loved him. She relied on him. She needed him, and three weeks without him would make her crazy.
Returning to the room where Erica waited with the children, Sam said, “We’re ready to go now.” She reached out to them and after a brief hesitation, Aubrey took her hand and reached back for her brother.
“Come on, Alden,” Aubrey said.
Sam helped them down from the bed. To Erica, Sam said, “Give me some backup for the ride home, will you?” She was concerned about whomever had torched the parents watching what became of the kids. Sam gave the DNA swabs to Erica. “And then get these to Lindsey.”
“You got it.”
With Erica right behind them, Sam led the children through the emergency department waiting room to the exit, feeling the eyes of everyone they passed on her. Thankfully, no one got the big idea to stop her.
She loaded the kids into the back seat of her car and helped them with seat belts since there’d been no time to get booster seats. When she got home, she would call Shelby to let her know what was going on. Sam had no doubt that Shelby would be willing to do whatever she could for the kids. She had the softest heart of anyone Sam knew, and she loved kids.
The children were quiet on the ride home, which gave Sam time to think—and ponder why she’d felt the need to step up for two kids she didn’t know. Anyone would be moved by their plight, but she hadn’t hesitated to offer to take them, and that had her wondering about the deeper meaning of her gesture.
The issue of babies and children was fraught with peril for her, challenged as she was by persistent fertility problems. A few months ago, she’d decided to try fertility treatment again, but hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment—probably because she knew what it entailed and the thought of it gave her the worst anxiety she’d ever had. Making the appointment was on her to-do list, something that nagged at her because it needed to be done, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger.
Needles and tests and poking and prodding and hormones. The last time she’d undergone the treatment, when she was still married to Peter, had been one of the worst things she’d ever been through. Even the thought of having a baby with Nick couldn’t get her over the hurdle that stood between her and the opportunity treatment offered.
A recent pregnancy “scare,” if you could call it that, had resurrected a lot of emotions tied to carrying and delivering a child of her own, and she was still dealing with that disappointment.
Sam’s phone rang, giving her a welcome reprieve from the direction her thoughts had taken. She took the call from Freddie. “Hey, what’s up?”
“That’s what I wanted to know. What’d I miss after I punched out today?”
“I’ll tell you all about it if you tell me how Elin is.”
“She was in a lot of pain from the wound, but she took a pain pill that knocked her out.”
“And what about you? Have your nerves settled yet?”
“I’m having a big glass of the bourbon her uncle gave us for Christmas last year.”
“You don’t drink bourbon.” It was a big deal to get a few beers into him.
“I do tonight.”
“Easy, killer. Bourbon is for big boys, not novices.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me about the case.”
Sam glanced in the rearview mirror and saw big eyes looking back at her. “H
ill had some info he shared with us. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” She couldn’t say more about that with the kids in the car. “Aubrey and Alden Beauclair are coming home with me tonight. We’re on our way home from GW now.”
“Oh God, they were found, and you’re taking them home?”
“Nick and I are licensed foster parents.”
“Um, that’s not all you are.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious, but I figured having the place crawling with Secret Service wouldn’t be a bad thing in this case.”
“And the Secret Service is on board with that?”
“I never got around to asking them.”
Freddie laughed. “Something tells me your buddy Brant will have a few things to say about sheltering them after—”
“Don’t say it.” She didn’t want the kids to overhear anything that could further traumatize them. “And I don’t care what the Secret Service says. It’s my house too, and I can bring home guests if I want to.”
Freddie’s low chuckle echoed through the phone. “Wish I could be a fly on the wall for that convo. I’ll look forward to hearing about it in the morning. I should be able to work a regular day.”
“Let’s start at my house. I’m not sure what they will need, and I want to make sure they’re settled before I leave.”
“Got it. I’ll see you at zero seven hundred?”
She glanced at the clock, which edged closer to ten o’clock. “Make it eight.”
“Will do.”
“And if you’re not too drunk to spell, send a text to the others, letting them know to meet us at eight at my place.”
“I’m not drunk, and I’ll send the text.”
“Tell Elin we’re thinking of her when she wakes up.”
“I will. Thanks for the support today. I appreciate it.”
“That was some crazy sh—” she caught herself before she swore in front of the kids “—stuff.”
“Yeah, I’ll be having nightmares about it for years to come.”
“Put down the bourbon and try to get some sleep. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow, and Gonzo is... I don’t know what’s up with him.” She paused before she said, “Do me a favor. Get me a copy of his MVA report from today and shoot a copy to my email.”
“Will do. What’re you thinking?”
“I don’t know yet, and I shouldn’t talk to you about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because he outranks you, and I’m the boss and supposed to be professional.”
“He’s our friend, Sam. If something’s going on with him, I want to help.”
“Which is the only reason I said anything. Christina had Alex in the E.R. with a high fever. When she called Gonzo, he said he was coming but never showed.”
“What?” Freddie asked on a long exhale.
“I’ve got Patrol looking for him. They can’t find him.”
“Sam—”
“I can’t do anything more tonight. Get me that report, and we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
“Yeah, all right. See you in the morning.”
Sam closed the phone and held it tightly in her fist, wishing Gonzo would call her or Christina or someone. Where the hell was he?
CHAPTER TEN
“MR. VICE PRESIDENT.” Brant followed Nick up the stairs to the room he’d set up for the children. “I need more information on who these children are and why Mrs. Cappuano is bringing them here rather than allowing social services to handle the matter.”
“Mrs. Cappuano, also known as Lieutenant Holland, doesn’t need a reason to bring guests to her own home.”
“I understand the sensitive nature of her job—”
“Do you, Brant? Do you really?”
The agent’s posture lost some of its rigidity. “She’s very good at what she does. No one would ever say otherwise, but she can’t bring people here to stay without clearing them through us. By now, you both know how this works. I’m just doing my job, sir, and my job is to keep you and your family safe. I can’t do that if I don’t have all the information I need.”
“I understand what you’re saying, and as soon as Sam gets home, she can brief you on what you need to know.”
“In the future, that needs to be done before she brings home overnight guests.”
“I’ll mention that to her,” Nick said, laughing to himself as he imagined how that conversation might go. Sam marched to the beat of her own drummer, which was one of many things he loved about her. Trying to control her was like trying to harness nuclear energy.
“Do you find this situation amusing, sir?” Brant asked, visibly annoyed.
Nick liked that the agent was comfortable enough with him to ask the somewhat cheeky question. “It’s more the thought of trying to ‘manage’ Sam that amuses me than the situation itself.”
Brant’s lips moved a fraction of an inch in an upward direction, which was as far as he would go toward admitting he found that funny too.
“I know we’re not always the easiest family to deal with,” Nick said.
“Understatement,” Brant muttered.
“But,” Nick continued, pretending he hadn’t heard the comment, “we do appreciate what you and the others do for us and the challenges presented by Sam’s work.” Who ever said he couldn’t speak like a politician when necessary?
Standing with hands on hips, starched dress shirt taut and tie still snugly in place after a twelve-hour day, Brant seemed to make an effort not to roll his eyes. Or so it seemed to Nick as he added pillows to the bed and straightened the comforter.
Downstairs he heard the front door open and Sam’s voice as she conferred with the agent working the door. What did it say about him that the sound of her voice after a long day apart made him feel elated? That he had a bad case for his wife, and he couldn’t wait to see her.
“There they are,” Nick said.
Brant stepped aside to allow Nick to go first out of the room and down the stairs to greet Sam and the two little blond children who hovered next to her. With one quick look, Nick could see they were adorable and traumatized, which was why Sam had offered them shelter. You’d have to be dead or unfeeling not to be moved by them.
“Remember when I told you my husband is the vice president?”
The little girl nodded, but the boy had no reaction.
“This is my husband, Nick. Nick, this is Aubrey and Alden.”
Nick squatted to their level. “Hi, guys. It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad you could come over tonight. This is Brant and that’s Nate,” he said, gesturing to the agent at the door.
“I’ve seen you on TV,” Aubrey said shyly. “Mommy says you’re cute.”
As his face heated with embarrassment, Nick looked up at Sam and found her biting her lip to keep from laughing. She gave him an I told you so look, and he knew what she was thinking. She was forever embarrassing him by talking about his so-called hotness. Whatever.
“Are you guys hungry?” Nick asked. “We have some pizza. Do you like pizza?”
“We love pizza,” Aubrey said, clinging to her brother’s hand.
His silence worried Nick. “Right this way.” He gestured for them to follow him to the kitchen, where he set them up with plates of the cheese pizza he’d ordered in anticipation of their arrival, figuring it would be easier than spaghetti at that hour. Most kids loved pizza, and he’d taken a chance they would too. “What would you like to drink? We have milk, apple juice, water and lemonade.”
“Lemonade, please,” Aubrey said. “Alden likes chocolate milk.”
“We can do that. Our son, Scotty, is a big fan of chocolate milk.”
“Where is he?” Aubrey asked.
“He’s upstairs. I’ll tell him to come say hello.” Nick put the drinks in front of them and then sent a quick text to Scotty to let
him know they had guests. He was in his room finishing his homework after dinner and a shower.
With the kids settled and eating their pizza, Nick went to Sam, put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Hello, dear. How was your day?”
She looked up at him. “If I forget to tell you, you’re the best.”
“Happy to help, but Brant would like a word with you.”
“Why did I know you were going to say that?”
“He’s a little unsettled about tonight’s developments.”
“I wondered why he was still here long after his shift ended.”
“He’s waiting for you.”
“He’s not going to like what I have to say.”
“I suspected as much.”
“He won’t make me...” She tipped her head toward the kids.
“I won’t let him. Don’t worry.”
“Are you allowed to defy your detail?”
“Let me worry about them. You have enough on your plate.”
Scotty came into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of the kids eating pizza at the kitchen table. He glanced at his parents.
“Scotty, this is Aubrey and Alden. They’re spending the night with us.” He’d told his son in the text that the two had lost their parents in a fire.
“Hey, guys,” Scotty said, approaching the table. “I’m Scotty. Mind if I join you?”
Aubrey gave him an assessing look while Alden seemed to shrink into himself even more.
While Scotty sat with them, helping himself to a piece of pizza, Nick wrapped his arm around Sam because he could and because he sensed she needed the comfort even more than usual tonight.
* * *
WITH THE KIDS OCCUPIED, Sam cozied up to Nick, letting him shoulder some of the burden that weighed her down. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat.”
“I got you that Asian chicken salad you like.”
“God, I love you.” She kissed his cheek and gazed up at him. “Best husband ever.”
“As you would say, I do what I can for the people.”
Keeping her voice down so she wouldn’t be overheard, she said, “And you shall be richly rewarded at bedtime.”
