Fatal Invasion

by Marie Force

  His beautiful hazel eyes were even more so when he looked at her with desire and need and love.

  How would she stand to go three long weeks without him to come home to?

  “How long until bedtime?” he asked in the same low tone.

  “Not long at all,” she said. “I’m spent from this day.”

  “Not too spent, I hope.”

  “When am I ever too spent for you?”

  “Never, and that’s what makes you the best wife I ever had.” He patted her ass. “Go eat. You’re going to need a second wind.”

  Desire was an ever-present thing whenever he was close by and often when he wasn’t. She thought of him, and she wanted him. Even if “having him” meant being in the same room, talking, laughing, arguing, debating, parenting or watching TV in perfect silence. Being with him completed her in a way that nothing else and no one else ever could. And when he looked at her in that particular way, with the look that told her he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him, it was all she could do to remember the three children in the room.

  As she ate her salad, she thought of the time, before Scotty had come to live with them, when they’d had sex on the kitchen floor. Those days were long gone with a child in their midst and the place crawling with Secret Service.

  While Sam ate her salad, Scotty kept up a steady stream of chatter with Aubrey.

  Alden hung on Scotty’s every word.

  “Hey, buddy,” Sam said to her son, “maybe you can show Alden one of your driving games before bed.”

  “Sure,” Scotty said. To Alden, he added, “Do you want to play?”

  Alden looked to Aubrey, who gave him a nudge. “Go ahead.”

  With his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder, Scotty guided Alden out of the kitchen.

  “My heart,” Sam said to Nick, watching them go. “He’s the best.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  To Aubrey, she said, “Is Alden always so quiet?”

  “He’s shy. That’s what Mommy says. Is she coming to get us soon?”

  Sam’s heart broke into a million pieces. “She can’t come tonight, but we should know more tomorrow.”

  The little girl was thoughtful as she processed what Sam had said.

  “How would you like to take a bath in my big fancy bathtub? I have all different bath bombs, and you can pick whichever one you like. What do you think?” Sam had never met a girl who didn’t love a bubble bath.

  “That would be fun.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  Sam offered a hand, pleased that someone would enjoy the bath bombs her niece Abby had given her last Christmas. Baths were a luxury she rarely had time for.

  “Clothes,” Sam said quietly to Nick before they left the kitchen. “Will you text Tracy and ask her to bring over something in the morning? Her kids must have something they’ve outgrown that we can use until we have time to get more.”

  “Yep,” he said, getting busy on his phone to text Sam’s older sister.

  In the master bathroom, Sam turned on the water to the tub and got out the basket of bath bombs for Aubrey to consider.

  She sniffed each of them before deciding on a strawberry-scented one.

  Sam unwrapped it and handed it to Aubrey. “You want to put it in?”

  “Okay.”

  She dropped it in the water, her eyes widening with delight when the water turned red.

  Sam tested the temperature and got out a towel.

  “Do you want me to stay and help you, or would you prefer privacy?”

  “I can do it myself,” she said.

  “I’ll be right outside the door. Call me if you need anything.”

  Aubrey bit her lip as she looked up at Sam. “Alden might be scared.”

  “I’ll check on him.”

  “Okay.”

  Sam turned off the water and left Aubrey to take her bath while she went to knock on Scotty’s door to check on the boys. She poked her head in the dark room that was lit only by the glow of the TV screen. Thumb in mouth, Alden was asleep on the pillow next to Scotty’s.

  “He conked out about five minutes after we came up.”

  “I can move him to the bed that Dad made for him and Aubrey.”

  “It’s okay if he stays there. I don’t mind.”

  “She’s going to want to be with him.”

  “They can both sleep here. It’s fine.”

  “You’re very kind, Scott Cappuano.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been where they are. I know how scary it can be to find yourself staying with people you don’t know.”

  Sam went into the room and sat next to him on the bed. “I’m sorry if this brings back memories you’d rather forget.”

  “I don’t want to forget my mom or my grandpa.” He took a deep breath and looked up at her. “Sometimes I can barely remember them, and that bums me out.”

  Sam reached for him, and he allowed her to hug him and play with his hair.

  “I hope nothing ever happens to you guys,” he said. “I don’t know if I could get over that.”

  “Nothing will happen to us. We’re too ornery for that.”

  “You are,” he said with a snort of laughter. “That’s for sure.”

  Sam gave a gentle tug to a tuft of his hair. “Don’t stay up too late. School night.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.”

  “Thanks for your help tonight and for being you, which was just what Alden and Aubrey needed.”

  “No problem.”

  Sam kissed his forehead. “Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  She returned to the master bedroom, where Nick sat on the bed, book in hand. When she started to speak, he held up a hand to stop her.

  “Listen,” he whispered.

  Aubrey was singing—beautifully. Sam didn’t recognize the song, but it had a classical sound to it—and then she realized the child was singing in another language. “Is that...”

  “Italian,” Nick said. “Andrea Bocelli, ‘Time to Say Goodbye.’”

  “How does a five-year-old know Italian?” Sam asked, riveted by what she was hearing.

  The official phone that Nick was required to have with him at all times rang, startling them both. Sam always expected to hear a nuclear bomb was about to end the world when that phone rang.

  He reached for the phone on the bedside table. “Yes?” After listening for a moment, he said, “I’ll send her down as soon as the children are settled.” He ended the call and put the phone back on the table. “Brant is waiting for you.”

  “Wait till he hears the rest of the story.”

  “What is the rest of the story?”

  Because she trusted him with her life, Sam told him what they’d learned from Hill about the children’s father and his business dealings.

  Nick’s eyes got very big. “Brant’s going to shit himself when you tell him that.”

  “Do I have to tell him?”

  “Yes, you do, because as he said, his job is to protect us, and he can’t protect us unless he has all the information he needs.”

  “He’s going to make me take them to a hotel. He’ll say it’s not your call.”

  “I’ll make it clear to him that this is nonnegotiable. The kids are staying. They are far safer here than they would be in a hotel.”

  “That’s true.” Sam went to the bathroom door and knocked. “Are you ready to get out yet?”

  “I’m already out,” Aubrey said.

  “I’ll be right in with a T-shirt you can sleep in. Hold on a sec.” Sam went across the hall to the bedroom she used as a closet. In one of the boxes in the far back corner she withdrew one of her prized Bon Jovi T-shirts that was far too small for her now but had once been a favorite. When she returned to the bedroom and sho
wed Nick the shirt he laughed.

  “Aubrey has no idea how lucky she is to get to wear that shirt.”

  “I know! It should be in a museum.”

  Nick rolled his eyes.

  Sam knocked on the door, and when Aubrey told her to come in, Sam stepped into the bathroom. The child looked tiny and vulnerable wrapped up in the big puffy towel Sam had given her. She held up the shirt for Aubrey to see. “Bon Jovi is one of my favorite bands.”

  “My daddy loves Bon Jovi.”

  “So do I.” Sam helped her into the shirt before scooping up the clothes she had removed to put them in the washer. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Jon Bon Jovi sang at my wedding.”

  “You know him?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve actually met him twice. He also sang at Nick’s inauguration when he became vice president.”

  “That’s so cool. My daddy wants to meet him.”

  Once again, Sam’s heart broke for what would never be, and she wondered how they would ever find the strength to tell these precious babies that their parents were gone forever.

  “How did you learn to sing in Italian?”

  “Mommy loves Andrea Bocelli. We listen to him all the time.”

  “You have a very pretty voice.”

  “Thank you. Mommy says so too.”

  “Do you speak Italian?”

  “No,” she said, “I just sing what I hear.”

  “It’s very lovely.” She ran a brush through Aubrey’s damp hair and set her up with a toothbrush and toothpaste. “Alden fell sleep in Scotty’s room. Do you want to sleep with them or in the bed that Nick made for you?”

  “With Alden. He’ll be scared if he wakes up and I’m not there.”

  Sam showed her the way to Scotty’s room and helped her into bed next to Alden. Sam turned on a Spiderman night-light that Scotty hadn’t used since he first lived with them. “Nick and I are right across the hall. If you need anything during the night, come get me. Okay?”

  Aubrey nodded but her big eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure Mommy can’t come pick us up?” she whispered.

  “Yes, honey, I’m sure.”

  “Does she know where we are? She’ll be really scared if she doesn’t know where we are.”

  Sam blinked back tears as she looked down at the adorable little face. “She knows where you are.” Sam had to believe that was true. She leaned over to kiss Aubrey’s forehead. “Try to get some sleep.”

  She stayed until Aubrey curled up to her brother, put her arm around him and closed her eyes. And to think she still had to call Elijah and tell him that his father and stepmother were most likely dead. She’d had more than enough of this day, and it wasn’t over yet.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NICK WENT WITH Sam to talk to Brant, who was waiting for them in the office the Secret Service had commandeered downstairs.

  “I understand you wanted to see me,” Sam said to Brant, who looked more stressed and tense than usual.

  “I need to know more about the kids you brought home,” he said. “Are they involved with one of your cases?”

  “Yes.”

  “How so?”

  “May I?” Sam gestured to the sofa that technically belonged to her, but since it was now located in their domain she asked for permission.

  Brant nodded and leaned against a desk while Sam and Nick sat. Sam told him what Hill had shared earlier.

  “They can’t be here,” Brant said bluntly when Sam finished talking.

  “Well, they are here,” Sam said. “They’re traumatized, and I’m not disrupting them again tonight.”

  “I understand they’re traumatized, and I empathize with their situation, but there’s no way they can be here when their parents have been murdered and the case is unresolved.”

  “As stated,” Nick said, “they’re already here, so we need to put the emphasis on how we’re going to best protect them rather than on how they came to be here.”

  “Mr. Vice President, with all due respect—”

  Sam stood. “I have other work to finish before I can call it a day. I’ll let you two hash out the details of how we’re going to keep Alden and Aubrey safe tonight.” She squeezed Nick’s shoulder and left the room to go upstairs to call Shelby and then Elijah Beauclair.

  Shelby answered on the first ring. “Hi, Sam.”

  “Sorry to call so late. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No problem. We were up. What’s going on?”

  “It seems that I’ve made your job triply difficult by bringing home two kids in need of emergency shelter.” Sam went on to update their assistant on what had transpired that day.

  “Avery told me a little about the case. Those poor babies.”

  “I was counting on your soft heart, because I’m going to need your help with this. I have no idea how long they’ll be with us.”

  “Whatever I can do. I’m happy to help.”

  “Thank you, Shelby,” Sam said with a deep sigh of relief. “I should’ve checked with you first—”

  “Don’t be silly. You knew I’d be fine with helping. That’s what I’m here for. What can I do?”

  “They need some clothing. I asked Tracy to bring over some hand-me-downs from Abby and Ethan, but they’ll need more.”

  “I’m on it. I’ll figure out their sizes tomorrow and send one of the women from the shop to the store, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course. You have our card. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

  “You know me—I’m an expert at spending your money.”

  Sam laughed. “We couldn’t do what we do without you backing us up at home. I probably don’t say it often enough, but we’re so appreciative of you.”

  “Oh stop, Sam. I get to bring my son to work where I get to love on your son, who’s the best kid ever. I love everything about working for you guys. I should be thanking you. I’ll come in early tomorrow and touch base with you before you leave for work. Noah is up with the chickens anyway, so it’s no problem.”

  “That’d be great. Then I can introduce you to the kids and make sure they’re comfortable before I leave. My team is coming to the house in the morning, so we’ll be here for a while.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Hey, is Avery there by any chance?”

  “He’s right here. Hang on.”

  “Hey, Sam,” Avery said. “How’s it going with the kids?”

  “Not bad. Aubrey is adjusting, but Alden has yet to say a word to any of us.”

  “I really feel for them.”

  “I know. Me too. About their brother, I haven’t had a chance to call him, and it’s getting late. I wondered if you might be willing to do that for me after all?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do it,” he said, sighing.

  “I hate to ask you—”

  “It’s fine. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Let me know if he has anything to say that might be of interest to me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re meeting at my place at zero eight hundred if you want to join us.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “See you then—and thanks again.”

  “No problem.”

  * * *

  AVERY ENDED THE CALL and handed the phone back to Shelby, dreading the call Sam had asked him to make to Elijah Beauclair, away at college and oblivious to the bomb about to go off in his life.

  “What’s wrong?” Shelby asked when he got out of bed and pulled on the flannel pajama pants he’d recently discarded.

  Avery unplugged his cell phone from the bedside charger. “I need to call Jameson Beauclair’s older son, a student at Princeton, to tell him about the fire and the possibility that his father and stepmother ar
e dead. We were hoping for positive IDs before we notified him, but that hasn’t happened yet, and we can’t wait any longer.”

  “Ugh,” Shelby said. “I don’t know how you guys can stand to make those calls.”

  “We can’t,” Avery said. “But someone has to do it.” He leaned over the bed to kiss her. “I’ll be back.”

  Propped up on one elbow, she gave him a warm smile. “I’ll be right here, and we can pick up where we left off when work intruded.”

  Things between them were better than ever, and the crisis that had nearly derailed them was now a distant memory, he thought, as he went downstairs to his office to make the dreaded call. Couples therapy had helped him put his relationship with Shelby back on track. The work he’d done on his own with the therapist had gotten him over some things from his past that had come back to haunt his present.

  Avery turned on lights in his office and fired up the laptop where he’d made notes earlier that included Elijah Beauclair’s phone number. He dialed the number, which rang several times before a male voice answered, sounding rushed or maybe out of breath.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Elijah Beauclair?”

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  Avery closed his eyes and leaned his head on his upturned hand. “This is Special Agent Avery Hill with the Federal Bureau of Investigation in Washington, DC.”

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news. There was a fire at your father’s home last night.”

  “Oh no!”

  “He and your stepmother were most likely killed.”

  He gasped. “Oh my God. You don’t know for sure?”

  “We’re awaiting positive identification from the medical examiner.”

  “And the kids?”

  “Were found alive.”

  He released a deep breath. “I knew this would happen. My dad knew too. He said I might get a call like this one day when that son of a bitch Piedmont found them. He knew it was only a matter of time. I can’t believe he’s gone. And Cleo...” His deep sigh said it all. “What’s being done with the kids?”

  “They’re with foster parents tonight. Tomorrow, the plan is to hopefully find family members who can take them.”