by Marie Force
“Looks like someone is feeling better,” Sam said as she hugged her niece.
“Much better, and going home tomorrow.”
“That’s great news. I’m so glad you’ll be home for Thanksgiving.”
“Me too. It’s my favorite holiday.”
“Where’re your mom and dad?”
“They went home for a bit to shower and change and see Abby and Ethan.”
“Come sit with me,” Sam said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the bed, where they sat side by side while Sam filled her in on the resolution of the case.
“So Billy is dead too?” Brooke asked in a small voice.
“I’m afraid so.”
“That’s really sad for his parents after they lost Hugo.”
“It’s very sad indeed. Billy had every advantage—a family that loved him, the resources to go to college and a life filled with promise. His poor choices led to today’s outcome. You realize that, right?”
Brooke nodded. “And I get what you’re saying.”
“You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, and you’ve got a lot of work to do to come to terms with what took place in that basement. But at the end of it all, you’re going to be okay. You were very, very lucky to get out of there alive, and I hope you’ll make good use of your second chance.”
“I will, Sam. I promise I’ll make better choices in the future. I was wondering, though... Would it be possible for me to speak to Hoda at some point? I know my mom doesn’t want me hanging around with her anymore, but I’d like to thank her for what she did for me.”
“I’m sure we can arrange something once you’re home and settled, but of course it’s up to your parents.”
“Is she in trouble with you guys?”
“She’ll probably face charges for firing at us, but she helped us to hone in on Billy, so the U.S. attorney will probably file lesser charges because of that. It’s not really up to me.”
“What about her friend Nico? What’s happening with him?”
“He’s facing a misdemeanor gun charge, and he should be sent home today.”
“And Brody?”
“We discovered he was the fourth guy with you, but his participation was somewhat limited.”
“How do you mean?”
Sam explained what the DNA had indicated.
Brooke made a disgusted face and shuddered with revulsion. “How could he do that to me? I’ve known him forever.”
“I don’t know, honey. You have to figure the drugs and booze were making them do things they might not ordinarily do.”
“I guess. What will happen to him?”
“I hope he pleads guilty for what he did. Even if he pleads, he’s looking at lengthy jail time for videotaping the assault and not offering assistance to you, not to mention his own contribution...”
Brooke seemed to be taking it all in, and Sam was glad she was asking questions that had clearly been on her mind. “Thanks for finding out what happened to me and the other kids.”
“I’m glad we were able to get you the answers you need, but there’s one thing I want you to do for me.”
“What?”
“I want you to be nice to your mom. You don’t always have to agree with her, but please be nice. You have absolutely no idea how much she’s done for you.”
“I do know—”
“You can’t possibly know, sweetheart. You were too young to be aware of what it was like for her to bring you into this world without your birth father in the picture. It was a very difficult, lonely time for her, and everything she did, she did for you because she loved you before you were even born. Mike came along and fell in love with you as much as he did with your mom. He’s given you everything he had to give and then some. He gave you his name, and he’s been a dad to you in every sense of the word. Please, Brooke... Please. Be nice to them. Be respectful of the sacrifices they’ve both made to ensure you had everything you needed.”
Brooke wiped away tears as she nodded. “I’ll try harder to get along with them.” She glanced at Sam. “Do I have to go back to the school in Virginia?”
“That’s a question for your parents.”
“I think I’d like to. I bet no one there knows what happened.”
“Nothing has to be decided today. Focus on getting better for now.”
“Thanks for asking your friend Jeannie to come talk to me. It helped.”
“I’m glad. Jeannie is a survivor, and so are you.” Sam hugged her again, tucked her back into bed and left her with a kiss to the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for all you did to figure out what happened to Todd and the other kids.”
“I wish I could say it was my pleasure, but...” Sam shrugged. “Love you, honey. Get some sleep.”
“Love you too.”
Nick, who’d remained by the door during Sam’s visit with Brooke, held the door for her as they left the room. “Well done, babe.”
“Let’s hope she got the message.”
“I think she gets it.”
He kept his arm around her in the elevator and all the way to the parking lot, where they decided to leave her car and pick it up the next day. When he held the passenger door to his car for her, Sam turned to him and slid her arms up his chest to curl them around his neck.
“I have to go in tomorrow to meet with the families to tell them how their kids died and what they were doing when it happened. After I deal with that happy task and a shit ton of paperwork on this whole thing, how do you feel about half a vacation?”
“With you, my love,” he said, sealing his sweet words with an even sweeter kiss, “I’ll take whatever I can get.”
Epilogue
Sam was officially sick of hospitals. In particular, she was sick of the George Washington University Hospital, where she’d spent far too much of her time lately. With Brooke now home and Gonzo getting stronger every day, Sam was ready to be done with the place. But that was not to be.
Her dad had just gone into surgery for the removal of the bullet that had left him a quadriplegic almost three years ago. At the time of his shooting, doctors had told them it was far too risky to attempt to remove the bullet. In the last few months, however, the bullet had begun to move. The doctors now said the bullet had to come out before it did even more damage. So here she was, back at the hospital where she felt like she lived lately, waiting on yet another surgery.
Because there was nothing to do but wait, Nick had gone to work at her insistence. Congress was back in session today and gearing up for a major budget battle that required all hands on deck. Vice President Gooding had resigned on Friday and speculation was running rampant as to who the president would tap to replace him, with much of it focused on Nick, who was waiting for Nelson to make it official.
Her husband was going to be vice president of the United States, pending congressional approval, which was supposedly all but guaranteed. While she’d been repeatedly reassured that her life wouldn’t change all that dramatically, she had her doubts about that. But she’d decided to roll with it the way he always did for her and take the lumps as they came. What else could she do? As long as she didn’t have to quit her job or change who she was, she could handle being the country’s second lady. Right?
“Better not to think about it,” she muttered to herself as she took the elevator to visit Gonzo while her dad was in surgery.
She knocked on the door to his room and tucked her head in. “You aren’t getting a sponge bath or anything, are you?”
“Already done,” he said, his voice weaker than usual but already stronger than it had been the day before. “And fully enjoyed.”
“Ewww.” Sam stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “I see you’re milking this for all it’s
worth.”
“Hell, yes.” Other than the bandage on his neck and the unusual pallor occupying his skin, he looked good as he raised the bed ever so slightly so he could see her better. “How else am I supposed to get any time off from that sweatshop you run?”
“This is true.”
“Skip is in surgery?”
“As we speak.”
“And you’re freaking out.”
“What? Me freak?”
“He’s going to be okay, Sam. He’s almost as tough as his daughter.”
“If you say so.” She sat in the visitor’s chair and propped her feet on the frame under the bed. “Where’s Christina?”
“I sent her home to get some sleep in a real bed. She’s running on fumes.”
“She’s been a trouper. I think she might actually love you.”
His smile lit up his entire face. “Looks that way, huh?” He winced as he tried to find a more comfortable position.
“Need me to fluff your pillow or something?”
“I’m not that desperate.”
“Thank God.”
“Your bedside manner sucks.”
“That’s not what Nick says.” Sam waggled her brows for effect.
“TMI. Speaking of Nick...I might’ve heard a rumor or two about him.”
“That baby is not his.”
“Very funny. And while we’re on the subject of funny, you as second lady... Now that’s funny.”
“Glad you think so. It’s positively terrifying to me.”
“So it’s true?”
“Apparently. I’m officially in denial.”
“That’s incredible, Sam. The part about him getting the job. Not you being in denial, although that’s incredibly funny.”
“You’re a real pal, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Do you have to leave the job?”
“Hell, no. They’ve got it all set up so I can keep the job without Secret Service protection.”
“Wow. That’s cool.”
“They wanted him pretty badly. They knew what buttons to push.”
“When’s the big announcement?”
“Tomorrow. At the White House.”
“Holy shit. Do you have to go?”
“Well, yeah. My husband is being tapped to be vice president of the United States. I think he sort of expects me to be there.”
“Don’t get all testy with me because you’re feeling testy about that.”
“I’m not testy.”
He snorted with laughter and then seemed to regret the movement. “Don’t make me laugh. Hurts.”
“Don’t say stupid shit, and I won’t have to make you laugh.”
“Most people who come to visit are nice to me.”
“I’m not most people.”
“No, you certainly aren’t.”
“Nelson’s people are telling us the confirmation process could get ugly.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Exhausted and it hasn’t even started yet. The scrutiny will be intense, and I haven’t exactly led a quiet, low-key life.”
He visibly bit his lip to keep from laughing, which made her smile.
“I’m really glad you didn’t die on us, Gonzo. That would’ve truly sucked.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I mean it, you know.”
“I know. The doctors said another millimeter to the left, and I was a goner.”
Sam shuddered at the thought of how close they’d come to losing him. “Too many close calls lately. I hope we haven’t used up our quota of good luck in the last couple of weeks.”
“We haven’t. There’s plenty left for your dad too.”
“Let’s hope so.” She traded insults with him for another hour before Christina returned, and Sam left them to return to the surgical waiting room, hoping for an update on her dad.
“Nothing yet,” Celia said when Sam walked in.
Sam’s stepmother was rigid with worry that made Sam even more nervous than she already was. Celia was a nurse, so if she was worried, the rest of them ought to be too. Right?
“Let’s get some air,” she said to Angela and Tracy. To Celia, Sam said, “We’ll be back in a few.”
“I’ll be here.”
The sisters took the elevator to the lobby and walked into the frigid late November chill.
“This is unbearable,” Angela said for all of them.
“I need a smoke,” Tracy said. “Anyone got one?”
Angela and Sam shook their heads.
“Why did we ever give up smoking?” Tracy asked. “Whose big idea was that?”
“Um, I think it was the surgeon general’s,” Angela replied.
“Well, it was a stupid idea.”
“Extremely stupid,” Sam said. She’d quit smoking years ago, and other than an occasional shared puff with her sisters, hadn’t had one since and didn’t miss it. Most of the time. Right now she had to agree with Tracy—a cigarette would be most welcome.
“He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?” Angela asked.
“I don’t know,” Tracy said. “I just don’t know.”
“I’m so glad we had such a nice Thanksgiving with him,” Sam said. “No matter what happens today, he went in there knowing how much everyone loves him.” Throughout the entire day at her house, members of the MPD—past and present—had stopped by to say hello to Skip and wish him well with the surgery.
“I just wish it hadn’t felt like a wake,” Angela said.
“It was not a wake,” Sam snapped at her sister and then instantly regretted it. “It wasn’t a wake, Ang. It was a bunch of friends stopping by to say good luck. That’s all.”
“Sorry,” Angela said softly. “I’m just really stressed out, and I know you guys are too.”
Tracy hugged Angela and then reached for Sam.
“It’s going to be okay,” Sam said. “It has to be.” The alternative was something she wasn’t ready to confront and probably never would be.
* * *
The day crept by slowly, so slowly Sam wondered if the clock was actually working backward.
Nick came straight from work to check on them, bringing four tall coffees that Sam, her sisters and stepmother accepted happily, grateful to have something to do for five minutes besides worry about what was taking so long.
They’d been told to expect the surgery to last about five hours and had been given an update after two hours. Now in hour seven, their nerves were beginning to shred.
Nick took Sam by the hand, put her coffee on a table and led her around the corner from the waiting room, where he put his arms around her.
She slid her hands inside his suit coat and held on. “This was exactly what I needed.”
“I had a feeling.”
Breathing in the scent of starch and cologne and Nick, Sam tried to let go of some of the tension. No matter what happened with her dad, she would find a way to cope with it, and Nick would be right there with her. That was the only thing she knew for certain today.
“Sam.” One word from Tracy conveyed a world of meaning.
Holding Nick’s hand, Sam followed her sister to the waiting room, determined to face whatever happened next with the grace and courage her father had instilled in her.
The neurosurgeon had waited until they were all there to give his report. “It went as well as we could’ve hoped, but it was a complicated surgery and we have no way to really know right now what to expect in the way of recovery.”
“From the surgery or the paralysis?” Sam asked.
“Both.”
“So he could still die?” Angela asked.
“He came through the surgery, which is p
art one. The rest is out of my hands.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Celia said. “We appreciate that you gave him a chance.”
“We’ll let you know when we’ve got him settled in a room.”
Sam left her family to follow the doctor. “Doc, about the bullet.”
“Yes, we’ve got it bagged as evidence. What would you like us to do with it?”
“I’ll have someone come to pick it up shortly. I’d consider it a personal favor if you could make sure nothing happens to it until we’re able to arrange for pickup.”
“I’ll keep it in my possession.” He handed her his card. “Call me when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” He walked away, and Sam made the call to Agent Hill, who answered on the first ring. She told herself that didn’t necessarily mean he’d been waiting for her call. “My dad is out of surgery.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“Thank you.”
Avery arrived a short time later and found them in the waiting room. As soon as Sam saw him, she called the doctor, who promised to be down shortly.
“Thanks for coming,” Sam said to Avery.
“No problem. How is he?”
“He survived the surgery. We’re told that’s part one.”
“Glad to hear it went well.” To Nick he said, “Senator, I understand congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you. I think.”
Everyone laughed at Nick’s reply, which was a much-needed relief from the tension.
The doctor came into the room a few minutes later with a plastic evidence bag containing the chunk of metal that had changed all their lives so profoundly three years ago. Sam eyed the bullet with barely restrained interest, but made no move to touch the bag. Chain of custody would matter at some point, and she wasn’t about to do anything to mess up the most substantial clue they’d had yet in her dad’s unsolved case.
“This is Special Agent-in-Charge Avery Hill with the FBI,” Sam said to the doctor. “He’ll be taking custody of the bullet.”
“I have a couple of forms I need you to sign, Doc,” Hill said.
“Of course.”
Avery produced the forms, which the doctor signed, and then he handed the paperwork and the bag containing the bullet to Hill.
