Fatal Threat

by Marie Force

  Upon seeing the photo and the striking resemblance between father and son, Gonzo laughed. “Yeah, that’s a nonstarter.”

  “Exactly,” Sam said. “This photo and the story of Nick’s hospital ‘wedding’ will be released to the media by Nick’s office later today.” She glanced at her husband and saw that he was looking down at the floor, no doubt embarrassed to be caught up in his mother’s lies. They were going to have to do something about her, something radical and dramatic, but that would have to wait until after this case was closed.

  “An hour ago, I learned that before he died, Peter granted an interview about me to Buzz Janson at Politician.com. Nick, what can you tell us about Janson and the site?”

  “He’s the founder of Politician.com, which is generally known as a gossip site. They like to stir the pot and don’t really care about whether what they’re publishing is truth or fiction. In addition, it’s widely known that Buzz pays for exclusives, which the mainstream media won’t do. While official Washington disregards most of what’s published there, he does get a lot of attention in wider circles.”

  Sam’s stomach ached at the thought of a salacious story about her going public. To Andrea, she said, “Do we have an advance copy of the article?”

  “Not the full piece,” Andrea said, “just the highlights, which include details about your acrimonious first marriage, your miscarriages, your divorce and other quote-unquote, ‘bombshells that’ll expose the second lady’s scandalous past.’”

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Sam said.

  “Everyone knows he deals in bullshit,” Andrea says.

  “Everyone in DC knows,” Sam said, “but when the story is picked up elsewhere, people will believe it because it originated with a DC publication.”

  Andrea couldn’t deny that, and she didn’t try.

  “Here’s the thing,” Sam said. “For all his many faults, Peter was deeply affected by the miscarriages we suffered through when we were married. There is no way he would talk about that, not even for money.”

  “What’re you suggesting, Lieutenant?” Malone asked.

  “That he was tortured for information about me that could be used against me—and Nick.” There. It had been said out loud and could never be taken back. If her theory turned out to be true, there’d be no denying that Peter’s horrific murder was directly related to her and her family. How would she ever live with that?

  For a long moment, everyone was silent as they considered the implications.

  Nick, who was sitting on the sofa while she perched on the arm next to him, reached for her hand, offering comfort she wasn’t sure she could accept. Her feelings were all over the place. She’d spent so much time actively despising Peter and with good reason. But now...

  Suddenly, she felt like she was actually going to be sick. Her legs felt leaden as she bolted for the stairs and took them two at a time, wanting the privacy of her own room. The Secret Service agent stationed in the hallway stood when he saw her coming.

  Sam kept moving, slamming her bedroom door closed behind her and bolting for the bathroom. She leaned over the toilet and vomited the meager contents of her stomach. The thought of what he’d endured was more than she could bear to imagine.

  Nick came into the bathroom, closed the door behind him and came up behind her, gathering her hair.

  “Don’t,” she said. “I want to be alone.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Samantha.”

  She broke down into sobs that infuriated her. She had a job to do. There was no time for ridiculous emotional outbursts. Someone had orchestrated a smear job targeting her family and had used her ex-husband to do it. She was determined to figure out who was responsible. Becoming emotional over things she couldn’t change wouldn’t get the job done.

  She flushed the toilet, wiped the tears from her face and stood on shaky legs, moving to the sink to wash her face and brush her teeth. When she’d pulled herself together as much as she possibly could, she prepared to return to the living room to get her team organized.

  “Give yourself a minute, babe.” Nick wrapped his arms around her from behind, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror.

  “I don’t need a minute.”

  “Samantha.”

  He wasn’t going to let her bullshit him. Most of the time she loved that about him. Now, when she had too much to do and not enough time to do it, she was annoyed by it.

  “Take a few breaths,” he said in the soft, sexy voice he usually reserved for intimate moments. He nudged her hair out of the way and kissed her neck, which took some of the starch out of her spine. “It’s totally understandable that you’re upset about what was done to Peter.”

  “I shouldn’t be. He was a monster to me.”

  “If you weren’t upset, you’d be the monster, and you’re anything but.”

  “I hate that this happened to him,” she whispered, her eyes welling with new tears.

  “I do too.”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about any of it.”

  “You’re handling it the best way you possibly can, by hunting down his killer and putting the pieces together.” He turned her to face him, tipping her chin up. “I’m always incredibly proud of you, but I’ve never been more proud than I am now. It would’ve been so much easier for you to let someone else deal with Peter’s case, but even after everything he put you—and us—through, you still want him to have the best. You still want to give him you.”

  “I could never do that if you didn’t approve. I hope you know that.”

  “I do, and I definitely approve. I just hate the direction the case is taking and how you’ll suffer over it.”

  “I can’t help it. This happened to him because of me.”

  “Actually, it was probably more because of me than you,” he said grimly.

  “Who would do something like this?”

  “I wish I knew, but I think you need to start with Buzz Janson and the reporter who interviewed my mother and work backward from there. You’ll get to the source eventually.”

  Sam nodded. “Yes, we will.”

  “Could I make a suggestion?”

  “I guess.”

  “Pick it up in the morning? It’s after seven now, and I can tell by looking at you that you’re completely exhausted. Not to mention, we need to check on Shelby and the baby.”

  Sam didn’t want to put it off until tomorrow, but she couldn’t deny her exhaustion or her desire to see Shelby. “Okay. Let me just go hand out some assignments, and we’ll pick it up in the morning.”

  “First,” he said, gathering her into a hug, “let me have one more minute of this.”

  Sam dropped her head to his chest, allowing him to shoulder the burden for her. Before him, before them, she wouldn’t have known how to yield to someone else. He’d shown her how and that there was no shame in sharing the load rather than trying to carry it by herself.

  “Let’s go down there and wrap this up,” she said several minutes later.

  “I’m with you, babe.”

  “That makes all the difference.” She went up on tiptoes to kiss him. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, my love.”

  Holding hands, they went back downstairs to a buzz of conversation. Sam nodded to Avery, who had joined them in her absence. The conversation stopped when they walked into the room.

  “Here’s the plan,” Sam said. “Lilia, Andrea, I want a copy of Buzz’s story sent to me as soon as you can get your hands on it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Andrea said. “I’m working my contacts to get a copy.”

  “See if you can also get us an advance look at Nick’s mother’s interview.”

  “I just forwarded that to your email. You should have it.”

  “Great work—thank yo
u. Gonzo and Cruz, meet me here at seven a.m. We’re going to start with Buzz and then hunt down Amber Dillon, the reporter who did the interview with Nick’s mother. We’ll work backward from there. Someone set this up, and we’re going to find out who.”

  “What can I do?” Avery asked.

  “Get me everything the Feds have on Buzz Janson and Amber Dillon.”

  Avery nodded and made a note.

  “We’ve also got Peter’s neighbor Raul looking at film at HQ, trying to identify someone he said was a new friend of Peter’s named Dante who’d been coming around lately,” Gonzo said. “We think it’s possible he was the one who tortured Peter.”

  “Check in with Archie and see where we are with that,” Sam said.

  “What about the girlfriend?” Malone asked. “What’re we doing with her?”

  “Nothing else for now other than keeping her alive. We believe it’s possible she met the man who might’ve killed Peter. She gave us a list of possible people, and we’re going to match them to what Raul gives us.” To her third-shift detectives, Sam said, “Carlucci and Dominguez, you can pick up that angle overnight tonight. Gonzo can brief you.”

  “Got it,” Dominguez said. “Will do.”

  “Thank you, everyone, for coming on short notice. Keep me posted of any developments overnight.”

  The other cops departed, leaving Nick, her father, Avery, Harry, Lilia and Andrea remaining.

  “It sure is fun to watch you work, Lieutenant,” Harry said.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Lilia said. “It’s very exciting.”

  Harry smiled at her, and if Sam wasn’t mistaken, her formidable chief of staff blushed. Well, hello there. Because finding Harry a girlfriend was one of Sam’s top personal goals, she asked Andrea if she could speak to her in private for a moment. That served the dual purpose of leaving Lilia standing alone with Harry next to the fireplace.

  “You needed me, ma’am?” Andrea asked.

  “Call me Sam, and I just wanted to thank you for your hard work. It’s very helpful to have advance copies of those interviews.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll stay on the Politician.com people to get an advance copy of that one.”

  “I appreciate it.” She glanced at Lilia and Harry, whose heads were bent toward each other in conversation. “Do me a favor. Give them a minute to talk, will you?”

  Andrea glanced over at Lilia, her brows furrowing until she figured out what Sam was really asking. “Oh... Of course.” She smiled. “You’re one heck of a multitasker, aren’t you?”

  “So I’ve been told. He’s one of the best guys I know.”

  “She’s amazing, as you also know.”

  “Precisely.” Sam flashed a smug grin and left Andrea to work on her phone while Sam went over to talk to her dad.

  “How’re you holding up, baby girl?”

  “I’m okay.”

  His sharp blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I call bullshit.”

  “I’m upset about what happened to Peter and the possibility that it happened because he was once involved with me.”

  “Understandable. Maybe you should turn the investigation over to your team to finish it up?”

  “Maybe I should, but we both know I won’t.”

  Skip grunted out a laugh. “Wonder where you get your stubborn streak.”

  “Right from you, old man.”

  “Who you calling old?”

  Sam leaned over to kiss him. “Thanks for coming over when I needed you.”

  “I always want to be here when you need me.”

  “Love you, Skippy.”

  “Love you too, baby girl. Keep me posted?”

  “You know I will.” She walked beside him as he directed his motorized wheelchair to the door, which Nate opened for them.

  “Thank you, Nate,” Skip said. Of course he knew the agent’s name. That didn’t surprise Sam in the least.

  “My pleasure, Deputy Chief Holland.”

  Sam watched her dad navigate his wheelchair down the ramp to the sidewalk that would lead to the ramp at his house, three doors down. “Thank you for that, Nate.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Using his title. It pleases him that people remember.”

  “Of course,” Nate said. “He deserves our respect and admiration.”

  “He certainly does. I appreciate it.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Sam turned to survey the room, noting with pleasure that Harry was still talking to Lilia, and whatever he’d said had made her laugh. Excellent. Andrea was seated on the sofa, talking on her cell phone. Wait. Where were Nick and Avery? Oh no. No, no, no.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “I NEED AN EXPLANATION for how my wife’s name came out your mouth while you were in bed with your fiancée,” Nick said without preamble after he asked Avery to step into the kitchen with him. He’d had just about enough of this entire situation.

  “I wish I had an explanation for you and Shelby, but I don’t. I never think about your wife that way. Not anymore.”

  “I thought you and I had an understanding after our flight home from Tennessee earlier this year.”

  “We did. We do.”

  “Then why is this issue coming up again?”

  “I wish I knew. I’m sure that once Shelby has time to recover and think about it, she’ll change her mind about quitting. She loves working for you both, and she adores Scotty.”

  “We love her. We hope she’ll reconsider.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Have you seen her and the baby?”

  “Yes, I was with them before I came here. He’s beautiful, and she’s delighted.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I’m sorry about all this,” Avery said haltingly. “I never meant for any of it to happen.”

  Sam came bursting into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Nothing,” Nick said with a meaningful look for Avery. “We’re done here.”

  “I’ll speak with you in the morning,” Avery said to Sam as he took his leave.

  “What did you say to him?” Sam asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Nick. Tell me what you said.”

  “I asked him how it was possible that my wife’s name had made it into his bedroom.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “You did not.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Like he doesn’t feel bad enough.”

  “I honestly don’t care how he feels. This entire situation is out of control. She quit her job, Samantha. Don’t tell me it doesn’t affect us. What the hell are we going to do without her?”

  “I don’t know, but I have no stomach for a fight about him or them right now. Let’s go see her at the hospital.”

  “It’s kind of late now.”

  “I need to see her. Can you make it happen?”

  “Let me talk to Brant.” He came over to her, slipped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. Believe it or not, I get it. I’d feel the same way if some sexy woman was uttering your name at the wrong moment.”

  Nick’s brows furrowed. “So you think he’s sexy?”

  “Shut up, and go talk to Brant.”

  “I’ll go talk to Brant, but I want an answer to that question.”

  Sam gave him a little shove to direct him toward the door.

  When she was alone in the kitchen, Sam made herself a peanut-butter sandwich, needing to put something in her stomach after being sick. She hated appearing weak in front of her team, but confirming that Peter’s death was somehow related to her had messed her up.

  After eating
the sandwich, she fixed a glass of ice water and drank most of it and began to feel her legendary mojo returning. This was no time to let her emotions take over. She had a job to do, and she’d get it done. Then, and only then, would she allow herself to fall apart.

  The kitchen door swung open to admit her son, who was all smiles after his big night out with Mrs. L.

  “Shelby had the baby!”

  “I heard.”

  “When can we see her?”

  “Hi, Mom, how are you? How was your night? I had a nice time with Mrs. L.”

  Scotty rolled his eyes and came over to give her a quick hug. “I did have a nice time. She says to say hi, and she’ll see you next time. Now, when can we see Shelby?”

  Sam ran her fingers through his thick dark hair, earning a scowl from her thirteen-year-old. “Dad is talking to Brant about making it happen.”

  “Ugh, so that means we have to wait. I’m gonna text her and tell her we’re coming to make sure it’s okay.”

  He had his phone out before Sam could reply. “She says they’re still awake and to come over. I’m going to talk to Darcy to get things moving.”

  Sam shook her head at his exuberance. She understood why Shelby had felt the need to quit, but Sam didn’t honestly believe that Shelby would ever leave Scotty. She loved him too much. Perhaps he would help to smooth things over and get them back on track with their beloved assistant. Sam could only hope so because Nick was right—they’d be lost without her.

  Nick poked his head into the kitchen. He’d changed into jeans and his favorite Harvard T-shirt. He looked nothing at all like the vice president of the United States and everything like her sexy husband. “Let’s go.”

  Sam put down her glass and took the hand he offered her.

  “How you feeling?” he asked.