by Marie Force
“A few minutes ago.”
“How’s Maeve?”
“Asking for Mommy, but otherwise, she seems fine. She slept well last night. Apparently, he had her in bed with him, and she clung to him all night.”
“God, that’s so sweet and so sad. How do you tell a baby her mom is gone forever?”
“I have no idea. It’s awful. Derek was saying he’d like to get into the house to get some of Maeve’s stuff and more clothes for both of them. Could you make that happen?”
“Sure.” To Freddie, Sam said, “Make a call to Crime Scene about letting Derek Kavanaugh into his house to retrieve some belongings. Have them reach out to him to set up a time.”
“On it.”
“Freddie’s taking care of it,” she said to Nick.
“Thanks. Speaking of babies...”
Sam’s belly ached at the reminder that her sister was in labor. “You got the text about Ang.”
“Uh-huh. How are you, babe?”
Touched that he knew—he always knew—that this would hit her hard, she said, “Fine, good, you know. Excited to meet my niece.”
Freddie had gotten busy with his own phone, but Sam was still mindful that he could hear every word she was saying.
“You’ll get your turn. I really believe that.”
Sam took a deep breath, trying to combat the swell of emotion as his softly spoken words went straight to her heart. She couldn’t talk about this anymore without losing it. “How’s your day going?”
“It’s been surreal. I’m actually thinking about the speech we need to write for the Democratic National Convention.”
“Oh wow. No pressure, huh?”
“Right,” he said with a laugh.
“It’ll be so awesome. They’re going to love you.”
“You might be a tad bit biased.”
“Nah.”
“Samantha.”
Her entire body tingled whenever he said her full name in that particular tone. “Yeah?”
“Don’t go to the hospital to see Ang without me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be home as soon as I can. We’ll go then.”
“It’s a date.”
“Love you, babe. Be careful out there.”
“Love you too,” she said, because she damned well didn’t care if Cruz heard her say it. “And I’m always careful.”
“Oh, and I haven’t forgot your punishment. See ya.”
He ended the call before she could respond, but the reminder sent a bolt of heat straight to her most sensitive areas. Damn him!
It took nearly forty minutes to get to Gaithersburg in midday traffic. Christian Patterson lived in a gated community on the outskirts of town. At the gate, Sam showed her badge. The rent-a-cop examined it closely before returning it to her.
“You the one married to the senator?”
As Freddie snickered in the passenger seat, Sam said, “Yep.” God, she fucking hated when people she encountered through her job asked about her private life.
“Hmm.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing. Go on through.”
“If you give him a heads-up that I’m coming, I’ll be back to arrest you. Got me?”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?”
“That is so nice of you to say.” She rolled up the window to seal off the oppressive heat. “I’m getting all kinds of compliments today.”
“It’s a banner day for you.” Freddie glanced over at her and then straight ahead.
“Something on your mind?”
“I’m wondering...”
“About?”
“Nick will go to the hospital with you to see Angela and the baby, right?”
She’d expected him to say something about the case. Touched that he was concerned about her, she said, “Yes, he’s going with me later. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”
“As long as he’ll be with you, I won’t worry.”
“You’re very sweet to think of that.”
“It’s been a banner day for me with the compliments too.”
She appreciated his effort to diffuse the emotionally charged topic with humor. “Sheesh. Me and my big mouth.”
“I’ll live off this for months and months.”
Christian Patterson lived in a brick-fronted mansion. There was no other word for it. The colonial-style home had black shutters and tall white columns with a beautifully manicured yard.
“Check this place out,” Sam said.
“Nice digs. If this is temporary, imagine what the regular place looks like.”
She turned the car into the half-circle driveway and parked next to a silver Mercedes sedan and a white Mercedes SUV, both with Ohio plates. “My poor little car is feeling intimidated.”
Chuckling, Freddie followed her up the stone walk to the fancy stained-glass entryway.
She rang the doorbell and listened to the chimes echo through the big house. “That would scare the shit out of me if I lived here.”
“You’d never live here. Too pretentious.”
“True.” Sam leaned on the bell again. “It’s like a freaking church or something.”
“Do you have to use the words ‘freaking’ and ‘church’ in the same sentence?”
“Do you have to be so freaking sensitive all the time?”
Before he could fire back, the door swung open, and Christian Patterson stood before them, tall, blond, all-American handsome and wearing nothing but a silk robe. His hair was mussed, and his jaw was covered in stubble. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. “Can I help you?”
They held up their badges, and Sam handled the introductions. “We’d like a few minutes of your time.”
“What’s this about?”
“We’re investigating the murder of Victoria Kavanaugh.” Sam watched him closely but he gave nothing away at the mention of Victoria’s name.
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“May we come in to discuss it further?”
He glanced over his shoulder and then back at them. “Um, sure, I guess.”
“Are you home alone, Mr. Patterson?”
“My wife is here, but she’s upstairs.”
“And your children?”
“They’re at camp.”
Ah, Sam thought, so Mom and Dad were taking some time for themselves while the kids are out of the house.
He stepped aside to admit them.
“Nice place,” she said in what had to be the understatement of the century.
Showing them to a formal living room, he said, “Oh, thanks. It’s temporary. We’re only here until the election, and then it’s back home to Ohio.”
Sam and Freddie sat on a sofa while he took the love seat across from them. She said a silent prayer of thanks that his robe stayed closed as he sat, because she suspected he was naked under there.
“What’s your role in your father’s campaign?”
“I’m a senior adviser.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Basically, I’m one of the campaign managers—one of two with direct access at all times to the candidate.”
“With such an important job in the campaign, I’m surprised to find you at home in the middle of a work day.”
“We’ve been on the road for the last week. I got back late last night.”
Sam noted that the travel put him conveniently out of town at the time of Victoria’s murder. “And where were you?”
“Houston, Dallas, Austin, San Antonio, Oklahoma City, Little Rock, Nashville, Chattanooga and Atlanta. I think that was all the stops. It’s a blur of airports and cities and hotels.”
Sam produced the letter of recommendation Tornquist had written for Victoria and handed it to Patterson. “Have you ever seen this before?”
He scanned it and handed it back to her. “Um, no. Should I have?”
“According to Congressman Tornquist, you asked him to write th
e letter for Victoria.”
For the first time, Christian’s cool composure seemed to rattle a bit. “He said I did what?”
Sam made an effort to speak more slowly to ensure he’d understand this time. “He said you asked him to provide a letter of recommendation for Victoria Taft, later Victoria Kavanaugh, when she applied for a position at Calahan Rice.”
“I have no idea who Victoria Taft or Victoria Kavanaugh is. I’ve never heard of her or Calahan Rice. What is that? A law firm?”
“It’s a lobby firm representing the auto industry.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Or her.”
“So you didn’t hear this week that the wife of White House deputy chief of staff Derek Kavanaugh was murdered and his young daughter kidnapped? It was kind of a big story. I’d imagine the media in Austin and Oklahoma City and Chattanooga covered it.”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Of course I heard about her this week. I meant that I’d never heard of her before this week.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad you clarified that. So can you explain why the congressman would’ve told us that you asked him to write the letter?”
“I have no idea why he would’ve told you that. I barely know him.”
“Christian!” a woman called from upstairs. “Are you coming back to bed?”
His face heated with color. “I’ll be right there, honey.” Returning his attention to Sam and Freddie, he said, “Sorry about that. We don’t get many days together during the campaign.”
“We’re so sorry to interrupt,” Sam said, making sure to inflict her tone with a hint of sarcasm. “How long has your father been planning to run for president?”
The question seemed to take him by surprise. “Ah, I’m not sure when he first started making plans. He’s been talking about it for a long time.”
“Define ‘long time.’ Are we talking a year, two years, five years, ten?”
“Probably more like ten. It’s always been a goal of his. He’s gotten serious about it in the last decade or so.”
“Would you describe him as an ambitious man?”
That drew a laugh from Christian. “Yeah, you could say that. He’s a self-made billionaire. What does that tell you? He grew up in total poverty in Appalachia.”
“In West Virginia?” she asked, thinking of William Eldridge.
“Yes, why?”
“No reason. Just wondering.”
“He’s extremely ambitious and driven to succeed. He’s instilled those same qualities in me and my siblings.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Two brothers and a sister.”
“Do any of them work for your father’s campaign?”
“My brother Colton does.”
“And what does he do?”
“Same as me. Senior adviser.”
“Where can we find him?”
“He lives in the guesthouse out back, but I don’t think he’s home.”
“Where else would he be?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t keep tabs on him.”
“Was he on the trip with you?”
“Not this one.”
“What do your other siblings do?”
“My brother Billy is a firefighter in Ohio, and my sister Tanya is married and lives there with her family.”
“Whereabouts in Ohio?”
“Defiance.”
Same town the fictional Victoria Taft was from. Bells and whistles sounded in Sam’s head as the planets slipped into alignment. It was all she could do to hide her reaction. Play it cool, she thought. We still haven’t proven anything.
“I’m afraid I have to ask if there’s a point to all these questions that you might be getting to sometime today? My wife is waiting for me—”
“I know, I know,” Sam said, “and you don’t get much time alone with her.”
“Yes,” he said, flushing again.
“One last question,” Sam said. “How driven are you to ensure your father is elected?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly taken aback by the question.
“How far would you or your brother go to make sure he gets what he’s always wanted?”
“We wouldn’t break any laws, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m merely asking how far you’d go to help him reach his goal.”
“Well, I’ve put my own life on hold for the last year to help run his campaign. I’ve moved my wife and school-aged kids halfway across the country, away from their friends and activities, so I could be better situated. I’d say I’ve already shown how far I’d go to help him get where he wants to be.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do all that? Why uproot the family and put your own life on hold to help your father?”
He looked at her as if she’d asked the most ludicrous question he’d ever heard. “Because he asked me to.”
“And all he has to do is ask?”
“He’s my father, Lieutenant.”
“Your brother feels the same way?”
“Of course he does. Our father did everything for us. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for him.”
Bingo, Sam thought. He’d said exactly what she’d wanted to hear. She stood, and Freddie scampered to his feet, no doubt surprised by her sudden retreat. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Patterson.”
“You’re not going to tell me what this was about?”
“I’m not really sure what it’s about,” she said, eyeing him. She wished her more intimidating look was available, but the damned injury was impairing her. “But you can bet I’m going to find out.”
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” She handed her card to Christian. “Have your brother give me a call.”
Leaving Christian Patterson holding her card and staring at her with puzzlement on his handsome face, Sam headed for the door with Freddie hot on her heels.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” Freddie whispered as they went down the walk to the car.
“You’re swearing,” she said, making an effort to sound scandalized.
“I thought the occasion warranted it.”
“You’re damned right it does.” She got in the car and started it, relieved by the immediate flow of air-conditioning. Today was even hotter than yesterday had been, if that was possible. As she shifted the car into reverse, she noticed Christian Patterson watching them leave from a downstairs window.
“What do we do now?” Freddie asked as they drove away.
“Now we rip apart the Patterson family and figure out which one of them—or how many of them—set this whole thing in motion.”
* * *
After lunch, Nick called his top three advisers to his office, intending to share the news about the keynote and start work on the speech. Christina Billings, his chief of staff, who’d arrived late that morning due to a babysitting crisis with her fiancé’s son, was the first to come into the office.
The petite blonde looked uncharacteristically flustered. “I’m so sorry about this morning, Nick. Angela wasn’t due for another week, so Tommy’s mother isn’t here yet to help us with Alex while Ang is on maternity leave.” Sam’s sister Angela watched Gonzo’s son while he was working.
Nick had never seen Christina so undone. She was usually the picture of cool competence. “It’s no problem. You worked late last night.”
“Still, I feel bad being out without prior notice. Tommy couldn’t miss the morning meeting at HQ, so I stayed home until Celia called and offered to take Alex. She saved our lives.”
“She’s pretty awesome,” Nick said. “Take a deep breath, Chris. Everything’s fine.” He was shocked when Christina’s chin began to wobble. Oh shit, he thought. “What is it?”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said softly. As chief and deputy chief of staff to John O’Connor they’d formed a tight bond that had only deep
ened since John died. When Nick took office, he’d promoted her to the top spot on his staff.
“Do what?” he asked, sitting next to her.
“Something’s got to give. I can’t have this job and a family too.”
“Why not?”
“Because, I constantly feel pulled in a thousand different directions. I never feel like anything gets enough of my attention. I feel like I’m staying one step ahead of disaster at all times.” She stopped herself and looked up at him, seeming horrified. “God, what am I thinking? You’re my boss, for God’s sake. You’re the last person I should be having this conversation with.”
“I sort of thought we were friends too. We’ve been through an awful lot together, you and me.”
“Yes, we have,” she said as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Terry O’Connor knocked and stuck his head in. “You wanted to see me, Senator?”
“Give me ten minutes. Tell Trevor too.”
“Okay.”
Terry closed the door when he left.
“Talk to me as your friend—not your boss,” Nick said.
“Kinda hard to separate the two,” she said with a wan smile.
“Try.”
“Well, if you insist... I love Tommy and Alex. I love them both so much, and we’re so happy together. But no matter where I am, I feel like I need to be somewhere else.”
“Have you talked to Tommy about it?”
She shook her head. “How can I when he certainly feels the same way? Ever since Alex came into our lives, we’ve both been going a mile a minute. We never get to take a breath.”
“A year ago, I might’ve told you you’re crazy to be talking this way. I would’ve reminded you how lucky we are to have such kick-ass jobs, and said you’d be crazy to even think about giving that all up to stay home with a baby who isn’t even technically yours.”
“And now?”
“Now everything is different, and I get it. Some things are more important than work. I’d hate to lose you on my team, especially right when things are starting to get interesting, but you have to do what’s best for you and your family.”
“What does that mean, ‘when thing are starting to get interesting’?”
Nick told her about the conversation he and Graham had had with Brendan Halliwell the night before.
“Oh, Nick...” Her eyes widened. “I mean, Senator. I’m sorry. I still forget sometimes.”
