Fatal Affair

by Marie Force

  “I’ve been in tighter spots.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Before me.”

  “I’m not one of those women who finds this whole alpha-male act sexy. In fact, it’s a major turn off.”

  “Whatever.”

  They rode to Belle Haven in stony silence. Sam didn’t speak until she had to direct him to the dark house. She retrieved her gun and badge from her purse and tucked them into her coat pockets. “Wait here.”

  As if she hadn’t spoken, Nick emerged from the car and followed her up the walk.

  “I told you to wait!”

  “You’re not going in there alone, Sam. It’s either me, or I call 911.” He held up his cell phone defiantly. “What’s it going to be?”

  They engaged in a silent battle of wills until Sam finally said, “Don’t say a word. Do you hear me? Not one freaking word.” She spun around and marched up the front stairs to ring the bell. It echoed in the big house. They waited a couple of minutes before a light went on upstairs. Through the beveled windows next to the door, Sam watched Noel come down the stairs.

  He peeked through the window before he opened the door. “Sergeant Holland?” Blinking, he glanced at Nick.

  “Yes,” Sam said. “I’m sorry to call on you so late.” Begrudgingly, she added, “I believe you know Nick Cappuano.”

  “Of course. Come in.” Noel’s blond hair stood on end. He wore a T-shirt from a road race with flannel pajama pants and hardly resembled the second-ranking attorney at the U.S. Department of Justice she had met the other day.

  Nick and Noel shook hands as he ushered them into the house.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Is Natalie here?” Sam asked, feeling him out.

  Noel’s genial expression faded. “She flew out of here in a rage after we had a fight earlier. She must be at her parents’ house.”

  “Is that something that happens often?” Sam asked. “The rages?”

  “It’s not the first time, but I think it’s going to be the last. I can’t believe what she accused me of! She thinks I could actually kill John O’Connor. Can you even imagine?”

  “People have killed over jealousy before.”

  “I see that she’s voiced her suspicions to you.” Noel ran his hands through his hair. “What do you want, Detective?”

  “Why did you tell me that you attended the Big Brother/Big Sister event the night John was killed?”

  “Because I had it in my date book.”

  “Your date book was off by a week.”

  Noel seemed startled to hear that. “My secretary keeps it up for me.” He thought for a moment. “You know, you’re right. It was two weeks ago. I’m really sorry about that. Things have been insane at work lately, and at home…”

  “What’s been going on at home?” Nick asked.

  Sam glowered at him. “I’ll ask the questions.” Turning back to Noel, she said, “Things have been tense between you and Natalie?”

  “More so than usual since we saw John at a fundraiser a couple of weeks ago. She knows how I feel about her talking and flirting with him in public, so what does she do? Flaunts her ‘friendship’ with him right in front of my face—and everyone in the room is talking about the two of them. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  “Disrespected?” Nick said.

  “I said to be quiet!” Sam hissed.

  Noel directed an ironic chuckle at Nick that infuriated Sam.

  “I guess you can relate, huh?” Noel said to Nick.

  They followed Noel into the living room where he poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter.

  Sam shook her head when he offered them one.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Nick said, earning another glare from Sam.

  “Were you jealous of John?” Sam asked, anxious to wrestle the interview back from the old boy’s club.

  Noel handed Nick a drink and took a seat on the sofa. “I was sick of him. I was sick of hearing about him, sick of running into him. Mostly, I was sick of being her consolation prize.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this the other day?” Sam asked.

  Swirling the amber liquor around his glass, Noel glanced at her. “Because I love her.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pathetic, huh? She has almost no regard for me or my feelings, yet I love her anyway.”

  “Were you sick enough of John O’Connor to kill him, Mr. Jordan?”

  “No! Of course not. I didn’t kill him.”

  “I’d like to give you a polygraph in the morning,” Sam said.

  “Fine. I have nothing to hide.”

  “Natalie said she woke up in the middle of the night John was killed and you were gone?”

  “I was out running. I do that when I can’t sleep.”

  “Do you think Natalie continued to see John after you were married?”

  “We ran into him quite frequently. I’ve told you that.”

  “I don’t mean in public.”

  Sam watched as her meaning dawned on him.

  “You’re not suggesting…”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just asking.”

  “If she’d been seeing him, it’s certainly without my knowledge.” He took a long sip of whiskey, and Sam noticed a slight tremble in his hand.

  “Do you think there’s any way she killed him?”

  “I’d like to say no way, but I honestly don’t know anymore what she’s capable of. I used to think I knew her. All I can say is she’s been genuinely distraught since we heard he was dead. No doubt she’s more upset than she would’ve been if it had been me who’d been murdered. And I’m the one who actually married her.”

  “Do you know about her ex-boyfriend who died in Hawaii?”

  He nodded. “Brad. She’s had more than her share of heartbreak, that’s for sure.”

  Sam stood up. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but I appreciate your candor. I’ll have someone contact you in the morning about the polygraph.”

  At the door, Noel said, “I didn’t kill him, Sergeant. But it doesn’t break my heart that someone else did.”

  “I know you’re dying to tell me what you think,” Sam said as they crossed the 14th Street Bridge on the way back to Capitol Hill.

  “I was told to be quiet.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Nick. That’s the last thing I need right now.”

  “I don’t want that, either. But you’re asking a lot expecting me not to worry about you. He tried to blow you up.”

  “We’re both kind of raw today,” she said, reaching for his hand. “I really do want your impression of Noel.”

  “So you value my opinion?”

  “Yes!”

  Laughing, he curled his fingers around hers.

  Right away, Sam felt better.

  “He didn’t do it,” Nick said, “but he’s not a hundred percent certain that she didn’t.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “I still say she’s the one. She wanted John, he rejected her and she’s never gotten over that.”

  “So why now? What sent her over the edge?”

  “Maybe she didn’t want to see him get the big win with the immigration bill.”

  “Why would she care about that? I keep coming back to that, to the timing of it all on the eve of that vote. Why then?”

  “I can’t see how the bill would have any impact whatsoever on Natalie,” Nick said.

  “Maybe the bill has nothing at all to do with his murder.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Yeah,” Sam said, staring out the window. “Me, too.”

  Chapter 28

  Sam tossed and turned. She dreamed about Peter, Quentin Johnson and Natalie Jordan, and for once she actually remembered the dreams when she awoke with a start, her heart racing. Glancing at the bedside clock, she saw it was just after three and realized Nick wasn’t in bed with her. Her eyes darted around
the dark room and found him standing at the window, the glow of a street light illuminating his tall frame.

  Taking a moment to appreciate his muscular back, she remembered him telling her he loved her and was filled with a warm feeling of contentment and safety that was all new to her. Then she remembered arguing with him over Noel and Natalie, and her stomach took a sickening dip. The soaring highs and crushing lows were just one reason why she’d stayed away from men since she broke up with Peter, who never would’ve been as civil as Nick had been during a fight. Even though they’d disagreed, Sam didn’t doubt for a minute that he loved her. That made him as different from Peter as a man could get.

  She got up and went to Nick. Slipping her arms around him from behind, she pressed her lips to his back. “What’re you doing up?”

  He rested his hands over hers. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “He’s not stupid enough to come back here. By now he knows we’re looking for him.”

  “I think I could kill him if I got my hands on him. I really think I could. Not just because of the bombs, but all those years ago, too. All the years we could’ve had.”

  “He’s not worth losing sleep over, Nick.” She turned him so he faced her and shivered with desire when he ran his hands over her while looking down at her with hot, needy eyes. Looping her arms around his neck, she gasped when he lifted her and carried her back to bed. “I thought you were mad with me.”

  “I am,” he said in an unconvincing tone as he snuggled her against him and pulled the comforter up around them. “Try to get some sleep.”

  She dragged a lazy finger from his chest to his belly and smiled when he trembled under her touch.

  “Sleep, Samantha.”

  “What if I don’t want to, Nick?” she asked, curling her hand around his erection.

  “I’m sleeping,” he said with an exaggerated yawn. “And I’m mad with you.”

  Laughing, she clamped her teeth down on his nipple.

  “Ow! That hurt!”

  “But you’re not asleep anymore,” she said with a victorious smile as she raised herself up to plant wet kisses on his belly while continuing to stroke him.

  His fingers combed through her hair. “You’re going to be tired again tomorrow.”

  “Then I’d better make it count.” She straddled him and teased him by sliding her wet heat over his hard length, her nails lightly scoring his chest.

  He arched his back, seeking her.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said, stopping. “We should get some sleep.”

  Growling, he surged up and entered her with a hard thrust that took her breath away.

  “Mmm,” she sighed, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back in bliss. “All right, if you insist.”

  “I insist. Sleep is highly overrated.” He brought her down to him and fused his lips to hers, his tongue flirting and enticing.

  When she needed to breathe, Sam broke the kiss and moved with painstaking slowness, rising up until they were barely connected, and then taking him deep again. If his sharp intake of air was any indication, he liked it. A lot. So she stopped. “Are you still mad at me?”

  “Yes.” With his hands on her hips, he tried to control the pace, but she wouldn’t be controlled. “Sam…” He moaned, his eyes closed, his jaw tight with tension. “Babe…” Overpowering her, he held her in place and pumped into her. “Come for me. Now.”

  She rolled her hips, but the orgasm hovered just out of reach. “I can’t,” she whimpered.

  Without losing their connection, he turned them over and gave it to her hard and fast, the way she’d told him she liked it, as he sucked her nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue back and forth.

  She cried out when she reached the climax that had eluded her.

  Calling out her name, he went with her.

  Her fingers danced through the dampness on his back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  He raised his head and found her eyes in the milky darkness. “Do what?”

  “Wait for me.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she was grateful for the dark.

  He kissed her. “I’ll always wait for you.”

  “It doesn’t always happen.”

  “It has with me unless you’ve been faking.”

  She smacked his shoulder. “I haven’t!”

  “I know,” he said, laughing as he rolled to his side and brought her with him.

  “It’s been an issue…in the past.”

  “It’s not an issue now.”

  Reaching up to caress his face, she pressed her lips to his neck and breathed in the warm spicy scent she was quickly coming to crave. “I guess the right partner makes all the difference, even when he’s mad with you.”

  “Especially then.” His fingers danced over her hip, sending a new shiver of desire racing through her. “Want to try for a two-fer?”

  “That never happens.”

  He eased her onto her back and kissed his way down the front of her. “Baby, I love a challenge.”

  Sam skipped through her morning routine with far more energy than she should have had. Multiple orgasms had multiple benefits. Who knew? With one last glance at Nick sleeping on his belly, she went downstairs in desperate need of a soda. As the first blessed mouthful cruised through her system, she realized she had no way to get to HQ.

  Laughing softly, she called Freddie and asked him to pick her up. Since her dad wasn’t up yet, she decided to wait for Freddie on the front porch. She surveyed the quiet street, wondering if Peter was out there somewhere watching her and waiting for his next opportunity. They would’ve called her if they’d found him, so she knew it was possible he was watching her.

  “Come and get me, you bastard. You won’t catch me off guard a second time.”

  As she took another long drink of soda, Freddie’s battered Mustang came around the corner with a loud backfire.

  “Gonna wake up the whole freaking neighborhood,” she grumbled.

  He pulled up to the house and leaned over to unlock the passenger door.

  “Do I need a tetanus shot before I ride in this thing?”

  “What’s that they say about beggars and choosers?”

  She battled with the seatbelt. “I’ve got to requisition a new ride.”

  “I’ll take care of that for you, boss.” He offered her one of the powdered donuts from the package on his lap.

  With a scowl, she took one and turned so she could see him. “You’ve done some good work on this case, Cruz. Damn good.”

  His face lit up with pleasure. “Thanks. So after I got home last night, I was kinda wired and couldn’t sleep, ya know?”

  “Uh huh.” Her face flushed when she thought of how she’d worked off her own tension.

  “I got to thinking that maybe there’s some sort of connection besides the sexual kind between O’Connor and one of our people of interest.”

  “What kind of connection?”

  “A domestic—cook, caterer, cleaning lady, gardener.”

  “Possible. Where you going with it?”

  “I know this is way out there, but what if one of the domestics found out about the kid, Thomas, and told someone who’d be infuriated by it?”

  “Worth looking into.”

  “You think?”

  “When are you going to start having some faith in yourself and your instincts?”

  “I don’t know. Soon. I hope.”

  “So do I, because you’re starting to piss me off.”

  “You know what pisses me off?” He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. “Your scumbag ex-husband. He pisses me off.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “Me, too.”

  “It’s all over the papers.”

  “I knew it would be.”

  “I have it there. In the backseat if you wanted to…”

  Her stomach twisted in protest. “That’s all right. Thanks.”

  “He had pictures of you all over his place. It was totally cree
py. There were shots of you from a distance working crime scenes, and he even had a police scanner.”

  Sam’s stomach took a dive at that news. “I should’ve known he wouldn’t just give up and go away. I should’ve known that.”

  “This isn’t your fault,” he said fiercely.

  “So Natalie Jordan paid us a visit last night,” Sam said, anxious to change the subject. She relayed what Natalie told them and went over their visit with Noel. “I don’t think he did it, but I want to get him on a polygraph today. Will you set that up?”

  “Sure thing. I don’t see Noel for it, either. Nothing about him screamed ‘murderer’ to me. Natalie, on the other hand, she’s a cool customer.”

  “Nick said she’s lying about Noel, but he’s never liked her.”

  “He’s got good instincts, though,” Freddie said.

  “Do me a favor when we get in, ask Gonzo and Arnold to check out this address.” She gave him the slip of paper with Natalie’s parents’ address. “And have them go by Noel Jordan’s house in Belle Haven. Get me a couple of hours of surveillance on him before you bring him in.”

  “Got it. Will do.” As they pulled up to the last intersection before the public safety building, he said, “Shit.” He pointed at the street leading to HQ, lined with TV trucks bearing satellite dishes.

  “Goddamn it.”

  He scowled at her choice of words. “Let’s go in through the morgue.”

  “Good plan.”

  They parked on the far side of the building, entered through the basement door and took a circuitous route to the detectives’ pit where Gonzo and Arnold waited for them.

  “We’ve got Terry O’Connor in lockup. He’s lawyering up.”

  “Figured.”

  “They filmed us bringing him in,” Arnold said. “It’ll be the lead story this morning.”

  Captain Malone burst through the door. “The chief just got off the phone with a very angry Senator O’Connor. He’s threatening to call the president.”

  “He can call anyone he wants,” Sam said. “His son had motive, a key and can’t produce his supposed alibi. If he was anyone else, we would’ve had him in here days ago, and you know it. I need to rule him out.”

  They stared each other down for a long moment before Malone blinked. “Get him into interview and either charge him or let him go. And do it quickly.”