by Marie Force
Nick wiped the tears from her face and combed his fingers through her hair.
After a while, Sam noticed the trembling had stopped. She released a deep sigh of relief. The crisis had passed.
“Feel better?” he asked.
Suddenly embarrassed by the outburst, she tried to pull away from him. “Yeah.”
“Don’t, Sam.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t be ashamed of being as human as the rest of us mere mortals.”
For whatever reason, that made her laugh. She looked up at him, not even caring that he would see her tear-ravaged face. “You are exactly perfect for me, and I love you.”
“Well,” he said, clearly caught off guard, “that works out well because you’re exactly perfect for me too, and I love you.”
She snuggled back into his chest. “We ought to get married or something.”
“Or something.”
“Did you hear from Tinker Bell today?”
“She sent over her estimate.”
“And?”
He rattled off a number that made Sam sit up and gasp.
“You gotta be freaking kidding me.”
“That’s for everything—her, the reception at the Hay, the church, the flowers, the cars, the cake. Everything except dresses and tuxes.”
“That’s outrageous! We could sponsor a third world nation for a year with that much money!”
“We can always elope—fly to Vegas and be done with the whole thing.”
As much as that idea appealed to her, she couldn’t deny him the wedding she knew he wanted, even if he’d skip it to spare her. “We’re not flying to Vegas.” She sounded sulky, even to herself.
“Are you sure?”
She realized this was her last chance to beg off the big white wedding. Once they signed the contract with Tinker Bell, it would be out of her hands. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
He arranged her under him and gazed down at her. “I’m not convinced.”
Sam studied his handsome face as a new swell of emotion reminded her that there was absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do to make him happy. She lifted her arms to encircle his neck. “It’s so much money.”
He bent his head and gave her a sweet kiss. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered. I have some of my own money too.” She knew he meant in addition to what John had left him. “Back in the day, all I did was work. The money tends to add up when you’re all work and no play.”
“You’re sure this is how you want to spend it?”
His sexy mouth twisted into a sinful smile. “I’m very sure, but only if it’s what you want too.”
“I’ll allow it on one condition.”
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
“I get to pay for the honeymoon.”
“You don’t have to—”
Sam tugged his head down and kissed him. “That’s my final offer.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “You drive a tough bargain, but okay. I’ll allow it.”
“You’ll allow it? Allow it?” As Sam started a wrestling match that would no doubt lead to lovemaking, she realized the cloud of sadness and despair had lifted. Since he was the only guy who could’ve done that for her, she supposed it was the least she could do to give him a day neither of them would ever forget.
Chapter 17
For a long time after Sam finally fell asleep, Nick lay awake watching her. She was always so strong and in control. To see her any other way was disconcerting, even if the breakdown was understandable. The long day of looking for Jeannie, finding her bruised and battered—and God knows what else she’d endured—would make anyone crack under the pressure, even his cool, competent Samantha.
Running his fingers through her long toffee-colored curls, he was glad that she’d let go of it all with him, glad he could be there when she needed him. He wanted to always be there when she needed him. Their wedding couldn’t happen soon enough for him. Sam would prefer to run off and elope. He knew that. But Shelby would make sure it was a day they’d remember always, and Nick wanted that for both of them.
His cell phone rang, startling him since his phone wasn’t the one that rang in the middle of the night. Nick reached for it, hoping it wouldn’t wake Sam. “Hello,” he whispered.
“Senator Cappuano? This is Dr. Manchester at Huron Hospital in Cleveland.”
Baffled, Nick pulled on gym shorts and left the room, closing the door behind him. “What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to let you know that your mother was brought into the emergency room tonight. She fell down a flight of stairs.”
“Is she…is she okay?” Nick wondered why the doctor had called him. He hadn’t seen his mother in more than five years.
“She’s suffered a number of bumps, bruises and abrasions but no broken bones. We did a CT scan to rule out a head injury, and that came up clear.”
“Okay.” Nick swallowed hard. “What can I do?”
“She would like you to come, if that’s at all possible.”
Nick had no idea what to say as he was revisited by the old familiar twinge of hope. It took him right back to countless occasions during his childhood when his mother promised to come see him and then never showed up.
“Senator?”
“She really wants me to come there?” Nick heard the confused ten-year-old he’d once been in the wistful tone of his voice.
“She said she doesn’t have anyone else.”
Nick bent his head, took a deep breath and wondered what had become of the guy she’d married the last time he saw her. Before he could wrap his head around all the reasons why it was a bad idea, he said, “I’ll be there in the morning. Will you let her know?”
“Yes, of course.”
He went downstairs to the kitchen, looking for a pen. “Is there a number I can call to check on her before I leave?”
The doctor gave him the number for the nurses’ station. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then,” Nick said. He ended the call and leaned against the counter for a minute before he went into the study to log on to the computer to buy a plane ticket.
When he returned to the bedroom Sam sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp. “Who was on the phone?”
He was sorry to have woken her. “No one, babe. Go on back to sleep.”
“Didn’t sound like no one to me.”
Still holding the phone, Nick sat on the bed. “My mother fell down the stairs. She’s in the hospital.”
“Oh. Wow. And she called you?”
“The doctor did. She told him she didn’t have anyone else.”
Sam shifted so she was behind him, her arms looped around his shoulders and her chin propped on his head. “What’re you going to do?”
“I’m going out there tomorrow.”
“I don’t even know her name—your mother.”
“Nicoletta Bernadino. That was her maiden name, anyway. I have no idea what name she’s using these days.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Five years ago.”
“How about talked to her?”
“Two or three.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Let’s go back to sleep.” She tried to cajole him into bed.
He turned to her. “What do you want to say?”
“Nothing,” she said, but he didn’t believe it. He could see the questions in her cool blue eyes.
“Samantha…”
“I’m just, you know, finding the timing interesting.”
“How so?”
“You recently came into a lot of money. I hope that’s not what this is about.”
Nick experienced a pang of worry. It certainly wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. His mother’s life had been nothing if not a hand-to-mouth existence marked by multiple marriages and an equal number of divorces.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said after a long moment of silence. “I sh
ouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine.” He got back into bed and shut off the light. “It’s nothing that hasn’t occurred to me too.”
“But you’re still hopeful that maybe she just wants her son with her when she’s in the hospital.”
He shrugged. Leave it to Sam to hit the bull’s-eye.
Sam shifted so she was on top of him and kissed his chest. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Nick. That would hurt me too.”
Sighing, he put his arms around her.
“Don’t let her hurt you, okay?” she whispered
Easing her down to rest on him, he kissed the top of her head. “I won’t.” But as he said the words he wondered if, even at thirty-six, he was capable of seeing his mother and not hoping for anything.
Sam dropped Nick at Reagan National Airport just after six. He looked so handsome in a black leather jacket and well-worn jeans. In his hazel eyes, Sam saw a hint of anxiety and vulnerability that worried her.
“Call me when you get there,” she said, kissing him at the curb.
“I will.” He tapped his finger on her nose. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Too late.”
Hugging her, he whispered, “Love you, babe.”
“Love you too, Senator.”
A flash interrupted the moment.
Sam snarled at the photographer who had taken their picture.
“Where ya headed, Senator?” the photog asked.
Sam noted he was from The Washington Star. “None of your business,” she said. To Nick, she added, “You’d better go before you witness a murder.”
Nick laughed. “Behave yourself. I’ll be back tonight.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Be careful today.”
Rather than her usual reply, she said, “You too.” Filled with trepidation, she watched him go and returned the wave he sent her as he approached the terminal door. She wished she could go with him to protect him from whatever emotional firestorm awaited him in Cleveland.
“What happened with McBride yesterday?” the nosy photographer asked.
Sam had forgotten he was there. “Also none of your business.”
“Is it related to the dead immigrants?”
She went around her car to get in. “No comment.”
“You’re Miss Congeniality today,” the photog grumbled.
Sam took great pleasure in flipping him the bird as she drove off, heading for the meeting she’d called at HQ. When she remembered what she needed to tell her detectives about what had happened to their colleague she felt sick.
At seven, she found a somber group gathered in the conference room. Just like breaking news to victims’ families, Sam knew that short and to the point was the best course in situations like this. As she geared herself up to begin, Captain Malone and Chief Farnsworth stepped into the back of the room.
Sam nodded to them and returned her focus to the roomful of grim-faced detectives who were looking to her for leadership and answers to questions. They’d get answers for Jeannie and Regina and Maria and every other woman that animal had attacked. Sam had no doubt about that.
“As you all know, Detective Jeannie McBride was abducted in the Eye Street/Foggy Bottom neighborhood sometime between 0700 and 0730 yesterday morning. She was found fourteen hours later in an alley in the Adams Morgan neighborhood. She had been beaten and sexually assaulted.”
A gasp went through the room. Detective Tyrone dropped his head into his hands. Freddie placed a comforting hand on his colleague’s shoulder.
“She returned with a message from her attacker,” Sam continued. “According to Detective McBride, he told her to tell me to back off the case or I’d be next.”
She glanced at Malone and Farnsworth, certain they’d be all over her about protection after the meeting.
“I’ll be interviewing Detective McBride further about the abduction and attack this morning. It’s important to note that she has asked that her boyfriend and family members not be told about the sexual assault until she feels ready to tell them. It goes without saying that no one is to speak to the media or anyone else about the details of Detective McBride’s abduction. Except for emergencies, all leave is canceled until we get this guy.”
“What can we do, Lieutenant?” Cruz asked, looking fierce and furious.
“Where are we on that cell phone data?”
“I just talked to the phone company,” Gonzo replied. “They promised it by ten a.m.”
“Let them know that at one minute past ten, I’m going to Forrester,” she said. “This is bullshit. We’ve got two dead women and the cell company is worried about their privacy?” Trying to control her anger, Sam rested her hands on her hips. “Tyrone, check on what the lab found in Jeannie’s car and get me a report.”
He seemed relieved to have something to do. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I want all available personnel on Eye Street by 0900. Let’s find a security camera or someone who saw the abduction.”
“I’ll authorize overtime,” Farnsworth said.
“Thank you, Chief. Cruz, give Regina’s mother a call,” Sam said, her mind racing. “Make it a courtesy call, as if you’re checking on how she’s doing. See what you can find out about Regina’s life here, anything she might’ve told her mother about men or friends or hobbies. Anything you can get.”
“Do you want me to call Maria’s family too?” Freddie asked.
Knowing how difficult the calls would be for her sensitive partner, she appreciated his offer. “That’d be great. Let me know what you find out.” To the others, she said, “One of our own has been drugged, kidnapped, attacked and beaten. Let’s show this son of a bitch the full might of the MPD. That’s all.”
Their faces tense and determined, the detectives left the room to go do what they did best.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Sam said as soon as she was alone in the conference room with Malone and Farnsworth. “So don’t get going on safe houses and taking me off the street or any other nonsense. One of my detectives was snatched. There’s no way you’re taking me off this case.”
“All right.” Farnsworth’s eyes locked on her and his jaw ticked with tension. “Why don’t you tell me how you plan to ensure that this guy, who managed to grab a smart, savvy detective off a city street in broad daylight, won’t do the same to you.”
“Because I’ll be watching for him, and she wasn’t.”
“Now you have eyes in the back of your head too?” Malone asked.
“One of my many gifts.”
“This guy is brazen, Lieutenant,” Farnsworth said. “He won’t think twice about coming after you if he sees you as a threat to his freedom.”
“I’ll be vigilant.”
“You’ll also be tailed while on duty.”
“No way! That is not happening—”
“It’s either that or you’re off the case,” Farnsworth said.
“I don’t need a tail! It’s a ridiculous waste of resources.”
“They’re my resources to waste. Take it or leave it.”
Fuming, Sam stared him down for a long moment in which he never blinked. The old guy still had a good bit of scary left in him. “Fine. Whatever. Just tell them to stay the hell out of my way.”
“You might want to consider offering them hazardous duty pay, Chief,” Malone said with a grin aimed at Sam. “Ever since she was forced off the diet soda she’s been a bit…grouchy.”
She glared at him.
“Before you hit the streets, you need to meet with the press,” Farnsworth said.
“This day just gets better and better,” Sam said. What she wouldn’t give for a diet cola right about then. Maybe she’d have one in defiance of Dr. Harry’s orders. Surely just one couldn’t hurt anything, right?
“They’re clamoring for information about Detective McBride’s abduction.”
“I’m not telling them anything.”
“You don’t have to,” Farnsworth said. “You
just have to go out there and tell them we’re closing in on a suspect. Keep them from storming the building for another few hours.”
“We’re not even close to a suspect. In fact, we’ve got zilch on this guy.” Frustration gripped her. “Where are we with requesting DNA from the senators Maria and Regina worked for?”
“It’s a no-go,” Farnsworth said. “I went all the way to the mayor on this one, and he said absolutely not—not without probable cause.”
“The probable cause is that the dead women worked for these guys, had regular contact with them and we’re working with a profile of a killer who thinks he isn’t going to get caught, which leads us to believe he’s powerful—or at least caught up in his own presumption of power.”
“But we don’t have anything specific tying any of the senators to the crimes,” Farnsworth reminded her. “Until we do, no DNA.”
“If it turns out to be one of them we’ll have wasted a ton of time while he’s out raping and killing women.”
“You may be right about that, but we’re not conducting a witch hunt on Capitol Hill.”
“We’ll get him with or without the DNA,” Sam said.
“I have no doubt about that,” the chief said. “Shall we meet the press?”
“If I have to,” Sam grumbled as she followed him from the conference room. After a stop to grab her coat in her office, she met him outside the main door of the public safety building where the media had gathered, waiting to take another piece out of her hide. “We meet again,” she said.
Questions flew at her.
“Is Detective McBride’s abduction related to the dead cleaning ladies?”
“Was she raped too?”
“Is it the same guy?”
“How did he manage to grab a cop off the street in the middle of the day?”
“How close are you to a suspect?”
Sam held up her hands to stop the flurry. She proceeded to tell them what she knew about the abduction, minus the detail about the sexual assault. Of course they couldn’t let that go.
“Was she raped?”
“I will not discuss the details of her abduction at any time during this investigation. If Detective McBride chooses to speak publicly about the incident, that’ll be her decision. That is all I’ll say about it—now or ever.”
