by Marie Force
“Ugh. I’m sorry you have to do that.”
“Someone’s gotta do it.”
“Listen, no matter what happens, I’ve got you covered. Okay?”
“That helps, thanks. If he’s convicted, they say I have to do one of those victim impact things.”
“I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“I. Will. Do. It. You don’t have to go anywhere near him. I’ll take care of it.”
Sam’s chest seemed to expand, allowing in more oxygen than she’d been able to handle since she’d been told she’d have to speak at the sentencing. “In case I forget to tell you later, you’re the best husband I ever had.”
He laughed as he always did when she said that. “As we both know, the bar was set exceptionally low.”
“But you... You just take it to a whole other level every single day, and I’m so, so thankful for you.”
“Right back atcha, babe. Don’t worry about a thing. He’s going to be convicted, and then I’ll make sure he’s sent away forever. You’ll never have to see him again.”
“That’d be really nice. How are things over there?”
“Still tense. It’ll be better when you’ve announced the arrest of someone who is not the president.”
Sam laughed at the way he said that. “We’ll be announcing arrests soon and the whole world will be glad to hear it’s not the president.”
“Well, thank goodness for that. Jeez, that’s such a huge relief.”
“I know. Wait until you hear the whole story. You won’t believe it.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing all about it. Let me know what you hear from the courthouse?”
“I will. I’m sorry I didn’t call you when I heard the jury was back. I can’t bear to even think about it.”
“I get it. Believe me.”
“I’ll call as soon as I hear anything.”
“Okay, babe. Hang in there. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Sam closed the phone quietly, taking a deep breath and giving thanks once again for whatever she’d done right in her life that had made her deserving of him.
“He’s the best,” Freddie said.
“He really is.”
“You’ve got a whole lot of support behind you no matter what happens in court. I hope you know that.”
Sam sent him a small smile. “I do. Thanks.”
Freddie’s phone chimed with a text. “Crime Scene found Tara’s phone in one of the boxes in Bryce’s car.”
“That’s awesome. Just another nail in Massey’s coffin.”
They arrived at the Weber’s home a few minutes later and were met at the door by Mr. Weber.
“Come in.” He led them to the kitchen, where Mrs. Weber held a bottle for the baby. Tara’s parents looked exhausted and stressed. The last thing they’d probably expected at this point in their lives was to be raising their grandchild.
Sam’s heart went out to them as she and Freddie sat with them at the table.
“Can I offer you coffee or something else to drink?” Mr. Weber asked.
“Thank you, but we’re fine. And we have news for you. We’ve arrested Bryce and Delany in Tara’s murder.”
They both gasped with shock.
“What?” he asked. “That’s not possible.”
“I’m afraid it is.” Sam took them through the whole thing, from Tara’s breakup with Bryce to his hiring of Delany to her confession and the charges that would soon be filed against them both.
“Delany let him in,” Mr. Weber said, his face blank with shock. “She knew from the start it was him.”
“I’m afraid so.”
Mrs. Weber wept as she tended to the baby, who had big wise eyes and a sprinkling of dark hair. “He didn’t want her, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her either.”
“I believe that’s the case. I also think it’s possible that your daughter had genuine feelings for President Nelson and thus her effort to get his attention by leaking the story of their affair.”
“Which ultimately led to her death,” Mr. Weber said.
“Yes. When Bryce found out she’d had the affair with Nelson and possibly borne him a child, he was outraged.”
“She could’ve had anyone,” Mr. Weber said in disbelief. “Anyone at all. Why in the world would she set her sights on the married president?”
“Only Tara could answer that question, and perhaps in her things you might find something that provides closure.”
Her mother shook her head. “We won’t. She didn’t believe in journals or diaries or anything that could be found and used against her. She didn’t trust easily, and for her to know that Delany had betrayed her would’ve been as bad for her as knowing Bryce was there to harm her.”
“We’re so sorry for her and for you and her son. We’ve taken DNA from Bryce and two other men, and as soon as we know who fathered him, we’ll let you know.”
“I don’t want to know,” Mrs. Weber said. “What difference will it make to us?”
“None, I suppose, but someday it might matter to him.”
“That’s true,” Mr. Weber said.
“We’re also obligated to inform the child’s father, regardless of who that turns out to be.”
“When you do, let him know we want nothing from him but the opportunity to raise the child our daughter loved with all her heart.”
“I’ll pass that along.” Sam gazed at the adorable baby, who would someday have to learn the sordid tale of his mother’s murder. “What’s his name?”
“Jackson Henry,” Mr. Weber said. “He’s named for both his great-grandfathers.”
“He’s beautiful.”
“He looks just like Tara did as a baby,” Mrs. Weber said. “I’m so sad—and mad—that she won’t get to see him grow up. She wanted him so badly.” Her voice faltered and broke on a sob. “I’m sorry.”
Sam reached over to put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “There’s no need to apologize. We will keep you informed as the case proceeds.”
“Please do,” Mr. Weber said. “We’ll be there to represent our daughter.” He got up to walk them out.
Sam handed him her card. “If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
“We appreciate what you’ve already done. Your reputation for being very good at your job is well deserved.”
“In this case, the credit goes to the outstanding team I have working with me. They put the pieces together that led to the arrests.”
“However it happened, we’re thankful.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Sam and Freddie rode back to the city in silence until their phones chimed with a text.
“Convicted on all counts,” Freddie said.
Sam took a deep breath and blinked back tears she refused to give in to.
Thank God.
Justice had been served—this time, for her.
EPILOGUE
“MY NAME IS Nick Cappuano, and I’m the proud husband of Metro Police Lieutenant Sam Holland. I want to tell you about the day that Leonard Stahl took my wife hostage, wrapped her in razor wire and threatened to set her on fire.” He said the words in a matter-of-fact tone, but they still gave him chills even after all this time.
Because he was vice president, the networks were providing live coverage of the sentencing portion of Stahl’s trial. It’d been one week since the conviction, during which Sam had barely spoken of it other than to express relief that it was over.
However, it wouldn’t be over for her—or for them—until Stahl was sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole. That had been Nick’s only goal as he’d prepared his remarks.
In the last week, they’d learned that Congressman Ben Wilton had fathered Tara’s son, and that headline
had pushed the Nelson affair news out of the headlines—for now anyway. Tara’s reputation had taken a beating, but Sam had issued a statement supporting Tara’s right to live her life however she wished to, and to judge her choices when she wasn’t there to defend herself was unfair and disgusting.
Minute by minute, Nick took the jury through the horrifying details of the day Stahl had taken Sam hostage, telling the story from his point of view, starting with the reception he’d been attending in honor of his first day as vice president. “I was with our son Scotty, and we were waiting for Sam to join us at the White House. My chief of staff took a phone call from my former staffer, Christina Billings, who is engaged to Sam’s colleague Sergeant Thomas Gonzales. That’s how we heard that Sam was possibly being held hostage at the Springer home on MacArthur Boulevard. They weren’t a hundred percent sure yet, because Sam had gone there alone, doubling back to close a loop with Mrs. Springer. I had to beg my new Secret Service detail to take me to what might’ve been an active crime scene. Needless to say, that took some doing. If I’d had to run there on foot, I would’ve done it because nothing in this world is more important to me than my wife and our children. Nothing.
“Much later, I read the report of what Sam’s colleagues went through that day, tracking her down, figuring out what was going on and trying to get to her before it was too late. You’ve read the report and heard the testimony so you know that when they burst into that basement they found Sam wrapped in razor wire and Leonard Stahl about to ignite the gasoline he’d spread all around her.
“Imagine, if you will, what that must’ve been like for Sam, to know her body would be ripped to shreds if she so much as moved and a madman was about to set her on fire. I don’t know about you, but to me, that’s the sort of crime that life imprisonment was invented to deter. As it was, her colleagues got to her seconds before he would’ve set her on fire.”
With his composure wavering, Nick took a deep breath, determined to get through this without becoming emotional. He refused to give that to Stahl, who’d probably relish it. He’d also refused to so much as glance in the direction of the disgraced lieutenant. “She was cut all over, from her neck to her feet and everywhere in between. She smelled of gasoline for a week. Do you know what my amazing wife did throughout Stahl’s prolonged attack? She ignored him. She gave him nothing, not even when he wrapped her in razor wire and prepared to set her on fire. She gave him nothing.
“Do you have any idea what kind of courage she displayed that day while at the mercy of a man who hated her simply because her name was Holland? That’s right. He was jealous of her father’s successes and retaliated against Skip by making his daughter’s life a living hell for every minute that she reported to him—and long after she replaced him as the lieutenant in charge of the department’s Homicide Division. And he hated her for her successes. While he was in command of Homicide, the division closed seventy-five percent of its cases. Since Sam has led the division, their success rate is one hundred percent. A short time after she was nearly murdered by Leonard Stahl, she was back at work, fighting for justice on behalf of those who can’t advocate for themselves. Because that’s who she is.
“I’m in awe of her courage and tenacity every day, but on that day, on the day Leonard Stahl held her hostage, planning to murder her in the most gruesome way he could think of, my wife displayed the kind of courage few of us would have under the same circumstances. I’m always proud of her and how hard she works for justice on behalf of the victims of violent crime in our city, but I’ve never been prouder of her than I was the day she didn’t let Leonard Stahl break her. She showed him he was nothing compared to her, he is nothing compared to her. He belongs in a jail cell for the rest of his life so he can never harm anyone again.”
Having said his piece, Nick got up and left the room, aware of his Secret Service detail trailing him as they always did. Eager to get out of there and get home to his wife, he kept moving until he reached the curb where another agent waited with the door to his vehicle open and ready for him.
“Hey, sailor. Give a girl a ride home?”
Samantha.
He slid across the seat to her and took her into his arms, holding on tight to the love of his life. “This is a nice surprise.”
“I figured it was the least I could do after you took one for the team.” She drew back so she could see his face. “And PS, you were awesome.”
“You saw it?”
She pointed to the dark screen on the back of the seat in front of her.
He curled a strand of her hair around his finger. “I thought you weren’t going to watch.”
“My hot, sexy husband was making a rather public declaration of how much he loves me. I couldn’t bear to miss it. In fact, watching you just now sort of made the entire ordeal worthwhile.”
“That can’t possibly be true.”
“You made it better. You make everything better.”
“Thanks for surviving that day. I really appreciate it.”
She shrugged. “I do what I can for the people.” Curling her hand around his neck, she brought him in close enough to kiss. “Thank you for what you did today.”
“I’d say it was a pleasure, but...”
“I love you madly.”
“I love you more madly.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
Smiling, he kissed her.
“Guess what else?”
He nuzzled her neck. “What’s that?”
“The mayor was back to talking about parking and garbage issues today, which means she’s not talking about how Joe Farnsworth needs to go. Instead, she’s focused on helping him choose a new deputy chief.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“Yeah. I just hope we can keep a lid on this situation with Gonzo. The last thing he or the chief need is for that to blow up into something.”
“If anyone can protect them both, babe, it’s you.”
“I hope so.” Sam smoothed the hair back from his forehead. “Did I tell you I took the whole day off?”
“That’s funny because I did too.”
“Does that mean we’ve got hours and hours and hours to kill before our kids come home from school?”
“It does.” She ran a finger down the length of his navy blue tie. “You wanna hook up?”
“Yes, please.”
With her lips close to his ear, she said, “Tell Brant to take us home.”
* * *
Keep reading for a bonus epilogue...
BONUS EPILOGUE
THEY’D BILLED IT as a birthday party, but it was much more than that.
Shelby Faircloth stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, examining the blush gown that shimmered in the palest shade of pink when she moved. She smiled, pleased with the presence of her favorite color on the most important day of her life—a day she’d once thought would never happen.
She placed a hand over her belly, where she harbored another secret—the baby she and Avery would welcome in seven months.
Her heart was full to overflowing. She had everything she’d ever dreamed of, and today, on her forty-fourth birthday, she’d marry the love of her life.
Shelby’s sister Ginger came into the room, her eyes bright with excitement. She carried three bouquets of flowers, one with white roses, gardenias and hydrangeas for Shelby, and two with colorful blooms for Ginger and their other sister, Monica. They were the only other two who knew what today was about.
Avery planned to ask his brother Josh to be his best man—at the last minute.
It was all so exciting. After a career planning other people’s weddings, the last thing she wanted for herself was an elaborate, over-the-top production that would’ve taken time she didn’t have to plan. A small, intimate gathering at home was her idea of the perfect way to make things official b
etween them.
They’d traveled a winding, difficult route to get to this day, and with the hard times now far behind them, she looked forward to everything they’d have together.
Ginger handed Shelby her bouquet that was held together with pink ribbon and fussed over Shelby’s dress until she was satisfied that everything was where it belonged. As the oldest of the three, Ginger had always mothered Shelby and Monica, and they let her because Ginger loved them so much.
“You’re stunning. The dress is perfect. The man is perfect. Everyone is here and looking for the birthday girl. Are you ready?”
“I just need to get Noah up from his nap, and then I will be.” The festivities had been planned around his nap time.
“I’ll get him.”
“He’ll need to be changed.”
Ginger laughed. “Yes, I know.” She had her own kids, who were now nearly grown, but she hadn’t forgotten the basics.
“Will you tell Dad to come up?”
“Yep. He’s gonna cry.”
“I know.”
“Don’t mess up your makeup.”
“I won’t.”
God forbid, Shelby thought. They’d been taught from an early age to always be presentable and put together. Today, she wanted to be beautiful for the man who’d changed her life so completely. By the time she met him, she’d given up on ever finding her Mr. Right, and then there he was, so beautifully handsome he took her breath away and when he spoke to her in that South Carolinian accent, well... He could have just about anything he wanted.
A knock sounded on the door before her dad, Davis, walked in. “Ginger said you wanted to see me.”
Shelby turned to him, and he stopped dead in his tracks.
His face softened into a sweet smile. “What’re you up to, Shelby Lynne?”
“It seems I’m getting married on my birthday, and I wondered if you might be willing to give away one more daughter.”
He placed his hand over his heart. “You sure do know how to take your daddy’s breath away.”
“Is that a yes?”
Davis closed the distance between them, placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “It’d be my honor, honey.”