by Linda Howard
“We have a proposition for you, Nick,” Judson said.
Nick glanced at Graham and then at Sam. “What’s that?”
“We’d like you to finish out John’s term,” Graham said.
Nick almost choked on the bourbon. “What? Me?”
Under the table, Sam grasped his arm.
“Yes, you,” Judson said.
“But you have any number of people better suited. What about Cooper?”
“His wife was recently diagnosed with stage three breast cancer. He’ll be announcing his resignation from the legislature the day after tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nick said sincerely. “How about Main?”
“He’s been carrying on with his son’s first grade teacher for years, and his wife filed for divorce yesterday. It’ll be hitting the papers any day now.”
“The party’s having some troubles, Nick,” Manning drawled. “We need someone of your caliber to step in and get us through to next year’s election. We’re hoping Cooper’s wife will have recovered enough by then to free him up to run.”
Nick couldn’t believe they were serious. He wasn’t the guy. He was the guy behind the guy. He named ten other Virginia Democrats he considered better suited to the job and was treated to a variety of disqualifying details about their personal lives that he could’ve lived without knowing. She’s expecting twins, he’s gay and in the closet—wants to stay there, he’s got financial problems, she’s caregiver to a mother with Alzheimer’s. It went on and on.
“Listen, you guys,” Nick said when he had run out of names to float. “I appreciate you thinking of me…”
“You struck a chord this morning,” Judson said. “With your talk of humble beginnings. The data is highly favorable—”
“You’ve polled on me?” Nick asked, incredulous. “Already?”
“Of course we have.” Richard seemed insulted that Nick even had to ask. “Most of Virginia and the rest of official Washington watched the funeral. You made quite an impression.” Richard directed a charming smile at Sam. “Between that and your very public relationship with the Sergeant—”
“Don’t bring her into this,” Nick snapped. “She’s off limits.”
Graham rested his forearms on the table and leaned in to address Nick. “You know how this works. Nothing’s off limits, especially your personal life. But the party is prepared to throw its support behind you if you want it. By this time tomorrow you can be a United States senator. All you have to do is tell us you want it, and we’ll make it happen.”
“Your name recognition is off the charts right now,” Richard added. “Factor in youthful vitality, obvious political savvy, a well-known connection to the O’Connors and you’re a very attractive candidate, Nick. Governor Zorn thinks it’s a brilliant idea.”
A United States senator. It boggled his mind. “I don’t know what to say…”
“Say yes,” Judson urged.
“It’s not that simple,” Nick said, thinking of Sam and their fledgling relationship. Could it handle the pressure that would come with a job like this on top of a job like hers? “I need to think about it.”
“For how long?” Judson asked. “The governor is anxious to act.”
“I need a couple of days.”
“Two,” Judson said. “I can give you through Christmas, and then we’ll need to know.”
“Why don’t you want it?” Nick asked, beginning to worry about Sam’s total silence and the sudden pallor gracing her cheeks.
“Hell,” Judson said, “I’m too damned old to keep that kind of schedule. Richard is, too. We want to spend our spare time golfing and hanging out with the grandbabies. We need someone like you to get us through this transition. We’re asking for one year, Nick. Give us that, and for the rest of your life you’ll be known as Senator Cappuano.”
The title sounded so preposterous, it was all Nick could do not to laugh.
Judson and Richard got up to leave. Both shook hands with Graham.
“Sorry again for your loss, Senator,” Judson said.
To Nick, he added, “Let me know what you decide by the twenty-sixth.”
Nick nodded and shook hands with them. When he heard the door click shut behind them, he turned to Graham and Sam.
“What do you think, Nick?” Graham asked.
“I’d like to know what Sam thinks.”
“I, ah, I have no idea what to say.”
He could tell by the wild look in her blue eyes that she was having a silent freak-out and decided to wait until they were alone to address it further with her.
“You seriously think I can do this?” he said to Graham.
“If I had any doubt, we wouldn’t be here.”
Nick studied the other man for a long moment. “This was all your doing, wasn’t it?”
Graham shrugged. “I might’ve suggested that the best man for the job was the one who knew John the best.”
“I didn’t know John as well as I thought I did.”
“You knew him as well as anyone.”
Nick looked over at Sam, wishing he knew what she was thinking. No doubt the offer had shocked her just as much as it had shocked him. Standing, he offered his hand to Graham. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
Graham held Nick’s hand between both of his. “I have nothing but the utmost faith in you, Nick Cappuano from Lowell, Massachusetts. I was so proud of you up there today. You’ve grown into one hell of a man.”
“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
A knock on the door ended the moment between the two men.
CHAPTER 37
“I’ll get it,” Nick said. He strolled to the door, opened it and gasped at the face that greeted him. John’s face. Rendered speechless, Nick could only stare at the young man. He had a wild, unfocused look to him that put Nick on alert.
“I’m Thomas O’Connor. I understand that my, um, grandfather is here?”
Recovering, Nick said, “Yes. Please. Come in.”
As he ushered the young man into the room, Nick experienced the same prickle of fear on the back of his neck that he’d felt once before—the day he walked into John’s apartment and found him dead. Sam, he noticed, had stood up and was watching Thomas’s every move as he approached Graham.
“Who are you?” Thomas asked Nick.
Surprised that Thomas didn’t seem to recognize him or Sam, he said, “I’m Nick Cappuano, your father’s chief of staff, and this is my girlfriend, Sam.” Nick met Sam’s steady gaze with one of his own, using his eyes to implore her to go along with him. Until they knew what Thomas wanted with Graham, he didn’t need to know she was a cop.
“You’ve taken me by surprise,” Graham finally said as he sized up the grandson he hadn’t seen since the day he was born twenty years earlier.
“I imagine I have.”
“I thought we might see you and your mother at your father’s funeral,” Graham said.
“She got tied up in Chicago and couldn’t make it,” Thomas said.
Sam and Nick exchanged glances, and he knew she was picking up the same uneasy vibe.
Thomas turned to them. “You two can take off. I came to see my grandfather.”
“That’s all right,” Nick said, the tingle on his neck intensifying by the minute. “We’ve got nowhere to be.”
Thomas pulled a gun from the inside pocket of his winter coat. Pointing it at Sam and Nick, he said, “Then take a seat and shut up.” He gestured to the sofa.
“Thomas,” Nick said, taking a step toward him, “you don’t want to do this. What difference will it make now?”
The younger man stared at him, his eyes even more wild and unfocused than they were when he first arrived. “Are you serious? What difference will it make? My grandfather ruined my mother’s life. He shipped her off like unwanted garbage to protect his political image.”
Sam rested her hand on Nick’s arm to pull him back. Nodding her head, she signaled for him to take a sea
t with her on the sofa.
Once they were seated, Thomas turned back to Graham. “All you cared about was yourself.”
“That’s not true. I cared about your father, and you, too. I sent money. For years. I made sure you had everything you needed.”
“Everything except my father and my family! You took everything from us. We got him for one lousy weekend a month, and you know what he was doing the rest of the time? Fucking his way through Washington with one stupid bitch after another.”
Watching Thomas gesture erratically with the gun, Nick’s heart slowed to a crawl.
Sam poked his leg to get his attention.
He watched as she raised her pant leg and removed the small clutch piece she had strapped to her calf.
She pressed it into his hand and drew her primary weapon from the shoulder harness she had worn for the funeral, keeping the gun hidden in her suit coat in case Thomas turned to them. Mouthing the word “wait” she used her finger to indicate that he should go right while she went left.
Nick nodded to let her know he understood.
“You know what he told me a couple of weeks ago when I introduced him to my girlfriend? He advised me later that I shouldn’t get ‘tied down’ to one woman. That a man needs to ‘mix it up,’ that ‘variety is the spice of life.’ It was a real touching father-son moment, and it was the first time it ever occurred to me that he’d been unfaithful to my mother. She’d waited her whole life for him. Ever since you banished her, she’s done nothing but wait for him and settle for whatever scraps he tossed our way. And then he comes and tells us he’s running for re-election! He actually expected us to be happy about his big news. He’d promised us one term. One term for you, his beloved father. Then it would be our turn. He lied about everything. Everything!”
“He loved you.”
“No, he loved you! You were the only one he cared about.”
“You killed him,” Graham said in a whisper. “You killed my son.”
“He had it coming! He was a fucking whore! I’ve got the investigator’s report to prove it. You should see what he got done in just two weeks’ time. It was truly revolting.”
“That doesn’t mean he deserved to die,” Graham said. “Natalie didn’t deserve what you did to her, either.”
Thomas moved so quickly, Sam and Nick couldn’t react in time to stop him from pistol-whipping his grandfather.
Graham went down hard, blood spurting from a wound on his forehead.
“Get up!” Thomas shrieked. “Get up and take what’s coming to you like a man!”
“You talk about being a man!” Graham screamed back at him. “But what kind of man rapes and murders women?”
Sam held Nick back, giving him the one-minute sign.
“I made them pay for what they did to my mother. They got exactly what they deserved.”
“You’re a monster,” Graham whispered, the blood loss weakening him.
Thomas aimed the gun at his grandfather’s chest.
Sam gave Nick the thumb’s up.
They rushed Thomas from behind, each of them pushing a gun into the young man’s temples.
“Freeze,” they said in unison.
Sam glowered at Nick. “I’ll take it from here.” She had Thomas disarmed, cuffed and immobilized less than a second later. With her free hand, she tugged her radio off her hip and called for back-up.
“What the fuck?” Thomas screamed, fighting the restraints. “You’re a fucking cop?”
“Surprise,” Nick said, unable to resist a smile as adrenaline zipped though his system. Watching her work never failed to fire him up. “Meet my ‘girlfriend,’ Detective Sergeant Sam Holland, Metro Police Department. You really ought to read a newspaper once in a while.”
“Son of a fucking bitch.”
“You said it, buddy.” Sam tightened her hold on Thomas. “You’re under the arrest for the murders of John O’Connor, Tara Davenport, Natalie Jordan and Noel Jordan. You have the right to remain silent.”
Nick stayed with Graham while Sam dragged Thomas out of the suite to turn him over to Gonzo for transport to HQ. Nick pressed a handkerchief to the wound on Graham’s head.
Tears spilled down the older man’s cheeks. “This is all my fault. I caused this. I forced John to lead a double life.”
“You did what you thought was right at the time. That’s all any of us can ever do.”
“Will you find Laine for me? I need to see her.”
“As soon as the paramedics get here, I’ll get her to the hospital.”
“Call Lucien,” Graham said. “Have him send someone over to represent Thomas.”
Nick stared at the older man. “You can’t be serious.”
“He’s my grandson. What I did to him and his mother drove him to this.” Graham closed his eyes and took a deep, rattling breath. “Make the call.”
Even though he didn’t agree, Nick said, “I’ll take care of it.” He rested his hand on top of Graham’s. “Try not to worry about anything.”
“You’re going to make an outstanding senator.”
“I haven’t said yes yet.”
“You will.” The older man held Nick’s hand until the EMTs arrived and whisked him away.
The moment they left with Graham, Sam returned to the suite.
“Whew,” Nick said. “That was something.”
A cocky grin lit up her gorgeous face. “Just another day at the office.”
“For you, maybe.”
“You did good—for a rookie.”
“Gee, thanks.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his legs still rubbery. “You called Chicago to check on Patricia?”
“They’re on their way to her house as we speak. Thomas had her credit cards in his wallet.”
“I feel sorry for her,” Nick said. “She’s lost them both.”
“The whole situation is too sad, but his lawyer will probably mount an insanity defense.”
“He was going to kill us all, wasn’t he? That’s why he said all the stuff he did in front of us.”
“I suspect that became his plan when we insisted on staying. I just can’t believe I didn’t figure this out sooner. I was so sure it was a love affair gone wrong.”
“Well, it sort of was when you think about it.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I’m just glad we were here when Thomas confronted Graham.” He shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened.”
“It’s probably better if you don’t think about it.”
Nick slipped an arm around her shoulders. “We need to talk about what happened before Thomas showed up.”
“Later.” She hip checked him. “No PDA in front of the colleagues.”
He slapped her on the ass. “Screw that.”
Sam attempted a dirty look but failed to pull it off.
“We make a good team, you know that?” he said.
“As long as you remember who’s in charge.”
Nick took great pleasure in hooking an arm around her and escorting her down the hallway full of hooting cops. Not even the elbow she jammed in his ribs could detract from his euphoria at having her by his side and John’s killer on his way to jail.
In the elevator, she looked up at him, her clear blue eyes full of love. “Thanks for having my back in there.”
Hugging her closer to him, he kissed her cheek and then her lips. “Samantha, I’ll always have your back.”
EPILOGUE
Nick got home from the reading of John’s will just after five on Christmas Eve and went straight to the kitchen to dig out the bottle of whiskey he’d kept on hand for John. He poured himself half a glass and downed it in one long swallow that burned all the way through him. Pouring a second shot, he took it with him to sit in the living room where a seven-foot Christmas tree waited to be decorated. Under the tree were six festively wrapped gifts for Sam.
He hadn’t heard from her all day, and after her refusal to discuss the
Virginia Democrats’ offer when they finally got home late last night, he had good reason to wonder if she would keep her promise to spend this evening with him. She hadn’t even called to tell him that Marquis Johnson had been remanded over to trial—without incident. Nick had to hear about it on the news.
Still hopeful that Sam would keep her promise to spend tonight with him, Nick went into the kitchen to make the dinner he’d shopped for earlier. By nine o’clock the pasta was rubbery, and he had given up on her. Could she really be that freaked out by his job offer? Didn’t she know that if she wasn’t in favor of it, he wouldn’t do it? Disappointment mixed with disbelief. That she would let him down like this, that she would let herself down like this…
He stretched out on the sofa with another shot of whiskey. The empty tree was a stark reminder of how his plans for this evening had failed to materialize. Without Sam, what did it matter? What did anything matter?
He must have dozed off because the ringing doorbell startled him awake an hour later. His heart surged with hope as he got up to answer it. He swung open the door, and there she was.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I almost didn’t.”
Nick stepped back to let her in and took her coat.
“What do I smell?” she asked, surprised. “Did you cook?”
He shrugged. “Nothing special.”
“Did you leave any for me?”
“All of it.”
“You didn’t eat?”
“I was waiting for you.”
Snuggling into his embrace, she said, “I’m sorry. I totally freaked, and I handled this all wrong.”
Nick hugged her close, overcome with relief at having her back in his arms after a day filled with uncertainty. He brushed his lips over hers. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Samantha. Tell me the truth.”
She looked up at him with those blue eyes he loved so much. “I’d be a liability to you. I’m messy and loud and I swear and sometimes I even tell white lies—I don’t mean to, but they sneak out before I can stop them. I’m dyslexic, infertile and my stomach runs my life. And then there’re the lovely people I come in contact with on a daily basis: drug dealers, prostitutes, murderers, rapists. There’s the whole fiasco with the Johnsons—and my ex-husband is headed for prison…”