The Scotland Yard Exchange Series

by Stephanie Queen

  Then boom. She practically knocked him over and that would have been damned embarrassing.

  “What’s going on?” Sarah asked in a panicked voice.

  “What’s wrong with her?” His assistant DA sounded alarmed.

  “Put her on the bed,” the doctor who’d just entered the room said.

  “Out of my way, boys and girls.” Peter swung her up into his arms once he recovered his balance, literally and figuratively, and put her on the empty bed next to Sarah’s. He glanced at Val, who was silent and as white as the sheets.

  “She’ll be okay, Val. Too much stress and not enough sleep.” He smiled at her, but he knew they were thinking the same thing. This was not like their Madeline Grace. He may be called the Rock, but she’d always been pretty damn solid herself. He stepped aside for the doctor and hoped no one noticed the sudden beads of sweat that popped out on his forehead. Too soon to be alarmed.

  “No, no you don’t understand. Normally she could handle any stress you could throw at her and I never remember her getting tired, but…” Val stopped.

  The doctor looked up from the wrist he was holding while he took Mad’s pulse. “But what? Has this happened before? Is she experiencing any other symptoms?” the doctor asked.

  All the eyes in the room were on Val, and there were quite a few eyes now with the two policemen and his assistant DA, who seemed to have forgotten all about Sarah. The attention made Val look like a cornered animal and she took a step back and clammed up. Peter needed desperately for her to talk. He could feel himself losing what was left of his cool because he wanted to shake it out of her right now.

  “What other symptoms?” he asked her. He took a deep breath. She remained mute. He stepped to her and touched her arm.

  “It’s okay, Val. She’s been under enormous stress for a while. What else have you noticed?”

  The woman actually looked at him with sympathy. Before he had a chance to be more than taken aback, Sarah spoke up.

  “If you don’t tell them, I will.”

  “We don’t know for sure,” Val said. All their eyes ping-ponged between the two women.

  “You don’t know what for sure?” He couldn’t stand it. Everyone in the room looked back at Sarah. Then the nurse pushed a cart filled with bottles, tubes and needles toward the bed, and the doctor patted Mad’s face. The doctor was apparently the only person in the room not caught in the tide of tension. Mad opened her eyes. Peter released his breath. Now he was mute too.

  “Hello. I’m going to take your blood pressure now. Let me help you sit up. How do you feel?” the doctor asked.

  Mad’s glance took them all in. “You mean besides confused—and a little foolish?” She reached for Peter with her eyes. She needed a lifesaver. He gave it to her.

  “Okay. Let them have some privacy.” Peter started shoving people back.

  “Just a minute,” the doctor said. He looked at Val. “You were about to tell us something.” He continued to look at her in her silence. “It’s important for us to have all the information we can to help determine which tests to give her and avoid any unnecessary procedures. Can you help me out?”

  Val looked over at Sarah. Peter felt dread mix with his desperation to know that Mad was all right. Madeline looked puzzled and still disoriented.

  “I can help you, doctor,” Sarah said. They all looked at her.

  “Please do.”

  “Just give her a pregnancy test.”

  Chapter 24

  They all gasped and turned from Sarah to Madeline and then to him, where the stares stayed. Peter watched Madeline. She still looked confused. And desperate. Strangely enough, he was prepared this time. It was as if the Fordham Hall scene had been his inoculation.

  “I suppose you’re all waiting for me to drop to the floor in shock?” His breathing held steady and he mentally commanded his blood to continue circulating to his brain. He was contemplating what he could possibly say next to the group when Sarah came to the rescue. That woman was starting to grow on him.

  “If you guys are going to arrest me, you may as well get on with it.” She sat up straighter.

  The assistant DA snapped to and moved forward with his blue uniforms in tow.

  Peter continued to stare at Mad. She stared at her hands while the doctor took her right arm and prepped it for a blood sample with a swab of alcohol. They both watched.

  Peter moved closer. He didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say to her. He managed to convince himself to hold all impulses in check until there was official confirmation. That was his well-schooled brain talking. The rest of him wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss every square inch of her and…

  He had to stop. She hadn’t met his eyes yet. She turned her head away when the doc stuck the needle in her vein, and he watched the blood fill the small tube in seconds.

  “Everyone is going to have to leave now,” the doctor said.

  “Sarah Lisky, you’re under arrest for blackmail,” one of the policemen began.

  The room buzzed to life around them then. He watched Mad’s head snap up to look at him in panic. They needed to talk.

  “I’ll wait outside but I won’t go anywhere.” It was the best he could do. The doc nodded at him. So did the assistant DA.

  “We’ll leave the uniforms outside the door. Lisky will be released into their custody later today.” The assistant DA said it to him and not Sarah. Peter looked back at the woman. Sarah’s sullen look was back in place.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have an attorney by then,” she said.

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t worried.” It was all he managed to say over his shoulder as the nurse ushered the crowd out of the room with drill-sergeant proficiency.

  “Peter?” Mad’s voice turned him around.

  He stopped at the door and looked at her. “I’ll be right here,” he said. There was no way in hell she would be getting rid of him a second time. The thought came upon him and his heart pounded fast all of a sudden. “Mad, don’t worry. It’ll all work out.”

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t worried,” she said with a wan smile.

  The last thing he saw before the nails-for-breakfast nurse shut the door was Mad’s doe-like expression relax into repose as she closed her eyes. She looked brave.

  “Hey?” Rick showed up as they all stood out in the hall.

  “What?” Peter said back.

  “Snap to.”

  It was the last thing he wanted to do. He wasn’t surprised to see Rick had arrived at the hospital. After all, this was where all the action was.

  “Fine, but I’ll be doing all my snapping to right here outside this room.” He meant it, and judging by the looks on the faces of everyone around him, they believed him. Not even the nurse dared to argue.

  “The rabbit died,” the doctor said.

  “I thought they did away with that quaint phrase eons ago,” Sarah said.

  “Geesh,” was all Madeline could think to say. She thought she’d been mortified before, but it all hit her now, and this took the cake.

  The doctor stood over her at the bedside with his arms crossed. “I’ll leave you alone for some time to think and rest. Then after a few more tests check out, you should be ready for discharge in the morning. But you have to promise to keep resting.” She looked up at him and nodded her head. He left. She was alone in the room with Sarah.

  “Guess old St. Cyr called it right after all,” Sarah said.

  Mad looked over at her friend, who hadn’t lost her form.

  “Thanks. What a unique form of congratulations,” Madeline said.

  “By my calculations, you lied to St. Cyr when he asked if you were pregnant. I find that ironic.” Sarah smiled, unusual in itself, but there was no room in Mad’s mind to enjoy it.

  “Forget the lie to St. Cyr. How the hell do I explain the lie to myself?” What had she been thinking?

  Sarah laughed out loud. “That’s no mystery. You subconsciously wanted his baby all along. Ever
since you lost the chance six years ago.”

  “Subconsciously?” Madeline hoped to God it wasn’t her subconscious.

  “Sure.” Sarah sounded resigned.

  “I’m afraid my conscious mind doesn’t buy into that.” But as she thought about it, there was very little else to explain the ridiculous lapse of caution that led to her current situation. And she couldn’t in good conscience blame it on Peter. Her mind had cleared somewhat from its earlier fuzzy state, but she was starting to feel overwhelmed as if her emotions were short-circuiting her brain.

  “If I can embrace the concept, you can,” Sarah said.

  Mad didn’t have a chance to digest that comment, let alone respond. The doctor returned with a team of assistants. They whisked her away for the promised tests. That was her cue to close her eyes to try and think. Or maybe rest.

  After the Testing

  Peter came back in her room. Rick was still in the hall, loudly waiting for his chance to drag him out of there. Sarah’s bed was empty.

  “We need time to assimilate it all.” Mad had finished telling him the rabbit story.

  “I’m done assimilating,” Peter said.

  “You’re done forgiving me?” Mad asked.

  He gave her his silent inscrutable look. That question slowed him down. What the heck was she doing slowing him down, when that was the last thing she really wanted to do? She didn’t know.

  Yes, she did. She wanted it to stick this time. If she slowed him down, maybe they would last longer.

  Oh, heck. That was some theory, and this was her and Peter.

  “That’s what I thought. I’ll give you some time to get over your guilty conscience, or maybe your cold feet. You obviously could use more time to assimilate,” Peter said.

  “We need time to plan too. Peter, you know I love you.”

  “That was never our problem, sweetheart.” He said that before he walked out the door.

  “Damn!” She wished she could make herself get up and chase after him and throw herself into his arms.

  “Damn.” She said it out loud again, and this time Val walked in with her eyebrows raised.

  “I don’t know what’s with all this sudden confusion,” Val said and sat on her bed.

  “I think he wants to get married.”

  “What a surprise.” Val grinned. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Forever is a long time, and it has to last this time for the baby.” She felt silly saying it. Was she not up to the task of marriage and family?

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “He’s the father of your baby, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, but…if I marry him, he’ll always want to be in charge.”

  “What a surprise. If you trust him completely, it won’t be a problem.”

  Madeline was about to dismiss the comment as a flip remark from Val, but she took a good look at her friend. Val looked serious. They stared at each other. She had to get over the feeling that marrying PJD was like giving up on her lifetime of ambitions.

  “No one is ever really in charge unless the other person is willing to let them be. Marriage works best when both partners are willing to concede. If you ask me, that’s where you and Peter are at now.”

  “You could be right, Val. When did you get to be so wise?”

  “You must be rubbing off on me.”

  Jon walked into the room.

  “They say after a night’s rest you can go home. You want to go to Marblehead or the hotel?”

  “I hate to look like I’m conceding—the campaign I mean—when I’m just resting.” She winked at Val. “But I have to go to Marblehead to get rest. So that’s what I’ll do. It’s too important.” Mad patted her stomach. She felt a thrill.

  “PJD would approve. Not that you need his approval,” Val said.

  For some reason, the thought of pleasing Peter gave her another thrill.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back to HQ before election night.”

  “I wasn’t worried.” Jon and Val spoke at the same time.

  “We’ll be riding it out at the Government Center storefront with Jon and the staffers on election night,” Val said.

  “I’ll be there,” Mad assured them.

  “I’ll be in jail.” Sarah stood in the doorway. Two uniforms were standing there with her. The doctor was holding her release papers. She was ready to go for her hearing. Mad took in a big breath and commanded herself to exhale slowly. Relaxation was turning out to be a tall order.

  Chapter 25

  After the Mad Concession Speech

  Glad to escape the storefront campaign office in Government Center and the glaring heat of the TV cameras, Mad pushed into the hotel room behind her friends and remembered this would be their last night together as a team. If she didn’t cut it out, the constant waves of “last times” were going to drown her. But she wouldn’t mind if that was her last concession speech for a long time. Next time she would win.

  “I still can’t believe you came so close to second place as an independent candidate—you were practically tied.” Dennis sounded incredulous. She felt that jolt of thrill at having accomplished so much against such odds.

  “Wait until the next race,” she said, but she didn’t know when that would be. There was the baby before any more racing. She felt again a new, but rapidly becoming familiar, wave of panic-slash-excitement. She told herself not to worry about the prospect of the unknown. She was looking forward to motherhood—to Peter’s baby—far too much. For far too long, if she dared to admit it.

  Of course she would run for office again, but she’d choose her spot carefully and this time she’d have Peter on her side. This thought gave her a chill of excitement. She almost couldn’t wait, but she had a lot to do first, like have a baby. And get married—if Peter would work up the nerve to officially ask her.

  Putting those thoughts aside, she looked at each one of her team members—no, political family members—as they looked back at her, reading each other’s thoughts. They’d do it again for the right reasons, for the same reasons they’d all done it this time. Because someone outside the game had to do it. And she had a platform that she wasn’t about to let go to waste.

  “We’ll have to wait till Sarah gets out of jail,” Dennis said with a smirk.

  “Clever.” Mad winked. He was including himself now, and she hoped she could hold him to it when the time came.

  “She’s not staying in jail for long.” Val sounded only half convinced.

  “Either way, she’s on the team. It’ll give new meaning to the words ‘campaign controversy.’” Mad was only half joking. She sat in her assigned seat in the center of the group. The one they’d all saved for her. For the last time. They were all convinced that there would be a merger between her team and PJD’s team.

  And they were all babying her more than ever because of the baby. But no one talked about the baby today.

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m still working.” Dennis flicked on the TV.

  “Go for it, Clever,” Jon said.

  “Got to watch the other guy win and then do the analysis and report about why our guy didn’t win. Or at least attempt to explain how we finished so close the way we did.”

  “With a flourish,” Val said.

  “That analysis ought to take a PhD. Better let Mad handle it,” Morty said.

  “Okay, Professor, I know where it went wrong, but tell me where it all went right,” Clever said.

  “The day PJD entered the race.” Mad figured that explained it on both counts.

  “You’re not saying we should have quit?” Jonathan asked.

  “No. I’m saying he should have.” Mad smiled. Even if she wanted to take credit for this wild ride, she still wasn’t sure of where she was with Peter. Didn’t know yet where they’d end up. Everyone else, of course, was very sure.

  “Amateurs, all of you. You can’t blame your loss on your opponent,” Dennis said.
/>   “I’m not.” She sighed. “I’m blaming it on my lover.”

  They all stopped and stared at her. She smiled. There were several silent and tense beats of no one having a clue what to say. She was almost going to rescue them.

  “Now that is an entirely different matter. And you do have a point,” Clever made his final concession to her.

  “Time to fold our tents. See you guys in the morning. When we check out.” She got up and went into her bedroom, leaving them with a wave. This time she didn’t look at their faces too closely. They’d all understand, she figured, as they sat and watched PJD make his victory speech on TV.

  After the Victory

  It seemed to Peter that the only guy who was really happy was Marcus Thompson. The rest of them trooped through the front door behind him and into his study as if they were going in front of a firing squad.

  “What’s eating you, Rick?” Peter poured himself a drink from the seemingly endless and well-used supply of bourbon. He’d have to give his housekeeper a raise for keeping them in spirits. Then he’d have to tell her to cut him off. It was getting to be a bad habit.

  “Nothing. Why do you ask? I’m thrilled. We won, didn’t we?” Rick was nothing short of belligerent.

  Peter raised his brows at his friend’s scowl. “They’re not throwing Theresa in jail. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You think I’m worried about Theresa?” Rick stood up as if to challenge him, and it was too comical and too long a day. Peter laughed out loud. So did Bill and Bob. Marcus shook his head.

  “Where’s the judge? He’d be on my side here,” Rick said.

  “Don’t worry, Rick. What side?”

  “You’re going to marry Madeline and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Peter spit out the mouthful of bourbon he’d been about to swallow. That was the last thing he expected from Rick. The last thing he expected to discuss here now. Everyone looked at him and then at their watches as if it was their secret code for making a quick escape. All at once. They left the room mumbling and then left the house.