by Marie Force
Nick squeezed her hand. “Don’t freak out.”
“Who’s freaking out?”
Laughing, he brought her hand to his lips. “You are.”
“It’s irritating when you act like you know me so well.”
“It’s not an act. I do know you. Better than anyone, and that’s why I know you’re freaking out.”
“There will be lot of people here.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Graham said they expect about a thousand.”
“Come on... Seriously?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And they each paid how much to be here?”
“Ten thousand a head.”
“Jesus. Why are you calm and cool when I’m freaking out?”
“I’m freaking out on the inside.”
“You are not.”
“Yes, I am. I still feel like an imposter, you know? I’m always waiting for John to tap me on the shoulder and tell me the show’s over. He’s back, and he’s got this covered.”
“Nick...” She caressed his face. “You’re not an imposter. All these people are here tonight because of you. They believe in you. I believe in you. And I’m so proud of you. So very, very proud, even if I’m a little freaked out.”
He flashed the grin that made her—and every other woman in the capital region—swoon. “That means a lot to me, babe. Thanks.” Leaning in, he gave her a very careful kiss on her lips and then her forehead. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She gripped his hand. “Don’t let go, okay?”
“Never.”
Their arrival had been timed to occur thirty minutes after the guests arrived, which was why the ballroom and terrace erupted into applause when they walked in hand in hand.
Graham and Laine were waiting right inside the elegant room and greeted them with hugs and concern about Sam’s latest injury.
“You look gorgeous, honey,” Laine whispered in Sam’s ear. “Only you could take a pistol to the face in the morning and turn out in high style in the evening.”
Taken aback by the compliment, Sam hugged Nick’s adopted mother. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”
The whirlwind of greetings included Nick’s deputy chief of staff, Terry O’Connor, and his girlfriend Lindsey McNamara.
“Looking good, Sam,” Lindsey said.
“You too. Wow, look at you.”
The medical examiner wore a pale green strapless gown that perfectly complemented her red hair and green eyes. Standing beside her in a tux, Terry looked relaxed and happy.
“Nice to see you, Sam,” Terry said, kissing her cheek. They’d come a long way from Sam suspecting him of his brother’s murder to being cordial acquaintances, both recognizing their accord was in Nick’s best interest.
“You too, Terry. Nice to see some friendly faces in the mob.”
“Gonzo and Christina are here somewhere,” Lindsey said.
“So I heard.”
Judson Knott and Richard Manning, chair and vice chair of the Virginia Democratic Party, swooped in on Nick. Right behind them was Virginia Governor Mike Zorn and his wife Judy.
Nick released her hand only long enough to shake hands with the other men, and then he reached for her again.
Sam gave his hand a squeeze to show her appreciation.
He didn’t miss a beat in the conversation when he squeezed back, making her smile.
“I thought you guys would never get here!” a young voice said.
As if the governor and party leadership were no one special, Nick turned away from them when he heard Scotty’s voice.
Wearing the suit they’d gotten him for their wedding, the boy beamed at them and moved in for hugs.
“Oh my God!” Nick said. “This is the best surprise ever!”
“So good to see you, buddy,” Sam said, kissing the top of his silky head.
“Is this what you guys were talking about in the car earlier?” Nick asked.
Scotty flashed the grin so much like Nick’s he could’ve been his biological son. It was one of many mannerisms he’d picked up from Nick. “Maybe.”
“I’m so happy you’re here.” Nick hugged Scotty once more. “Thank you for inviting him and for doing all of this,” he said to Graham.
“Our pleasure.” Graham’s pride in Nick shone through his gruff exterior. “Now you and your wife have got some serious mingling to do, young man.”
Sam watched Nick take in the enormous crowd, his gaze circling the room before it came back to her and Scotty, leaving little doubt about where her husband would prefer to spend this evening. “So I see.”
She linked her arm with his, earning a grateful smile from her husband. “Let’s get to work, Senator.”
“We’ll see you in a bit, buddy,” Nick said to Scotty.
“No problem. Mrs. L said we don’t have to leave to go back to Richmond until nine thirty.”
“We’ll work fast so we get plenty of time with you,” Nick assured him.
From behind him, Laine looped her arms around Scotty’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure Scotty finds the ice cream bar.”
Scotty looked up at her. “Is it as good as the ice cream we made at the farm?”
“Nowhere near as good, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
“Awesome,” Scotty said, letting her lead him away.
* * *
After two hours of working the room, Nick could tell that Sam was starting to fade. If his hand ached from all the vigorous shaking, he could only imagine what hers must feel like. Leaning in close to her, he whispered, “Why don’t you take a break, babe?”
“I’m fine.”
Over her shoulder, Nick made eye contact with a tall blonde, who waggled her fingers at him. When he recovered somewhat from the shock, he said, “Oh shit.”
“What?”
“Um, babe...” Before he could prepare his wife, the blonde pounced, engulfing Nick in a tight, perfume-laced hug.
“Nicky! It’s so good to see you! What’s it been? Four or five years?”
Not long enough, Nick wanted to say. “At least four.”
Sam cleared her throat and squeezed his hand.
He glanced down to find her looking amused—and confused. “Patrice, this is my wife, Samantha.”
Before Patrice could pounce on Sam, she stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Seeming disappointed to be denied a hug, Patrice shook Sam’s hand. “You too. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
If the situation hadn’t been so dreadfully uncomfortable, Nick would’ve laughed at his wife’s chilly comment.
“Don’t worry,” Patrice said in what she considered a whisper. Everyone around them had tuned in to some sort of drama unfolding. “It’s been over between me and Nicky for a while. He’s all yours.”
“That’s so good to know,” Sam said.
Nick couldn’t help the snort of laughter that erupted from his chest. Oh, he would hear about this later! “What’re you doing here, Patrice?”
“I came with Bryce, but I wanted to support your campaign. And I was hoping to see you and meet your lovely wife. It’s been far too long. We should all get together sometime.”
Perhaps when pigs flew in hell. “It was nice to see you,” Nick said, seeking an exit strategy, “but we’ve got to keep moving.”
“Don’t be such a stranger, Nicky,” she said with a pout that probably worked on most men. It’d never done it for him. “We had some good times. So nice to finally meet you, Samantha.”
Double shit! He was the only one allowed to call her that. This was going from bad to worse.
“Likewise,” Sam said through gritted teeth. “Graham is looking for you, Nick.”
“Back to work. See you, Patrice.”
“Bye, Nicky.”
As they walked away, Nick said, “Am I going to pay for that later?”
“What do you think?”
&
nbsp; “Oh, I can’t wait.” With his arm around her, he tugged her close and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Go find Scotty and Laine and take a load off for a bit. I can tell you’re running on fumes.”
“I’m afraid Patrice will steal you away if I let you out of my sight, Nicky.”
“No worries there. I’m all yours, babe. Go on ahead. I’ll find you in a bit.”
“If you insist, but I’ll be watching you, Nicky.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sending her off with a smile and a discreet pat on the bum, he watched her work her way through the crowd to the table Laine, Scotty and his guardian, Mrs. Littlefield, had claimed.
“That was quite a show your lovely wife put on this morning,” Governor Zorn said.
“She is so brave,” his wife, Judy, added.
With his eyes still fixed on Sam, Nick said, “Yes, she is.”
“Don’t you worry?” Judy asked sotto voce. “Her job is horribly dangerous.”
“It’s a concern,” Nick said lightly as he finally took his eyes off Sam to focus on the governor and his wife. He wasn’t about to share his deepest fears with people he barely knew.
“Well, you should be very proud of her,” the governor said.
“I am.”
Nick was saved from further discourse about his wife’s job when Graham joined them with Brandon Halliwell in tow. The new chairman of the Democratic National Committee was a few years older than Nick and full of fiery passion for his role.
He extended a hand to Nick. “Great to see you again, Senator.”
“You too, Brandon,” Nick said, shaking the other man’s hand.
“I wonder if I might have a word in a private?”
Nick glanced at Graham, whose eyes danced with barely retrained glee that made Nick smile. Despite retiring from the Senate nearly seven years ago, Graham was still very much in the game and loving every minute of it. “As long as Senator O’Connor can join us,” Nick said. This moment was as much Graham’s as it was his. After all, none of it would be happening without Graham’s support and backing.
“Not a problem,” Halliwell said.
The three men ventured outside to a quiet corner on the patio.
“I take it Senator O’Connor has mentioned our keynote offer,” Halliwell said without preamble.
“He did.”
“And?”
“I’m honored to be asked, and I appreciate the opportunity.”
“I hope you understand that the party is prepared to put our full support behind whatever future aspirations you may have.”
Which, Nick knew, was political speak for: If you want to run for president in four years, we’d be all for it.
“The vice president has indicated he has no interest in running again,” Halliwell continued. “That means we’re in need of an heir apparent. All eyes are on you, Senator, as the great hope of the party.”
Nick could almost feel Graham’s buttons busting as the DNC chair continued to gush.
“How do you feel about that?” Halliwell asked.
“Astounded, to be honest,” Nick said. “You have to understand. Eight months ago, I was sworn in to complete my friend’s term. It was supposed to be a year and out, and now you’re talking about things so far beyond my wildest imagination. It’s somewhat overwhelming, especially since I’ve never won an election in my own right.”
“The outcome of your campaign is all but assured. I wish the same were true for our incumbent president,” Halliwell said with a grimace. “The latest poll numbers show that Arnie Patterson is making inroads into traditionally Democratic strongholds. The guy is determined, ruthlessly ambitious and extremely well funded. He’s a worry. Nelson is vulnerable. He’s been an effective president but hardly the lightning rod we’d hoped he’d be. And then, of course, the mess with Sanborn didn’t help anything.”
Nick still saw red whenever anyone mentioned the man Sam had tangled with while newly pregnant, resulting in the miscarriage they were both still recovering from. But assaulting a police officer was the least of Sanborn’s crimes. The former DNC chairman had murdered two immigrant women in an effort to hide the prostitution ring he and other high-placed government officials had been running for years.
“The party needs you, Senator,” Halliwell said, “and the keynote is only the start of our plans. But before we go any further, I need to know you’re in it all the way.”
As always, Nick wanted to glance over his shoulder, certain he’d find John standing right behind him waiting for Nick to give him his cues.
Graham rested a hand on Nick’s back in a silent show of support and understanding.
“I’ll tell you what,” Nick said. “I’ll do the keynote, and we’ll see what happens in November. After that, we can talk again about next steps.”
“Fair enough,” Halliwell said, shaking hands with Nick and Graham. “If there’s anything I can do for you between now and then, my door’s always open.”
“I appreciate the support.”
After Halliwell walked away, Nick turned to Graham. “Is this for real?”
“You bet your ass it is.”
“How can they be grooming me for the top spot when I haven’t even won an election yet?”
“You have everything they want. You’re young, movie-star handsome, personable, charismatic, effective, without a scandal in sight and madly in love with your gorgeous new wife, who’s a hero in her own right. You’re the perfect candidate. They’d be fools not to be grooming you for big things.”
“Movie-star handsome, huh?” Nick made a joke to hide the surge of emotion he’d experienced as Graham ticked off the compliments.
Graham barked out a laugh. “Oh, shut up. As if I’m telling you something your wife doesn’t tell you every day.”
“I don’t like it when she says it, either.”
Smiling, Graham rested his hands on Nick’s shoulders and looked up at him with fatherly pride all over his weathered face. “This was a big moment, son. I hope you get that. You’ve been anointed.” Graham punctuated his words by squeezing Nick’s shoulders.
“I’m not sure I deserve it, but I do get it.”
“I have something I want to say to you.”
“Okay.” Nick’s heart hammered, and his breathing slowed as he waited to hear what Graham had to say.
Graham took a long moment to gather his thoughts. “I loved my son.”
“I know that. He knew it too.”
“I really hope so.” Graham took a fortifying breath and looked up at Nick. “I loved him, but I also recognized his limitations. He ran for the Senate because I wanted him to, not because he wanted to. Terry was the one who wanted it, not John.” Terry had ruined his chances with a DUI charge weeks before he was due to announce a candidacy long in the making.
“John grew into the job,” Nick said, compelled to defend his late friend.
“That he did, and he made me proud every single day that he served the people of Virginia, but you... You have the fire in your belly that John didn’t have. I know you often think you’re living out what should’ve been his, but I don’t think Halliwell ever would’ve had that conversation with John.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“’Course I don’t. We’ll never know for sure, but I feel pretty confident saying it never would’ve happened for John, mostly because he wouldn’t have wanted it. So I want you to embrace every single bit of this as yours and yours alone. You with me, Senator?”
Jesus Christ, the old guy was going to have him weeping in about two seconds if Nick didn’t put a stop to this immediately. “Graham, really...”
“This is your moment, Nick,” he said gruffly. “No one else’s. Not mine. And not John’s. It’s yours. There’s absolutely no question in my mind that you could go all the way to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in four short years. If that’s what you want, there’s nothing I won’t do to make sure you get it.”
“I’m humbled, as always,
by your faith in me. Anything I have today is because of you.”
“Aw, hell. I could argue that one ’til the cows come home, but enough with the sappy shit. Let’s go find our wives. I’m in the mood to celebrate.”
Relieved that he’d gotten through the conversation without losing his composure, Nick said, “Sounds good to me.”
* * *
Avery Hill stood outside the interrogation room at HQ and studied the woman inside. She was heavyset, mid-to late-sixties, with gray hair and dark brown skin. Her arms were crossed over an ample bosom in a defiant pose that set his nerves on edge. He’d been more optimistic about extracting information from her when she’d been terrified. Defiant wasn’t good.
Detective Arnold joined him.
“Are you ready?” he asked the young detective.
“Whenever you are.”
“Follow my lead.”
“Yes, sir.”
They stepped into the room, and Bertha Ray greeted them with a piercing glare. “I want a lawyer.”
Ugh, Hill thought. That’s that. “I’d be happy to call your attorney for you, Mrs. Ray, but if you cooperate with our investigation, you shouldn’t need one.” Every fiber of Hill’s being told him this woman had nothing to do with Victoria Kavanaugh’s murder or the kidnapping of her daughter.
“I want one anyway.” Despite the defiant tone, Hill noted that her hands were shaking and her face was streaked with drying tears.
“Who would you like for us to call?”
“How should I know? I’ve never needed a lawyer before! Don’t you have to provide one for me if I can’t afford one of my own?” She gestured to Arnold. “That’s what he said when he dragged me away from my home in handcuffs.”
“We’ll be happy to call the public defender for you,” Hill said. “However, you should know that we might not be able to get anyone here at this hour. You’ll most likely have to spend the night in jail before we can sort this out.”
At that news, she appeared to crumble a bit. “I want to go home.”
“We’ll call the public defender’s office and see what we can do to get an attorney here.” He nodded for Arnold to precede him out the door.
“Wait.”
Hill turned. “Yes?”
“What do you want to know?” she asked warily.