Mystery: The Sam Prichard Series - Books 1-4

by David Archer

  He nodded again, and then a movement on his other side made him turn his head. Harry stood there, smiling down at him.

  “You done good, son,” the old man said in his southern drawl. “You stopped him, Sam, and you saved the country from what would have been nearly the worst possible disaster that terrorists could ever pull off.”

  Sam tried again to smile, but still couldn't manage it with the tube down his throat. Harry patted his hand. “Just rest, son, you're getting better. You took a bullet into your left lung, and it's a wonder you didn't up and die on the spot, but you didn't. The docs are saying it's a miracle, that the bleeding they found in your lung should've done you in, but I just told 'em they don't know Sam Prichard like I do.” Harry patted his hand again. “That's not to say it hasn't been touch and go,” he said. “You've been in a coma for almost two weeks, and they had to shock you a few times the first day or two. Couple days ago, though, the doc said you were getting stronger, and he took you off the critical list, so your beautiful bride and I have just been waiting for you to wake up, since then.”

  Indie came in with two other people just then, and a doctor stepped up to the side of the bed.

  "Mr. Prichard,” the doctor said, “I'm glad you decided to join us. Give me a couple minutes to look you over, and maybe we can get some of this crap off of you, okay?”

  Sam nodded, and the doctor began poking and prodding and listening, doing all of the things that doctors do. After about ten minutes of such treatment, he smiled at Sam, and told the nurse to remove the tube from his throat.

  “Mr. Prichard, that tube was there to make sure we didn't get too much fluid buildup in your lung, because we had to operate on it rather extensively. There was a lot of damage, but you have one of the most amazing constitutions I've ever seen, because most of the healing is complete, and you don't have nearly as much scarring as I was expecting. What that means is that, even though you literally came within a hair's breadth of death, you're almost certainly going to be fine, now that you've rejoined the living. You'll be pretty sore for a few days, and I'm not gonna let you out of here until I've seen you wide awake for at least a day or so, but I'd say you're on the road to being about as good as new as you were before this.”

  The nurse had gotten the tube out and was removing a couple of IVs. Sam spent most of the doctor's monologue rolling his tongue around his mouth and working his jaws to get the stiffness out of them. He managed a lopsided smile, and said, “Thanks, Doc, I guess.”

  “You're welcome,” he said. “That's what we do here, but from what these folks have told me, it should be all of us saying thanks to you. You just rest up another day, and maybe I'll let you get back to your honeymoon soon.” He winked at Sam. “Yeah, I heard about that.”

  The doctor left, and Indie took hold of Sam's hand again. “Hey,” she said softly as she smiled into his face. She had tear-tracks on both cheeks, and some of them looked like they'd been there a while.

  “Hey,” he answered. “Didn't mean to scare you.”

  She sniffled, and fought back a sob. “It's okay,” she said. “the doctor says you’re gonna be fine, now, and by the time he lets you go, you should be almost back to normal, other than a little soreness, and that's good, cause if I have to go much longer without some cuddling, I'm gonna go crazy.” She leaned down suddenly and kissed him. “Ack,” she said when she came back up for air. “You need mouthwash.”

  “I bet,” Sam said, “but I also need something to drink. Any water around here?”

  Indie showed him a pitcher of ice water, and poured some into a glass for him. She handed it to him and he drank it all, then asked for more. As she was pouring it, he turned to Harry.

  “How's Dickens?” he asked, and Harry smiled.

  “He's doing better than you, and already got to go home, but he said to tell you you’re his new hero. He got one in the shoulder, which was bad, but he wasn't bleeding to death internally, so you get the trophy for worst mission wound this time.”

  Sam nodded. “And Jamal is dead, right?”

  “He is,” Harry said, nodding. “Dickens' shot took out most of the gray matter he had in his skull, and nobody's managed to live through that, yet. Sorry you didn't get to do it yourself.”

  Sam shrugged without thinking, and instantly regretted it. “You can't have everything,” he said painfully, “and revenge isn't all it's cracked up to be, anyway. Danny wouldn't rest any easier if I'd fired the shot that killed him. All he'd care about is that we stopped the bomb and the terrorist plot.”

  Indie was holding his hand again, and Sam turned back to her. “So, Mrs. Prichard,” he said. “I hear there's a new honeymoon package available someplace in a wheat field in Illinois. Want to go? I think we can hide there so no one can try to blow up the world and interrupt us.”

  Indie giggled and smiled. “Anywhere, as long as it's just us. No cell phones, no guns, no terrorists, and no Harry! He gets on your nerves, after a while, trust me!”

  Sam smiled. “I believe it. You guys been here the whole time? And where are we, anyway?”

  Harry smiled. “You're in Valley Hospital Medical Center, Las Vegas. They had to fly you here, Sam, you were all but dead by the time you disarmed the bomb.”

  “And, yeah,” Indie added, “Harry called me when he heard you'd been shot and had George get me to the airport, then we flew out here right away. Both our moms and Kenzie are here, too, in a room down the hall they gave us to rest in. As soon as they know you're awake, they're all gonna want to see you.”

  Sam nodded. “Fine, but tell your mother to leave Beauregard somewhere else. If I never hear of him again, it'll be far too soon.”

  Indie just looked at him. “I heard,” she said. “Jamal had a red eye.”

  “Yeah. I don't know how, but something had happened to him, apparently, and his eye was bright red and bloodshot. Gave me the creeps, and then the little monster actually managed to shoot me! I guess Beauregard's record is still intact, but I hope he never had another message for me!”

  She shrugged. “We can hope. Now, let's forget him, and tell me you love me!”

  Harry smiled and left the room, and Sam looked into his wife's eyes. “Baby,” he said, “I love you with all my heart!”

  “Ditto!” she answered, and leaned down to kiss him again. She didn't complain about his needing mouthwash, this time.

  A little later, after they'd chatted a bit more, Indie went to get Kenzie and their mothers. The older ladies let Kenzie have him first, and Indie helped her get up onto the bed (at Sam's insistence) to give him a hug.

  “I missed you, Daddy,” she said. “You can't get shot no more, okay?”

  Sam grinned at her. “I promise you, sweetheart, I'm going to do my best not to. It hurts!”

  Kenzie nodded solemnly. “I know, Mommy told me! Samson says to tell you hi!”

  “Well, you tell Samson I said hi right back, okay? I can't wait to see him. Where's he at while you're here?”

  Kenzie smiled. “George is taking care of him. He likes kitty cats.”

  “Well, we'll have to thank George when we see him, too, then, won't we?”

  Kenzie spent a few minutes letting him know she was happy, now that he was awake again, and then she got down. Sam's mother came up to the bed and looked down at him.

  “Samuel,” she said, “I think you need to think about a new line of work. You've got a family now, and this running all over the country trying to get yourself killed has simply got to stop!”

  Sam laughed, but it hurt his ribs. “Trust me, Mom, that was not the plan, at all! I had no intention of getting shot, it just sorta happened that way.”

  “Well, it's too much for an old woman like me, getting a call saying you're laying in a stretcher in a helicopter, and they don’t know if you’re gonna make it or not! You were in surgery for seven hours, Sam—seven hours! We flew in and you were still in surgery, and then your heart stopped a few times, and they thought you were gonna die, and oh! I
just can't take this, you've got to stop! I told Harry if he ever gets you involved with terrorists again, I'm going to wring his little scrawny neck!”

  “Hey, it wasn't Harry's fault, Mom,” Sam said, “don't blame him. I knew what I was getting into when I took the mission. Someone had to do it, and this time, it was me.”

  “I'll blame whoever I darn well want to,” she said. “Harry is a nice man, but I'm not going to put up with him dragging you into National Security problems anymore, and that's just that!”

  Sam laughed again, but it still hurt, so he cut it short. “Okay, you win,” he said. “Next time he wants me to save the world, I'll tell him no.”

  Grace smiled at him. “Like heck you will. But I have to try to protect my baby boy, don't I? That's what mothers are for!”

  Kim came up on the other side of the bed and smiled at him, too. “She's been a wreck, Sam, but she'll be okay now that she knows you're going to be. And we're all so proud of you.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked at Sam again, but he pointed a finger at her.

  “Not one word about Beauregard, Kim, I mean it! Not now, not ever! No more!”

  Kim looked stricken. “But...”

  “Nothing! Not a word!”

  She relaxed and smiled. “Okay,” she said, and Sam sighed. “He says not to bother you with him, for now...”

  “Out!” Sam said, pointing to the door.

  The doctor pronounced Sam fit to go home the next afternoon, and Harry arranged for a plane. Commercial flights were back to normal, and in fact, the whole country thought the incident had all been a hoax, but Harry didn't want Sam to have to deal with security measures. A Gulfstream like the one that brought them back from Hawaii was waiting at the airport when they arrived, and Sam managed to walk up the stairs on his own, with Indie beside him in case he needed any help. An agent from HS had been assigned to drive the Ridgeline back to Denver for them, so they'd have it back by the next day.

  George was waiting for them at Denver with Samson in his carrier, and drove them all home, making his last stop at Sam and Indie's house, where the cat spent an hour making sure no one had bothered with it while they were gone. By the time he was satisfied, Sam was in his favorite spot on the couch, with Indie curled up beside him and Kenzie playing happily in the floor. Except for his soreness, Sam could almost convince himself the whole episode never happened, but he knew it had.

  He also knew that he could never again pick up a phone and call Danny Jacobs, and that was the part of it all that hurt the most. Sam had thought he was a good judge of character, and had trusted Jamal. But that trust had only led to the situation getting worse. No one had said that it had gotten Danny killed, but Sam knew it, and there was no way he could just let it go. He'd told Indie he wanted to go the next day and visit Danny's grave, to make his apologies, and she'd understood.

  The band came by to visit that evening. Indie had called and told them that Sam had been wounded while helping out on the “bomb scare,” and they'd all wanted to pay their condolences over the loss of his friend. The official story of Danny's death was that he'd been killed by a drug suspect, who was still at large, and it was all Sam could do not to tell them the truth.

  Harry came back over just after the band left. Indie answered the door and let him in, but warned him that if he'd come to ask Sam to take on another case, he needed to think again. Harry smiled.

  “No, dear, nothing like that. I just dug through some of our local resources and came up with something I thought you kids could use. I know it'll be a few days yet before you can get too, um, rambunctious, but this might come in handy soon.” He held out an envelope and Indie took it and opened it.

  Inside were two tickets to a resort on Maui and ten thousand dollars in cash. Sam grinned when Indie showed him, and said, “We'll be ready in a few days. Maui might be less of a problem than Honolulu turned out to be, anyway.”

  “That's sort of how I saw it, too,” Harry said with a smile. “And the cash is just spending money, a little reimbursement of the money you lost on the last honeymoon. I'll see what I can do about a proper reward when you get back.”

  Sam shook his head. “No reward is needed, Harry. I didn't do this for money, I did it because it had to be done.”

  Harry just smiled, kissed Indie on the cheek, gave a sleepy Kenzie a hug and left.

  “That old man likes you,” Indie said.

  “Yeah, I get that feeling, too. On the other hand, every time I get involved with him, somebody ends up trying to kill me. Maybe I should just stay home more, and chase you around the house.”

  “Hey, now, that's an idea I can really get into!” she said, and Sam pulled her down for a long kiss.

  “So, Mr. Prichard,” Indie said, “how are you really feeling? I'm about ready to get to bed, and I have had all of sleeping by myself that I care to do. Feel like some serious cuddling?”

  Sam grinned. “Baby,” he said, “you won't believe just how serious I can get about that! And just so you know, I may be a little sore, but I will never be too sore to make love to you!”

  “Sam!” Indie said, “Kenzie's right there!”

  “And I was whispering in your ear, babe, not shouting it from the rooftop! Calm down! And come here!”

  Indie kissed him, and whispered, “Let me get her to bed, and then I am all yours, buster!”

  She told Kenzie it was bed time, and the little girl gathered up Samson and walked dutifully up the stairs to her room. Sam got up and made his way up there, as well, and sat on the edge of her bed to tell her a story about Hoppy the Super Bunny—he had to make it up as he went along—which she loved, and then they kissed her goodnight and went down to their own room.

  Sam got into bed while Indie went to the bathroom, and after a few minutes, he called out softly, “Honey, you okay in there?”

  She didn't answer, but the door opened, and a bare leg came around it. It was followed a moment later by an arm, and then the door swung aside to reveal Indie in a floor length negligee that was split perfectly down the middle.

  “I didn't get to show you this one,” she said, her voice thick with excitement, and Sam only smiled at her as she walked sultrily toward him.

  “Better late than never,” he said.

  BOOK IV

  1

  Indie rose from bed a little after six, as she usually did, kissed Sam on the lips as he slept and went into the bathroom to shower. When she came out a half hour later and dressed, she kissed him again, but this time she made sure he didn't sleep through it.

  “Hey, Sleepyhead,” she said. “The honeymoon's over, and it's time to get up and go back to real life. You've got rehearsal this afternoon, remember?”

  “You go to rehearsal for me,” Sam mumbled, “and I'll stay here and take care of Kenzie.”

  Her eyes went wide. “As tempting as that sounds, I can't sing like you can, so get your butt outta that bed, Mister! Come on, get up. I'm making eggs and sausage and hash browns this morning!” She said that last in a singsong voice, and Sam finally rolled over onto his back.

  “Fine,” he said. “For hash browns, I'll get up.” He went through his morning stretching ritual, working the cramps out of his bad leg, and by the time he actually got up and went to the shower, Indie was cracking eggs into a bowl, and Kenzie was on a stool beside her, ready to whisk them all together.

  Fifteen minutes later, Sam was in his chair and Kenzie bowed her head to say grace over their breakfast. When she had done so, Sam and Indie said, “Amen!” with her, and then it was time for the day to begin.

  “Kenzie, stop tossing eggs under the table to Samson,” Indie said, “he eats kitty food, not people food!”

  “Sorry, Mommy,” Kenzie said, but the little grin she was trying to hide told Sam that she wasn't really all that sorry. The cat was her pet and her responsibility, and she took him seriously on both counts; that meant feeding him, but feeding him stuff he liked, and he loved eggs!

  “So what all are yo
u girls up to today?” Sam asked.

  “Well, we're going grocery shopping,” Indie said. “Anything that wasn't frozen or canned went bad while we were gone, so I gotta replace a lot. And then we're going over to the preschool and get a certain Miss Kenzie registered, because it starts in two weeks, and she's all excited about it!”

  “Yeah!” Kenzie said. “When you go to school, you get to make friends, and you get to eat lunches from bags, and learn how to read and write and all kinds of stuff!”

  Sam looked at her with his eyes wide. “Really?” he asked. “You get to do all that at school? I think I wanna go to school with Kenzie—that sounds more fun than workin'!”

  Indie laughed, and so did Kenzie. “You can't go to school, it's not for old people, just for kids!”

  This was the way their mornings went, when they were all at home where they belonged. Sam was glad to be there, and thoughts of how close he had come to never seeing his home or family again ran through his mind.

  Sam and Indie had married only five weeks before, and immediately flew off to Hawaii for a luxurious honeymoon, but the next morning had been when the announcement came of the terrorist plot to try to blow up twelve cities with small suitcase nukes. Sam had seen something odd as they were flying out of Denver, and then again when they'd arrived at Honolulu, and when he put them together, he and Indie were able to track down one of the bombs.

  When local Honolulu police were too swamped to pay attention to Sam's tips, he'd called Harry Winslow, an undercover operative of the Department of Homeland Security that Sam had helped out once before. Harry not only listened, he ended up recruiting Sam to track down the terrorist cell in Denver that had actually initiated the entire plot. Their honeymoon already ruined, and with Kenzie in the care of their mothers in a cabin Sam had inherited from his father, they agreed to fly home and do what they could.