Leo snorts a laugh at the memory. I wave away Marcus’s words. “They weren’t exactly what you would call high-tech, though,” I argue, gesturing at the computer screens. “And I’m sure as hell not the first computer geek to try and change the grades of his fellow students.”
“Maybe not,” Marcus agrees. “All I’m trying to say is even with your skill, your security measures can be dismantled.”
“There’s always a way to backtrack it,” Leo suggests. “Figure out where the original hack came from, trace it right down to the location where it was hacked.”
Marcus nods his agreement. “Only problem with that is with technology being what it is, the hack could be from an IP address in Antarctica when in reality the hacker is just down the street. Matt, have you had a chance to ask Samantha about the woman?”
I shake my head. “No,” I answer. “Not yet. She wasn’t exactly what we could call lucid last night.”
“What about Tyler?” Leo asks.
“He’s six,” I remind him. “His memory isn’t the greatest.”
“No, but he can still give us a clue into who might be behind this,” Marcus says thoughtfully. “You’d be surprised the things kids tend to remember even under duress. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen someone convicted because of the testimony of a child...”
“I’ll ask him,” I say firmly. “I don’t want my son interrogated.”
“Of course,” Marcus tells me in a placating tone. “In the meantime, we’re keeping an eye on Frank Marone’s business. He’s been very conveniently absent since the other night and right now, he’s the prime suspect behind this.”
Leo’s brow furrows. “You think Frank kidnapped Sam and Tyler?” he asked.
“Not necessarily,” Marcus tells him. “But he could be the mastermind behind this whole thing. Or one of them. A few of the local shopkeepers have been questioned and a few have mentioned seeing people coming and going in the dead of night.”
“That’s not news,” I say darkly. “That bastard’s got his hand in some really illegal shit, even if I can’t prove it.”
“Well, it is news, since at least one person has witnessed a woman wandering around the building.”
Leo and I sit up at the exact same time. “Who’s the witness?” I ask quickly.
Marcus checks his notes. “A Bonnie Harris,” he says. I look at Leo, a smirk playing on his lips. “I take it you know her?”
“Yes,” Leo says. “And if anyone’s gotten a good look at the people coming and going from Frank’s, it’s Bonnie.”
“We’ll talk to her ourselves,” I tell Marcus. “She trusts us. She knows us. She’ll tell us whatever we want to know. I’m not sure she really trusts law enforcement.”
“Why?” Marcus asks curiously.
I shrug. “Just how she is,” I say fondly. “She’s also not one to be intimidated by anybody.”
“I’ll give her call later,” Leo says, still looking at the blank computer screens with a brooding stare. “You should get back to Sam. She’ll probably need another round of reassurance that you’re back from the dead.”
“Hilarious,” I say, deadpan. “Another zombie joke and you’ll be out on your ass.”
Leo snorts a laugh, but doesn’t look the least bit threatened as I stand up.
“Keep me posted. I want to know every last detail that comes up,” I instruct both Marcus and Leo. “I’ll be in contact later.”
Ignoring their insistences that I just relax with my family for a change, I leave the room and go about gathering a few things for both Samantha and Tyler. Until she’s released from the hospital, our son will be staying with Claire. And since I don’t know how long that will be, it seems necessary to pack him a bag. Looking around my home, I never really considered it a possibility that this would be an unsafe place for my family. Security guards. Cameras. Electrified fencing. I’ve made this place a fucking compound that most federal institutions would be envious of. And yet it wasn’t enough. I’m reminded of the apparent leak from inside my circle of acquaintances. I’m still no closer to discovering the identity, but I think I’m starting to zero in on a few key suspects. It’s not a list I like and I hope to God I’ve never been more wrong about something in my life, but something tells me I’m right at least about the list itself.
I make my way out of the house and down the long stone staircase to the driveway, tossing the two backpacks worth of clothes, books, games, and toys into the backseat. Just as I’m about to get in the driver’s seat, a voice calls my name. I look up and sigh at the sight of Marcus walking down to greet me.
“New information so soon?” I ask sarcastically.
“Not exactly,” he says, standing in front of me as I lean against the side of the SUV. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Hoffman, since we’re still looking into a few things.” I immediately begin to glare at the insinuation; Marcus holds up his hands as if in self-defense. “I’m just saying there are things some people don’t need to know just yet.”
Crossing my arms, I square my shoulders. “And what things might those be?” I ask coldly.
“You’re under investigation, Matt,” he tells me bluntly. Immediately my defensive stature falters. “For the plane crash. Unless you’ve forgotten, people died that day. People I know you at least cared about in some capacity. The fact that you knew there was a problem with the plane when you assisted the pilot in the preflight checks, yet you didn’t tell anybody makes you an accessory in conspiracy. Now, I know why you did what you did,” he holds up a hand to stop me from speaking, “and I understand completely the threat that you were facing, but this isn’t just going to go away, Matt. With you seemingly back from the dead the families of those who were actually on the plane will want answers. Luckily I’ve been able to keep your reappearance low-key, but people are going to start to notice you’re alive when you go back to work. And I know you well enough to know you’re not just going to stay holed up in your house until this blows over.”
My head falls back to rest on the car. “Fuck,” I breathe.
“Exactly,” Marcus says grimly. “Like I said, I’ll do what I can, but I don’t know what that might be.”
“I appreciate it,” I say quietly and sincerely. “I’ll cooperate with the investigation, of course. Whatever needs to be done. Whether that is monetarily or... whatever.” I don’t want to say it aloud, but I’m not stupid enough to believe this sort of investigation won’t lead to jail time—or worse. I could lose everything. Which means Samantha and Tyler could lose everything. I can’t let that happen...
“I’ll let you be on your way,” Marcus tells me in an uncharacteristically kind voice. “Just keep your head down for a change and everything will be fine.”
I snort skeptically, knowing he doesn’t even believe his own words, and get into my car, more eager than before to get to the hospital.
-------------o-------------
As I enter Samantha’s hospital room, I smile at the sight that greets me. Claire and Tyler are here—Tyler in his mother’s bed, resting his head against her chest—and Samantha repeatedly presses little kisses to his head and looking as though she has no intention of ever letting him go again.
“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Claire announces, grinning at me.
Samantha turns, her eyes widening just as they had last night when she saw me standing in her room. The look on her face can only be described as joy and bliss at the realization that what she presumed to have been a dream is real. “Hi,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears.
“Hi yourself,” I say just as quietly, dropping both backpacks against the wall and crossing the room. I ruffle Tyler’s hair a little as I lean down to press a lingering kiss against Samantha's forehead, trying to further convince her that this is very far from being a dream. “You look better than you did last night.”
“It’s not nice to tell a woman she didn’t look nice, Matthew,” my sister says sternl
y, a teasing smile on her lips.
I roll my eyes at Claire, but sit in the chair across the bed from her. “How was breakfast?” I ask Samantha.
“Much better than hospital food,” she informs me, her eyes taking in every detail about my face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I also brought some things for you—books, pajamas that give a bit more modesty than hospital gowns.” A smile crosses her face. “And I brought a bag for Ty for when he’s released.”
Her smile falters.
“I already told her I’ll be taking him back to my place,” Claire says. “She’s resistant to the idea.”
I smile at Samantha sympathetically, understanding the feeling of not wanting to let a person out of my sight lest something happen to them. “He’ll be fine,” I assure her quietly. “I promise.”
Hesitant though she obviously is, eventually she nods, which Claire and I assume to mean she’s okay with Tyler leaving the hospital without her. Claire and I try to curb her attention with our usual sibling bantering, even though we keep it somewhat tame with Tyler in the room. It’s not until we get her laughing until her ribs hurt that we realize her ribs actually are hurting and those tears streaming from her eyes we thought to be tears of laughter are real tears that we realize we’re not helping her. I reach across Tyler and press the little button beside Sam’s arm and within a few minutes, she’s relaxed again. I shoot Claire a pointed look and she seems to understand immediately.
“I should get back home and make sure my kids haven’t killed my husband and burned down my house. I just got new carpeting; can’t risk it,” she tells us matter-of-factly. Samantha chuckles, but looks slightly wistful. “Tyler, you want to go play at my house?”
Tyler looks hesitant for a moment, glancing at his mother who gives him a forced tight smile of encouragement. Apparently that’s all he needs to make up his mind. He makes a big show of kissing Samantha and half-listens to her telling him to behave before sliding off the bed and taking Claire’s hand. As they leave the room, they grab the backpack with Tyler’s things and Tyler turns around to wave at Samantha and me, leaving us gobsmacked and speechless with two words. “Bye, Daddy!”
It might be a little melodramatic, but those two words have knocked the breath right out of my body. I’ve never heard that word directed towards me before and I can’t deny how much I enjoy it. So much so that my eyes are actually watering and I’m staring at the door considering chasing after Tyler to hug him. I resist for the moment, turning back to Samantha who is staring at the door with as much surprise as I am.
“Did he just call you...” she whispers, dragging her eyes over to meet mine.
I nod silently, trying to figure out how she feels about that. “Is that okay?” I ask quietly.
She nods, her own eyes widening. “Yeah, of course,” she says. “I just didn’t realize...” Her brow furrows briefly and I know she’s about to change the subject. I prepare myself for what I know is coming next. “What the hell, Matt? How are you even here?”
Sighing, I scoot my chair closer to the bed. “It’s a very long story,” I tell her softly, tentatively reaching out to run a finger down her cheek, inwardly smiling at the way her eyes flutter close at my touch. “One I plan on telling you in full, but right now I don’t want to upset you. For now, can it be enough to know that I’m here and I’m not leaving again?”
She swallows hard, considering my words carefully. “For now,” she agrees in a whisper. “I missed you.”
I smile, bringing her uninjured hand in my own. “I missed you too,” I say hoarsely. “More than I can say.”
“You found us.”
It sounds like she’s both stating a fact and asking a question. I nod. “I’m just sorry it took so long,” I tell her. “If I’d known just how much trouble I’d gotten the two of you in, I would have been back sooner, despite all the advice I was getting to stay away until this shit sorted itself...” I shake my head at her troubled expression. “We’ll talk. I promise that. In the meantime, we have a couple other things we need to discuss.”
I don’t miss the sudden movement of her pulling her uninjured hand from mine to rest it protectively over her belly. In this moment, I fall back into my chair, realizing she already knows about the pregnancy. Part of me is relieved; I wasn’t really all that certain how I was going to bring it up. Part of me feels sick to my stomach; I have no idea how to proceed from here. “You already know,” she states quietly.
I nod. “The doctors mentioned it the night you were brought in,” I tell her, trying to force a smile. “I suppose they assumed I already knew.”
Her eyes close and we sit in silence for a few minutes until I think she’s fallen asleep. I sigh disappointedly and make to stand and pull the blankets around her to keep her warm before heading out of the room to make a few phone calls. To my surprise, she’s not asleep. “I don’t want you to think you’re obligated to do anything,” she says, her voice barely above a breath. “There’s so much going on in your life right now and this is probably the last thing you want to deal with...”
My heart skips a beat at her words. Is this her way of telling me she’s going back to Tom? Damn. Though I’d half-joked about it with Claire, I was really hoping to find out Tom really is sterile. “I know I’m not obligated,” I tell her painfully. “But that doesn’t stop me wanting to be there for you. I’ve spent too much time without you, Samantha. And I don’t want to waste another second; but of course I will support you however you want me to support you.”
Her eyes close as though she’s in pain, which probably isn’t far off the mark at the moment, and lets out a long, shaky breath. “I spoke to Tom this morning,” she whispers, staring at the hand on her belly.
Goddammit. Here it is... “And?” I ask a little more sharply than I intend.
She gives me a half-shrug. “He wants to fly out to see me,” she informs me. “But I managed to convince him it’s not necessary right now.”
“And he just accepted that?” I ask incredulously. I have to assume she’s told him about the pregnancy and I’m suddenly livid at Tom Saunders. What kind of dick does that? I don’t give a fuck where I am; if Samantha had told me about the pregnancy when I was away, I would have dropped every last fucking thing and gotten to her side as quickly as possible.
“For the moment,” Samantha says, looking at me in surprise at my tone. “But he did say if I need it, he has a room for Tyler and me...”
I close my eyes, hoping to hide the fact that she’s breaking my heart by informing me that she and Tyler will be leaving. An argument can be made that she’s taking my son from me again, but I’m not sure how much water that will hold; if she stays with me, she’ll be taking Tom’s child from him and as much as I loathe the bastard, I can’t imagine putting anybody through that pain. Besides, with another child to consider, the last thing she needs is to surround herself with the dangers of my life. Not to mention the possibility that I’ll be hauled into a courtroom and charged with several counts negligent homicide. She’s better off with the simple life Tom can provide her. And after everything, I don’t think there will be any arguments about whether I’ll be able to see my son whenever I want.
“Matt?” she whispers, pulling me back to reality. “What’s wrong?”
I force a smile onto my face. “Nothing,” I lie. “If you want, I can arrange to have Tom flown out until you’re well enough to travel. You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you wish.”
Her face pales and her mouth drops open a little. “Oh,” she says in a small voice. “Sure. Thank you.”
I nod once and suddenly have the desperate need to separate myself from Samantha before I break completely. “I should let you rest,” I say gruffly, getting to my feet. “I’ve got meetings and things to get to.” That’s a complete lie. I’d cleared my entire schedule to spend the day here with Samantha. Not that there was really much on my schedule; everything that needs to be done has been delegated to Leo or some
one else on my staff.
Samantha says something in response, but I can’t hear it over the pounding in my ears. I mutter something about seeing her later, and walk away from her as quickly as I can.
-------------o-------------
As Matt walks out the door, I’m left feeling lost, confused, and extremely hurt, and that’s not even considering the physical pain I have. His total dismissal of the pregnancy is devastating. I don’t know what I thought would happen. That he’d be as happy as he had been when he found out about Tyler. That he’d kiss me and hold me and convince me everything would be all right. Definitely not this.
But I have to take into account everything he’s been through. He’s been legally dead for nearly two months. I obviously don’t know the whole story, though I am imagining him cut off from everyone and everything he cared about. Maybe he’s come to the conclusion that I’m more trouble than I’m worth. I’m suddenly regretting letting Claire leave with my son; with them in the room, there was a buffer between Matthew and me, and I was able to pretend everything was fine between us. Then I remember the night before he left and the time we spent together, and his unspoken promise that we would be able to work things out and get to where we were supposed to be.
Apparently that’s not even a consideration anymore.
To my relief, the doctors arrive to check me over and give me a dose of pregnancy-friendly pain medication, and a few minutes after they’ve gone, I’m falling asleep, trying to control the tears streaming down my face.
23
It’s been two days since I’ve seen Samantha. I can give any number of excuses as to why I haven’t been back—I’ve been locked in offices with lawyers to change my status from dead to alive; I’ve been assisting the federal investigation in Sam and Tyler’s kidnapping; I’ve been searching for the mystery woman apparently behind what happened; I’ve been searching for Frank Marone; I’ve been dodging the media that’s been following me around since my return was leaked a day and a half ago. This last one is probably the closest I have to a legitimate excuse. The people trailing my moves have been staking out the hospital because someone mentioned seeing me there after the incident the other night and returning there could risk them trying to sneak in and ultimately find Samantha. Logically, I know the hospital security wouldn’t allow for something like that, but I don’t want her bothered, especially by those vultures.
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