Fatal Invasion (The Fatal Series)

by Marie Force

  “It was a low bar,” he said as he always did. Since her ex-husband, Peter, was murdered in a plot that involved President Nelson’s son, it wasn’t as much fun as it used to be to talk about what a lousy husband he’d been.

  Sam turned in Nick’s arms and took five more minutes she didn’t have to marshal the strength she would need to get through another difficult day on the job. “Will you be able to stick around until Shelby gets here to take over?”

  “Yeah, I’ll stay. I told Terry I’d need some flexibility this week.”

  Sam curled her hand around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. “Thank you. For everything. Every single thing you do for me. Especially the coffee.”

  His smile stretched slowly across his sinfully handsome face.

  “I’m going to talk to Malone about finding a way to go with you next week.”

  “Really?”

  “With Gonzo and Freddie both off, it’s a huge long shot, so don’t get excited yet.”

  “Too late. I’m already excited.”

  “Can you hold that thought for the next twelve to fourteen hours?”

  “That’s apt to cause injury. The commercials say you ought to seek medical help after four hours.”

  Sam laughed, kissed him and stepped out of the shower. By the time she made her way downstairs fifteen minutes later, Nick had coffee and toast waiting for her.

  “Do you think other vice presidents make their own coffee and toast?” she asked after taking the all-important first sip of hot coffee. She still craved diet soda for her morning jolt of caffeine but didn’t miss the brutal stomach pain it used to cause.

  “I have no idea. I think the Naval Observatory comes with a chef.”

  “So, we could have a chef if we wanted one?”

  “I suppose. Do we want one?”

  Sam took a bite of peanut butter toast. “I don’t, but if it’s a perk of the job, it might be fun to see what it’s like.”

  “I’d hate to get used to that perk and then have to give it up when I leave office.”

  “True.” She glanced at the clock on the stove and saw that she had twenty minutes until she was due to meet Malone. “What’s the deal with Harry traveling with you?”

  “I had inherited Gooding’s doctor,” he said of the former vice president who had recently passed away after a battle with brain cancer. “But he’s retiring, and they told me I could pick whoever I wanted.”

  “Well, just so you know, I’ll be giving the various scenarios significant thought now that I know you’re required to travel with a personal physician.”

  “Don’t let your imagination run away with you.”

  “Too late.” Sam downed the last of her coffee and put the mug in the sink. “And on that bright note, I’m off to figure out who tortured and murdered the parents of those sweet kids sleeping upstairs.” She bent to kiss him as he sat at the table with the morning paper, which had a feature story on the fire at the Beauclair home. She skimmed the story and saw much less than she already knew, which pleased her.

  “Have a good day,” he said, looking up at her. “Call me if you need me.”

  “You do the same.”

  She was about to walk away when he took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. “Take good care of my wife out there. She’s my whole world.”

  “I will. Don’t worry.”

  “Ha. Now tell me not to breathe.”

  Sam gave her hand a gentle tug to get him to let go, when that was the last thing she wanted. But duty called, as it always did. The idea of a full week away from the grind with him became more appealing all the time. Not to mention the chance to meet the queen! As she went down the ramp that led to the sidewalk, Brant was on his way up, wearing a sharp gray suit with a red-and-blue-striped tie.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Cappuano.”

  “Morning, Brant.” She was almost past him when she stopped and turned. “Brant...”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Why is the vice president required to travel with a personal physician?”

  “So medical assistance is immediately available, should he require it.”

  “He’s perfectly healthy. Why would he require immediate medical assistance?”

  “As you well know, anything can happen.”

  “Anything as in what?”

  “You want specific scenarios?”

  “Yes, that’s what I want.”

  “There could be an accident, or he could catch the flu, for example. Having a doctor on standby who is loyal to the vice president is in his best interest.”

  “Would it be possible for someone to poison his food?”

  Brant’s eyes went wide.

  “Roll with me. I’m told I have a vivid imagination.”

  “Our advance team works with the hotels and other establishments, so that would be highly unlikely.”

  “But it could happen.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anything is possible. Our jobs are to reduce the likelihood of anything happening, and I promise you we take that very seriously. Which is why I had no choice but to object to the children being brought here. Ma’am.”

  “I understand, and I apologize for making your job more difficult than it already is.”

  “Never forget that you and I have the same goals.”

  “Yes, we do. Thank you for your time. You have a good day.”

  “You do the same, ma’am.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  AS SAM DROVE to HQ, she thought about what Brant had said about the two of them having the same goals. That was certainly true. Nothing mattered to her more than the safety of her loved ones.

  Her phone rang, and she took the call from Gonzo. “How’re you feeling?”

  “I’m okay, but I wanted to let you know that I’m going to be out for a while.”

  “Trulo told me he suggested you take some time off.”

  “That’s not what this is.” He paused before he said, “I’m going to rehab, Sam.”

  Stunned, she said, “For what?”

  “I, um, I’m apparently addicted to pain meds. I’ve been relying on them to get by, and it, well, it’s gotten out of hand.”

  Unable to process what he’d said while driving, she pulled over and came to a stop. “You’re hooked on pills?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please tell me you haven’t done anything illegal to get them.”

  “I wish I could,” he said with a deep sigh.

  “Oh, my fucking God, Gonzo.” Her mind raced with the implications.

  “I’m so sorry, Sam,” he said tearfully. “I’ve been a disaster since Arnold died, and I fucked up. But I’m going to fix it. I swear to God, I’m going to fix it. The place I’m going treats PTSD too.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Just tell me I still have a job to come back to.”

  “You know you have my full support, but if it gets out—”

  “It won’t.”

  Sam wished she shared his certainty. “Are you still at GW?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll be by to see you this morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “I hope you know how much we all care about you, Tommy.”

  “I do,” he said softly. “It means the world.”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  Reeling, she ended the call, pulled back into traffic and tried to make sense of what he’d told her. At least he was taking the steps necessary to get it under control, but he was addicted to pain meds. And she’d never noticed. What did that say about her as a friend and commander?

  At HQ, the first person she encountered upon entering the lobby was the chief. Great. She’d expected to have two more hours to prepare for this meeting.

 
; “A word, Lieutenant,” he said, his expression stern. Or possibly annoyed. She took a closer look. Definitely annoyed.

  She began to tell him that she had a meeting to get to with Captain Malone, but the chief trumped the captain every day and twice on Sundays.

  Farnsworth, the man she’d called Uncle Joe growing up, led her from the lobby to his suite of offices where his faithful assistant, Helen, was already on duty, looking far more perky than anyone should at six in the morning.

  “Close the door,” the chief said as Sam followed him into his office.

  He went around the desk and sat, gesturing for her to take one of his visitor chairs. “Just when I think I have you figured out, Lieutenant, you throw me a curveball. I spend one day in meetings at City Hall and come back to the news that you have custody of the Beauclair children. I think to myself, that can’t be possible because she’s the lead investigator of their parents’ murders.” He folded his hands on the desk and directed his steely glare at her. “Would you care to tell me how you ended up with custody of the Beauclair children while investigating their parents’ murders?”

  “It just sort of happened,” Sam said, trying not to squirm. “It was very late, and they needed a place to go. Nick and I are licensed foster parents. It was really that simple.”

  “As you and I both know, there’s nothing simple about it, and it’s a conflict of interest for you to be caring for the children of your murder victims.”

  “I understand.”

  “The children will be immediately removed from your custody—”

  “But—”

  He held up a hand to silence her. “Or you will be removed from the case. One or the other, Lieutenant. You can’t have it both ways.”

  “I pick the kids,” she said without hesitation.

  His brows went up, and his mouth opened before snapping closed. “Very well. You’re off the case.”

  “Before you decide anything, I found out in the middle of the night that one of the children currently in my custody witnessed his parents being tortured and possibly murdered. My plan today was to figure out how best to use this witness account to help us nail the people who committed these murders. In light of this development, I shall be taking an unplanned personal day to tend to my foster children, who need me very much right now.” Sam stood, preparing to make a grand exit. “I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch with Sergeant Gonzales in the hospital, but I’m sure Captain Malone can oversee the investigation in my absence.”

  “You think I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m wise to you, Lieutenant.”

  “I’m following your orders. Sir.”

  “Sit down.”

  She sat.

  “What did the child tell you?”

  “Just to be clear—are you asking me that as your lieutenant in charge of the Homicide division or as the foster parent to the child in question?”

  “Sam,” he said through gritted teeth, “I swear to God...”

  She told him what Alden had revealed in the middle of the night.

  For a long moment after she finished speaking, he stared at the far wall. He was so still that she wondered if he was breathing. Then he shifted his gaze toward her and said, “What’s your plan for using him as a witness?”

  “My goal is to do everything I can to not have to use him as a witness. If we can sew up the case using other means, then that’s what we’ll do. I’m due to meet with Malone about our next steps.” She glanced at her watch. “Ten minutes ago.” Clearing her throat, she added, “Sir.”

  “I assume you’ll be consulting with Dr. Trulo about counseling and care for the child?”

  “He’s second on my list for the day.”

  After another extended silence, the chief said, “Carry on.”

  “Sir?”

  “Work the case.”

  “I’m not relocating the kids at this point, because it wouldn’t be in their best interest. Their older brother is with them, and an aunt and uncle may be stepping up to take custody. I won’t have them for much longer.” Everything inside her rejected that realization, but with so many other things to deal with, she refused to get sucked into that rabbit hole. Not now anyway. There would be plenty of time after they were gone to fall apart. Right now, they needed her to find the people who’d murdered their parents and ruined their charmed lives. Hopefully, someday it would matter to them that she’d gotten justice for their family.

  The chief returned her mulish stare with one of his own. “I’d like your assurances that this sort of conflict won’t happen again.”

  “I’d like to promise you that, but I’m not sure I can guarantee I wouldn’t do the same thing again if I saw other children in distress.”

  “Perhaps you need to spend some time thinking about your priorities, Lieutenant.”

  Sam nearly recoiled from the shock of that statement. “Wow. Really?”

  “Yes, really! You can’t go around taking in the children of murder victims when you’re the lead investigator on the case!”

  “Why not?” Even knowing she was stepping way out of line couldn’t stop her from doing it anyway. “The kids had nothing to do with it. They’re innocent victims. And if I hadn’t taken in the Beauclair children, we might never have known that Alden witnessed the murders. Think about that.”

  He rubbed his face with his hands, and when he looked up at her, she saw exhaustion in his eyes. “You know why I haven’t retired when I could’ve quite some time ago?”

  Stunned by the unexpected segue, she shook her head.

  “One word: You. Y-o-u. You are the reason I can’t retire.”

  Sam had no idea what to say to that.

  “Anyone else in this job would have your badge and your ass in a sling before the first week was out. What people say about you in the department? That you get away with murder even as you investigate murders?” Leaning forward, he said, “It’s true. You do. After you close this case, I want you to take an unpaid week off and think about whether you and this job are going to be able to coexist in the future. I’m putting you on notice, Lieutenant. I won’t always be here to run interference for you.”

  Though his words shocked her, she didn’t hear much after “unpaid week off.” If she could close the Beauclair case before the weekend, she would be free to accompany Nick to Europe where she could do some “thinking” about whether she had a future as a member of the MPD. The timing would be convenient, but she couldn’t let the chief know that.

  She gave him a defiant look. “I’m sorry if you feel my performance is less than satisfactory, sir.”

  “No one thinks your performance is unsatisfactory, Lieutenant. It’s your methodology that could use some fine-tuning.”

  They engaged in a staring contest that ended when the chief looked away. “Get to work, Lieutenant, and keep a lid on the fact that the kids are with you. We don’t need that all over the news. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Sam got the hell out of there before he changed his mind about taking her off the case, but as she made her way to the detectives’ pit, his words echoed through her mind. You are the reason I can’t retire. Well, damn. That kinda hurt. And he really thought she got away with murder while catching murderers? That was also news to her. In her mind, she did what she had to in order to get the job done, and if he thought someone could do it better, they were welcome to try.

  Okay, well, not really, but she did an ugly job the best way she knew how. Later, when she had time to breathe, she would talk to her father about the things the chief had said and get his take on it. What if he felt the same way Farnsworth did but had never said so? Wouldn’t that beat all?

  Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, Sam found Malone in his office. “Sorry I’m late. I got waylaid by the chief.”

  “Who wasn’t at all happy to hear you’re fostering the Beauclai
r kids.”

  “I know. My ears are still ringing.”

  “He wants you off the case.”

  “So he said—until he heard that my foster child might actually be able to help us. Then he didn’t seem quite so determined to take me off the case.”

  “You’re walking a very fine line here, Sam. He’s absolutely right that it’s a clear-cut conflict of interest, and you know that.”

  “I do. But in the moment, all I saw were two little kids who needed something I could give them. You’ll have to pardon me if my first thoughts weren’t about my job.”

  “You know as well as I do that our first thoughts always need to be about the job.”

  “I’ll take the hit if you all feel I deserve one.” She’d already made her peace with the fact that she might never advance beyond the rank of lieutenant. “No problem. Do what you’ve got to do, but I wouldn’t have done anything different if I had it to do over again.”

  “No one is questioning whether your heart was in the right place. That’s not the issue here.”

  “I’m well aware of what the issue is, and like I said, I’m willing to take whatever hit you all feel is appropriate to get me back in line. In the meantime, I have a homicide investigation, two foster children, a sergeant in the hospital and a wedding to contend with. You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t have the time to fully explore my many transgressions.”

  Malone rolled his eyes. “Save the drama and tell me what’s up with Gonzo.”

  “You heard me. He’s out on medical leave indefinitely.”

  “What’s he got?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss that, and I believe you’re technically not at liberty to ask me.”

  “I’m not asking you as the captain. I’m asking you as his friend and colleague.”

  “Who also happens to be his big boss.”

  “Fair enough. How long will he be out?”

  “I’m planning to see him this morning, and I’ll get the particulars.”

  “Wish him well for me and let him know that we’ve got him covered here.”