Fatal Deception (7 page)

* * *

“Sam, babe, wake up.”

Sam could hear Nick trying to rouse her, but she was enjoying the sleep far too much for even him to convince her to give it up.

He kissed his way up her neck to her lips. “Babe, you slept through your alarm.”

Her eyes flew open and landed on his handsome face, an outstanding way to start what promised to be a shitty day. “What time is it?”

“Six.”

Sam groaned. “I’ve got to be at HQ in half an hour.”

“Then you’d better get moving.”

“Don’t want to.” Sam reached for him and let him surround her with his warmth and love. She’d give anything to be able to spend this day in bed with him.

“I know this is the last thing you want to hear,” he said, his lips laying a new path of heat on her neck, “but don’t forget tonight is Graham’s fundraiser.”

Sam moaned and pounded her fists on Nick’s back. “It’s not tonight! You said it was in a couple of weeks!”

“I said that a couple of weeks ago,” he replied, chuckling.

“I caught a murder yesterday. I can’t possibly go to a fundraiser tonight!” She thought of the champagne-colored gown that had been made for her by an up-and-coming Virginia designer who’d wanted to give it to her because of the publicity the event would garner. Apparently, on top of all her other roles, Sam was now a style icon too. Citing Senate rules about receiving gifts, Nick had insisted on paying for the dress.

“Samantha,” he said in that stern no-nonsense tone he saved for the most important moments, “you have to go. I said from the beginning you had to give me a firm commitment on this one. They billed it as both of us, and I can’t let Graham down.”

His adopted father and mentor, retired Senator Graham O’Connor was still a bigwig in the Virginia Democratic Party. He was the reason Nick was in office, and his support had been critical to Nick’s reelection campaign.

She wanted to weep and moan some more, but how could she do that when he was exactly right? He’d explained that Graham wanted to show his support for the campaign and had requested they both attend the event. Since Sam had barely lifted a finger to assist in her husband’s campaign, she’d thought at the time he asked that she could give him one night. Of course she could.

“So,” he said, continuing to work his magic on her neck, “we’re good, right?”

“Yes, we’re good.”

“And you’ll be home by six and ready to go by six-thirty?”

“Yes!”

“And you won’t keep me waiting, wondering where you are and thinking you’re standing me up when I ask so very little of my precious wife, right?”

More moaning because he did, in fact, ask very little of her. “Yes!”

“Yes, you’re going to stand me up or yes, you’ll be ready on time?”

She pushed at his chest when the last thing she wanted was to push him away. “Yes, I’ll be ready on time. Now let me up, you heavy beast.”

“I’m not done yet.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

“And what is that?” he asked with a smirk.

“You’re trying to piss me off and start a fight so we can have make-up sex later, but I’m wise to you, my friend, and I’m no longer easy that way. So you can try and try, but you will not make me mad.”

“Samantha,” he said, his tone thick with condescension, “I could make you madder than a wet hen in two seconds flat if I really wanted to. Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous this morning. As long as I know I can count on you to be here on time tonight, my work here is finished.”

When he tried to kiss her mouth, she turned away from him. “I’m not kissing you after that. No way. And as scintillating as this conversation has been, I gotta go, so if you could remove yourself from my person...”

“Not until you kiss me.”

“You do realize I’m trained in all sorts of methods to get you off me, and if I chose to implement these methods—”

Flashing that half grin she loved so much, he kissed her into submission. “There,” he said as he rolled over to let her up, “now I can let you go for twelve whole hours.”

“I let you do that.”

He sat up on his side of the bed to stretch. “Duly noted, my love.”

Even though she so didn’t have time for this, she crawled up behind him and pressed her breasts to his back.

He sucked in a deep breath, as she’d known he would, and his entire body went rigid when she dragged a hand down the front of him to stroke him back to life. “What’re you doing?”

She stayed silent until he was good and hard, and then she released him. “Getting the last word,” she said, kissing his shoulder. She bolted from the bed and made for the bathroom.

“I let you do that!” he called after her.

Laughing, Sam stepped into the shower.

* * *

As much as she’d loved the sparring match with her husband, she was now frightfully late with no time to eat. Her stomach growled with emptiness, so she decided to grab something on the way to HQ for the six-thirty meeting, which was in sixteen minutes.

From a lockbox in the bedside table drawer, she retrieved her weapon, cuffs and badge. She slid the weapon into a hip holster, clipped the badge on the waistband of her jeans and jammed the cuffs into one back pocket and her ever-present notebook into the other. Grabbing her phone off the charger, she pushed that into one of her front pockets.

Nick emerged from the bathroom with a towel slung low around his narrow hips. He was finger combing his wet hair, which made the muscles on his chest flex rather appealingly.

As usual, Sam was struck dumb by the sight of him.

“You’re staring,” he said as he withdrew a suit from his closet. “And you’re late, so get moving.”

“You’re very bossy this morning.”

“You require a tremendous amount of supervision.”

“Still not getting mad.” She went up on tiptoes to press a lingering kiss on him. Patting his freshly shaven face, she said, “Nice try, though, Senator. Do me a favor, will you? If you have time this morning, shoot me an e-mail with everything you remember about Victoria from the day you met her. Tell me about their wedding and anything else that might give me some insight into her.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“I can’t find any reference to her online before she worked for Calahan Rice. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

Shrugging, he said, “Maybe she was low profile before then.”

“I understand low profile. It’s no profile I don’t get. Everyone who’s been alive in the last two decades has a past. If there’s a paper trail of any kind, normally you can find it online. College degrees, licenses, that kind of stuff. There’s nothing at all for her.”

“And when did you make this discovery?”

Shit
, she thought, wishing once again for the clueless husband who didn’t see right through her. “Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Why waste the time?”

His frown spoke volumes. “You’ll be wiped out today after only a couple of hours of sleep.”

“I’ll be fine, perky and ready to play the politician’s perfect spouse later.”

He smiled down at her. “That’ll be the day. Be careful out there today, babe.”

“I always am. Will you be with Derek at all today?”

“As much as I can. I’ve got two committee hearings and a town hall meeting with constituents that we’re doing via Skype this afternoon, so I can’t get out of that.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Harry’s taking the day off to be with him.”

“Try to have a good one.”

“You too. Find that baby.”

“I’m hoping third shift got us a thread to pull. I’ll let you know what I hear. See ya, babe.” Sam went downstairs and was bolting down the ramp that led to the sidewalk a minute later. She drove much faster than she should have through Capitol Hill, which was still quiet at that early hour. Pulling up to a convenience store on D Street, she double-parked outside and ran in to grab a bagel.

She was standing at the back case, deciding between apple and cranberry juice while yearning for diet cola, when the reflection off the glass drew her attention to the front of the store, where a man wearing a heavy coat waved a gun around.

Fuck. As she dropped the bagel on the floor and crouched behind one of the shelves, it occurred to her that she was going to be late for her meeting. With her heart beating fast and hard, she dashed off a text to Freddie and Gonzo, requesting backup.

A woman lying on the floor gestured for Sam to be quiet.

Sam twisted her body so the other woman could see her badge and gun.

The woman’s eyes lit up with relief.

With a finger to her lips, Sam urged the woman to remain calm and quiet as Sam crawled past her and an older man who was also lying in the bread aisle. Minutes that felt like hours passed as the clerk loaded money into a plastic shopping bag. His hands, Sam noted, were trembling.

The perp danced from one foot to the other, clearly high on something.

A young woman came skipping through the door, unaware she was walking into a potential nightmare.

Sam wanted to yell at her to get down, but when the perp swung his gun in her direction, she let out a scream and dove onto the floor. Smart girl. Whimpers and sniffs from the next aisle told Sam there were other civilians hiding there. At least five, Sam concluded as she watched the gunman return his attention to the panic-stricken man behind the counter.

“Hurry up!”

Sam made eye contact with the cashier, flashing her badge and gun, and encouraging him with the briefest of nods to stay calm.

Sensing something was happening behind him, the gunman twisted around to survey the rest of the store.

Sam ducked behind a display and held her breath. As long as he thought unarmed civilians surrounded him, they were probably relatively safe. If he caught wind of a cop in their midst, this could go bad fast.

After realizing he had help, the clerk seemed to calm down. His hands weren’t shaking quite as violently, and his movements were slow and precise as he emptied the register.

Knowing her presence had calmed the man, Sam hoped she didn’t let him down.

“What about the safe?” the gunman asked.

“I don’t have access.” He glanced again at Sam, which caused the gunman to turn again.

Seeing nothing amiss and everyone on the floor where they were supposed to be, he returned his attention to the clerk.

Now or never
, Sam decided, springing to her feet and rushing the gunman from behind. She was a foot from him when he sensed her coming. He swung his arm back, and the gun caught her square in the face. Even though the blow knocked her senseless, she knew if she hesitated, she’d be the first to die.

“Stay down,” she yelled to the other people in the store. Grabbing his arm, she twisted and wrenched it until he had no choice but to release the gun. As it clattered to the floor, she tugged his arms behind his back and had him facedown and cuffed within ten seconds.

“Holy shit,” the clerk uttered. “That was fucking amazing.”

The rest of the people in the store surged to their feet and rushed her.

“She’s bleeding,” one of them said.

“We need a clean cloth and some ice,” another cried.

By the time Freddie and Gonzo arrived with the cavalry, Sam was being tended to by seven of her new best friends.

“Don’t let us interrupt the party,” Freddie said drolly, even though Sam could tell he was relieved to see her alive and well and the gunman neutralized. Reaching for the radio on his hip, he called for transport for the perp and a bus for her.

“I don’t need EMS,” Sam protested, even though she was starting to have trouble seeing out of her right eye due to the swelling. To the citizens who’d come to her aid, she said, “I’m fine, everyone. Thanks.”

Freddie leaned in and took a closer look. “Um, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Lieutenant, but your cheek is laid wide open. You do need EMS.”

“Oh, come on! I’ve got a homicide investigation to contend with. I can’t spend half a day in the ER.”

Her usually amenable partner shrugged. “You can’t walk around with your face sliced in half either. You’re scary enough as it is.”

“It can’t be that bad.” To the clerk, she said, “Is there a mirror around here?”

He pointed to the back of the store. “In the restroom.”

With Freddie in tow, Sam stepped over her abandoned bagel on the way to the restroom. She flipped on the light, took one look in the mirror and nearly fainted. “Oh shit,” she whispered, remembering the fundraiser that evening and the dress she was wearing to help out one of Nick’s constituents. She probably ought to give the designer the chance to back out of the arrangement.

“Told ya,” Freddie said as he snagged a bag of powdered donuts off the shelf. As he ventured to the front of the store to pay for his favorite food group, Sam withdrew her cellphone from her pocket to call Nick.

They had a deal that he heard any unusual or upsetting happenings on the job directly from her as soon as it was possible for her to call. That deal resulted in frequent phone calls to her husband during crazy workdays.

“Didn’t I just see you?” he asked when he answered.

As always, the sound of his voice calmed her. “So, okay, something happened, but I’m fine.” She hated, absolutely hated, having to tell him things she knew would upset him. But she hated more the wounded look on his face when he realized she’d kept something major from him.

“Define ‘something’ and ‘fine.’” Normally, his stern tone would make her laugh, but this wasn’t the time for laughter.

As she took a moment to choose her words, she returned to the front of the store where patrol was hauling the gunman off the floor and escorting him out the door. “I stopped to get a bagel at a place on D Street and interrupted a robbery in progress. I neutralized the gunman, and all is well.”

“Define ‘neutralized the gunman.’”

Sam gritted her teeth, knowing she owed him the full truth. “I jumped him from behind, and it would’ve been a perfect takedown if he hadn’t smacked me in the face with the gun.”

He gasped. “Jesus Christ, Sam. So you’re hurt.”

“Only a cut. They’re taking me to the ER to get some stitches.” She held up a finger to stop the paramedics from approaching her until she took care of her husband. “No biggie—and you do not have to come there. You’ve got a busy day with hearings and town hall meetings, and your friend needs you. I prohibit you from coming to the ER, do you hear me?”