Fatal Identity (6 page)

“What? Okay, I'm coming. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

“You have to stay with Scotty.” Her voice broke and tears flooded her eyes. “I can't wake him up, Trace. Nick. He won't wake up.”

“I'll be right there.”

Sam went to Nick and shook him again, looking for something, anything. “Please,” she whispered. “Wake up.”

But like before, he didn't move.

She laid her hand on his chest where the strong beat of his heart was the best thing she'd ever felt. Then she noted the rise and fall of his breathing. Those were good signs, weren't they?

It seemed to take hours for the paramedics to arrive when it was probably only minutes. Everything moved very quickly. They had him on an IV and strapped to a gurney in a matter of seconds and were whisking him out of the house, escorted by the Secret Service.

Sam was torn in two very distinct directions—go with Nick or stay with Scotty until Tracy arrived. She looked in on Scotty, who'd gone back to sleep. The fact that he was sleeping through this cemented her decision.

“My sister Tracy is coming to stay with him,” Sam said to Darcy. “If he wakes up before she gets here, tell him I took his dad to see Harry. Don't say anything about ambulances or paramedics.”

“Of course. I hope the vice president is okay.”

“So do I.”

Sam ran out of the house without a coat and bolted down the ramp to the back of the ambulance. The sight of Nick, unmoving and strapped to a gurney, his face ghostly pale, made Sam stagger under the weight of her fear. Thankfully, Brant took hold of her arm and helped her into the ambulance before she tripped and fell.

“Why won't he wake up?” she asked the paramedics when they were on their way to GW.

“We think he's severely dehydrated. We're pumping fluid into him, which ought to help.”

Dehydrated. She could work with that.

“But he's going to be okay, right?”

“He should be.”

Sam clung to those three little words on the rapid trip to the hospital, where he was taken straight into an exam room. One of the nurses put an arm around Sam's shoulders and guided her out of the room. “Let me find a place for you to wait where you won't be bothered, Mrs. Cappuano.”

“I want to be with him.”

“Give us a chance to get him stable, and we'll get you right in with him.”

“He's not stable now?”

“We're still assessing his condition. It'll be a few minutes.”

Harry came rushing in, and Sam had never been so happy to see anyone in her life.

“They're telling me I can't stay with him.”

“I'll get you in there as soon as I can.” He gave her a quick hug. “Go with Nancy. She'll get you settled somewhere to wait.”

“Harry, please...
Please
.”

“He's going to be fine. I promise.”

Those were, without any doubt, among the best words she'd ever heard. While Brant and another member of Nick's detail stood watch outside the exam room, Sam let Nancy lead her to a private waiting room. She wanted to ask why the agents could stay but she couldn't, but she already knew the answer to that.

“Is there someone you could call to come sit with you?” Nancy asked.

The only person Sam wanted was Nick. “I, um, I could call my sister.”

“Would you like me to do it for you?”

Angela would freak out if she got a call from a nurse at the GW Emergency Room. “Thank you, but I'll do it.”

“Is there anything I can get you? Water, coffee?”

“A stiff drink?” Sam said with a small smile.

“Wish that was on the menu.”

“I'm fine, thank you. Please let me know the second you hear anything.”

“We will. I just want to say... All of us here, we think you and the vice president make for a beautiful couple, and we admire you both so much.”

Sam blinked rapidly, overcome with emotion. “Thank you. That's very nice of you.”

“He's young and strong and healthy. Have faith in all those things.”

Sam nodded because she didn't trust herself to speak.

Nancy left her alone, and Sam took a moment to get herself together before she called Ang.

“Hey, what's up? I was going to call you later.”

“Ang.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Can you come to the GW ER? Please? Nick is here, and he's really sick. I don't know what's wrong with him—”

“I'll be there. Hang tight.”

“Thank you.” Thank God for her sisters, Sam thought. They always came running when she needed them. Her phone dinged with a text from Tracy saying she was at Sam's house, and Scotty was still sleeping.

Let me know when you hear anything about Nick.

I will. Harry is with him now.

He's in very good hands.

Sam tried to take comfort in that, in knowing Harry cared about him as much as anyone did, anyone other than her, that is. No one cared more about Nick than she did. She couldn't sit still. She paced from one end of the small room to the other, worried about Nick, worried about Scotty waking up to Tracy rather than her. If anything happened to Nick...

That thought had her dropping into a chair because her legs were too wobbly to support her. If this was what he went through every time she walked out the door to go to work or got herself into a jam on the job, it was a wonder he could function.

Her phone rang and she took a call from Nick's dad. “Hi, Leo.”

“Hey, Sam, I tried to reach Nick, but his phone goes right to voicemail. I know how busy he is, so I figured I'd call you about coming up for dinner this weekend.”

“Oh, um, he's sick, Leo. He's got the flu. In fact, I'm at the GW ER with him right now. They think he's severely dehydrated.”

“Oh no! I just talked to him yesterday.”

“It came on him and Scotty out of nowhere.”

“Should I come down?”

“I don't think you need to,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “They said he's going to be fine, and I can keep you posted. No sense exposing you or Stacy and the kids to what they've got.”

“If you're sure...”

“I'll tell him you called, and I'll text you.”

“Tell him...” Leo hesitated, but only for a second. “Tell him I love him.”

“I'll do that.” She wiped tears from her eyes. Under normal circumstances, tears pissed her off. Today she couldn't care less about them.

Angela arrived twenty minutes after Sam called her. Wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt without a coat, she rushed into Sam's outstretched arms.

“Thank you so much for coming.”

“How is he?”

“I haven't heard anything since I talked to you. I'm losing my mind.”

“So what happened?”

Sam relayed the story of how Nick and Scotty had come home sick the day before, and while Scotty seemed a tad bit better after a rough night, Nick was worse. “I couldn't get him to wake up, Ang. I've never been so scared in my life.” Even when she'd been at Stahl's mercy in that basement, she hadn't been nearly as frightened as when she couldn't rouse Nick. Being scared for herself was a whole lot different than being scared for him.

CHAPTER SIX

T
IME
SLOWED
TO
a crawl. Sam experienced every minute as if it were an hour. Her heart ached with worry and fear and the agony of being separated from him when he needed her. If the roles had been reversed, he'd be raging at anyone who tried to keep him away from her. She headed to the door to start raging, and nearly ran into Harry.

“How is he?”

“He's conscious but badly dehydrated and a little confused due to the dehydration. We're pumping him full of fluid, and he should be much better in a couple of hours.”

The flood of relief was so profound that Sam ended up in Harry's arms sobbing.

He held her until she got it all out.

“Sorry,” she said, embarrassed by her meltdown.

“Don't be. I was pretty freaked out myself when you said he was unresponsive.”

“Glad it wasn't just me.”

“It definitely wasn't just you. You want to see him?”

“Yeah.” The understatement of a lifetime.

“Come on.” He gestured for Angela to join them as they walked through the ER to Nick's room, where Brant and one of the other agents, whose name escaped her at the moment, were standing watch.

“Good to hear he's doing better,” Brant said.

Sam nodded in agreement. In the room, a nurse typed on a computer. Nick was asleep, and when she looked extra close, she saw a tad bit more color in his cheeks than he'd had earlier.

Her cell phone rang, but she ignored it to go to him, to run her hand over his face, to brush the hair back from his forehead so she could kiss him there. “How's his fever?” she asked the nurse.

“It was down to 102.5 the last time we checked it. He's getting something for that in the IV.”

“Good, that's really good.”

“He'll be fine,” the nurse said. “It's just going to take a day or two.”

Sam's phone rang again, and since Nick was sound asleep, she looked at the caller ID. Terry O'Connor. She took the call from Nick's chief of staff. “Hi, Terry.”

“What's going on? I heard from the Secret Service that he's in the hospital.”

Sam filled him in on what'd happened.

“Jesus. I was with him when it came on yesterday. Never seen anyone go down that hard or that fast. Scared the shit out of me and everyone else around here.”

“Scared me too. I've never seen him with a cold, let alone something like this.”

“The press is going crazy wanting to know what's wrong with him. What would you like me to tell them?”

“Do we have to say anything?”

“I'd recommend we give them a little something to stop the feeding frenzy. I saw one comment online that people are speculating he was poisoned.”

Sam's stomach dropped. “For real?”

“Afraid so.”

“Hang on a second.”

To Harry, she said, “Terry wants to say something to the press about what's going on. How would you describe it?”

“A nasty bout of the flu.”

Sam relayed the information to Terry and gave him the green light to tell the press the vice president had been hospitalized due to the flu.

“Got it,” Terry said. “I'll take care of it. What else can I do? Anything for you or Scotty?”

“Scotty has it too, and my sister Tracy is with him. I think we're set, but I'll let you know later how he is.”

“Please do. Tell him we're thinking of him.”

“I will.”

“I suppose I probably ought to clear his schedule for the next few days.”

“Make it the next week.”

“Okay, will do.” He paused and then said, “Before I let you go, I should mention I talked to Christina, and she said Tommy isn't doing well at all. I thought you might like to know.”

Sam closed her eyes and took a deep breath, ashamed to realize she'd forgotten all about Gonzo and getting in touch with him in the madness of the last twenty-four hours. “You're right. I do want to know. I'll reach out to him later today.”

“Sounds good. Take care, Sam, and let me know how Nick is.”

“I will.” She stashed the phone in her pocket and took hold of Nick's overly warm hand, bending her head over his chest when the tears started up again.

Angela squeezed her shoulders.

“You don't have to stay, Ang,” Sam said. “You must've had other plans today.”

“I don't mind staying. Spence is with the kids, and they'll make him appreciate and worship me, so it's all good.”

Sam wouldn't have thought she could laugh right then, but Angela proved her wrong. Then she was crying again, her head propped on Nick's hand. Her cell phone rang, and Angela took it from her to answer it. Sam heard her sister talking, but couldn't bother to care who she was talking to.

“Hey, Sam, Freddie really needs to talk to you. I told him where we are and what's going on. He said it's urgent.”

Sam took a deep breath, wiped away her tears and stood to take the phone from her sister. “Hey, what's up?”

“Angela told me about Nick. I hope he's okay.”

“He will be. What's going on?”

“Director Hamilton is calling Josh every fifteen minutes like clockwork.”

“Since when?”

“Early this morning. Josh says he's called him more today than in the last five years combined.”

“Shit, he's probably tracking the phone by now so he knows where Josh is.” Sam's brain was so muddled with worries about Nick that it was hard to think about anything else. “Get him out of there right away. Move to another hotel outside the city and have him power down the phone. Tell him to let work know he's got an emergency to contend with and won't be in this week. Don't let him make any contact with the outside world until we say otherwise.”

“What do I do with him when I have to go to work?”

“Leave him locked in the room and tell him he has to stay off the radar until we know what's going on. The fact that his father is looking for him has me thinking he knows about the photo.
If
they had anything to do with taking him, that photo will send them into a panic. If they panic, they may do something stupid that might involve him getting killed. You see where I'm going with this?”

“Yeah, I do, and I don't like it, Sam. This has the potential to blow up like a nuclear bomb in our faces, and frankly, after recent events, neither of us can afford that.”

He was right. She knew he was right, but what was she supposed to do? As if she'd conjured him, she heard her father's voice in her head.
Go to Farnsworth.
Go directly to Farnsworth
.

Sam blew out a deep breath. “Listen, if you don't want to be involved, I understand. Let me know where you stash him, and I'll take it from there.”

“I didn't say I don't want to be involved. I merely mentioned the potential for nuclear-level fallout.”

“I'll take it to Farnsworth and turn it over to the department.”

“Um, before you do that, you should know that Josh told me last night that if anyone but you—and me by extension of you—is involved, he's going to disappear. He seems really agitated since his father started calling. So you might want to hold off on involving the department.”

“Rock, meet hard place.” Sam glanced at Nick, who was still sleeping. She rarely found herself at a loss for what to do in any given situation, but this was a tough one. She was torn between what she
should
do to look out for herself—and now her partner too—and what was best for Josh. “What do we do?”

“My better judgment is saying go to Farnsworth, but if Josh bolts, this could get really complicated, especially when it comes out that we had him in custody.”

“Shit, fuck, damn, hell.”

“What you said.”

Sam was well aware that Freddie would take his lead from her, even if it meant venturing into murky gray area. “Get him settled somewhere else and then punch out of this situation. I'll take it from here.” As she said the words, she didn't have a plan beyond getting through the next hour with Nick. She'd figure something out for Josh. She always did.

“I don't want to punch out. I'm in it for better or worse at this point. I'll do some digging and see if I can get anything useful from him.”

“I can't protect you if this goes nuclear.”

“I don't expect you to.”

“If you're going to dig, dig carefully.”

“Don't worry. I will. I'll let you know if I get anything, and I'll shoot you a text about where Josh is. Keep me posted about how Nick is doing?”

“Yeah, I will, and thanks.”

“No problem.”

Though he said it was no problem, this situation could turn into a huge problem for both of them unless they managed it carefully. But what was she supposed to do at this juncture? Go to her brass with the possibility that FBI Director Hamilton's son could or could not be a child kidnapped from a family in Tennessee thirty years ago? She was already on thin ice with the department. If she opened that can of worms only to find out it wasn't true, what then? And if Josh found out she'd taken his claims to the department, he'd bolt.

“What the hell is going on?” Angela asked when Sam had stashed the phone in her back pocket.

“A really weird new case.”

“I thought you were suspended.”

“Heard about that, huh?”

“Everyone knows. It was in the paper this morning.”

“Ugh, goddamned Darren.”

“It wasn't just him. It was all over the place—in the papers, on TV, talk radio.”

“Great.” Her phone rang and she removed it from her pocket to check the caller ID. Her White House chief of staff, Lilia Van Nostrand's name showed on the screen. Since Nick was still asleep, Sam took the call. “Hi, Lilia.”

“I just heard about the vice president. Is he all right? Are you?”

“He's been felled by a nasty bout of the flu. I'm told he's going to be fine. My nerves are shot, but otherwise, I'm okay.”

“Oh, thank goodness! I couldn't believe what they were saying on the news about him being transported by ambulance to GW.”

“Jeez, nothing gets by the Washington press corps, huh?”

“No, and that's the other reason for my call.”

“I heard my name is above the fold today.”

“It is, and I'm wondering how you wish to handle it.”

“Why do I have to handle it?”

“We're getting slammed with requests for statements, as is the vice president's office.”

“I spoke to Terry a few minutes ago, and he didn't mention it.”

“Probably because he's concerned for the vice president's health at the moment, as am I. We wouldn't want you to think our priorities lie anywhere other than with both of you.”

“I understand, and I appreciate the fact that you're being slammed. You could say that the second lady has no comment on the suspension, which is an internal MPD matter.”

“How about the fact that U.S. Attorney Forrester is considering assault charges?”

“You can get a statement from him about that. If or when it happens, I'll have no choice but to deal with it. Until that time, it's speculation, and I don't comment on speculation.”

“Can we say that in the statement?”

“Sure, knock yourselves out.”

“I'll have Andrea put something together for you,” Lilia said of Sam's communications director. “We'll run it by you before we release it.”

“No need. I trust you guys to handle it.”

“We'll take care of it, then. If you have a chance later, let me know how the vice president is doing—and how you're doing.”

“I will. Thank you, Lilia.”

“Anytime.”

“I still can't believe you have a chief of staff at the White House,” Angela said as Harry returned to the room to check on Nick.

“Can you imagine being her chief of staff?” Harry asked. “I need to meet this saint of a woman.”

“Bite me,” Sam said, though she was relieved he was making jokes. That must mean Nick's situation wasn't as dire as it had seemed for a while there.

“Who's she biting now?” Nick muttered.