Fatal Justice (15 page)

Nick got into the elevator and punched the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, he caught a last glance of Sam’s stunned expression.

“Sam?” her father said. “What is it? Is Freddie worse?”

Fixated on the elevator doors, she shook her head. “I think Nick just broke up with me.” She couldn’t believe how much it hurt to say those words.

“No, honey.” Celia slipped an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “He’d never break up with you. He’s upset.”

“This was more than that.”

“Once things calm down, he’ll come around,” Skip said.

In that moment, Sam realized things would never calm down, not with two all-consuming jobs sitting at the center of their relationship. “I don’t know, Dad. He sounded pretty sure.”

“Look at me.”

Startled by his sharp tone, Sam let her eyes drop down to meet his. “He’s upset about Sinclair. You can’t take anything he says or does right now to heart. Give him some space. He’ll come around.”

“Sam,” Captain Malone called from the waiting room, waving at her to come.

With her father and Celia in tow, Sam headed down the hall. She couldn’t think about what’d just happened with Nick. Right now she needed to stay focused on Freddie, the search for Reese and the Sinclair case. She’d do what she always did when life became too much for her—she’d work until she dropped from exhaustion. Nick loved her. Of that she had no doubt and in that she would have faith until she could be with him again.

An O.R. nurse had been sent to inform them that Freddie was out of surgery and in recovery. The surgeon would be down to speak with them shortly.

Upon hearing that news, Sam sagged into a chair and closed her eyes to say a silent prayer of thanks. She reached for her cell to call Gonzo, who had texted her to let her know he was back in town and at Reese’s house. “He’s out of surgery,” she said when he answered.

“And?”

“That’s all I know right now. What’s up out there?”

“No sign of Reese anywhere,” Gonzo said, his voice tight with strain. “That bastard had better hope I’m not the one to find him.”

“I want him alive,” Sam said. “Put out the word. I know he had something to do with my dad’s shooting. He’s no good to us dead.”

“You got it, L.T.”

She checked her watch. Ten after midnight. She’d been up almost twenty-four hours and was starting to feel muzzy around the edges. “Release first shift now. Let second shift go at four. Get everyone back to HQ by eight to regroup. We’ll divide the resources—half on Reese, the other half on Sinclair. Everything else is back burner for now. Any sign of Reese, I want a call.”

“I’ll put out the word, and I’ll be over there as soon as I can. Everyone wants to come.”

“I’d rather you went home and got some sleep.” She glanced at Christina across the waiting room and wondered why she was still there since Nick had left. And then it dawned on her—Christina was hoping Gonzo would show up. Sam wasn’t about to tell him his “girlfriend” was waiting for him.

“I’m not sleeping until Cruz is out of the woods.”

Knowing there was no point in arguing since she agreed with him, she said, “I’ll see you when you get here.”

She closed the phone and found her father watching her.

“What does Reese have to do with my case?”

Her stomach clenched with pain. “Let’s go out in the hallway.”

Leaving Celia to comfort Freddie’s mother, Skip followed her out of the room.

Sam willed herself to stay calm, to take deep breaths, and to keep her stomach out of the equation.

Skip looked up at her expectantly. “Tell me.”

“We found stuff in his house. Newspaper articles, pictures—”

“About the shooting?”

She nodded.

“And when were you planning to tell me this?”

“When I knew more. I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I was sure.”

“It’s a good thing I can’t throttle you right now.”

“
For what?
Wanting to protect you from more disappointment?”

“I want him caught, Sam. I really do. But once he’s behind bars, I’ll still be in this chair. Nothing’s going to change for me.”

“How can you stand knowing he’s out there living his life when you’re trapped in hell? How can you
stand
it?”

“What choice do I have? I’ve got the best detective in this city looking for the guy. I know she’s going to get him one of these days. Beyond that, I don’t give it much thought to be honest with you.”

She stared at him. What was
with
the men in her life tonight? “You don’t give it much thought?” Tossing up her hands, she said, “It’s
all
I think about.”

“That’s because you have the ability to actually
do
something about it. I don’t.”

Fixating on the wall behind him, she recalled all the near misses and dead ends she’d pursued over the last two years. “Every time I think we’re getting close, it turns into nothing. I constantly feel like I’m letting you down. I hate that.”

“Sam, you’ve never let me down. Not once in your whole life. I know you’ll get him. And when you do, we’ll have the biggest party to celebrate. The biggest party ever.”

Back in the day, Skip Holland’s parties had been the stuff of legend.

Sam bent to rest her head on his shoulder. “I’ll look forward to that. Might be sooner than we think if we can just find that bastard Reese. He’s got two cops to account for now, not to mention his family.”

“You’ll keep me posted?”

“Yeah.” She raised her head to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“And you won’t do it again?”

“No.”

“No matter what happens?”

She squeezed the finger that retained sensation. “I promise.” The elevator at the far end of the hall opened, and Sam blinked, certain her eyes had to be deceiving her. “No way,” she muttered. “No fucking way.”

“What?” Skip asked.

A woman with light hair and eyes red from crying approached them.

“I’m not sure if you remember me, Lieutenant—”

“I do. What’re you doing here?”

“I heard about Freddie,” she stammered. “On the radio. He’s…We’re friends.”

At least Sam now knew who’d been chewing on her partner’s neck.

“Are you the reason his phone was off last night?”

“He was tired—”

“He’s a
homicide detective!
He’s in here because I punished him for being late! I sent him over there, and he got shot!”

Elin broke down into sobs. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”

Suddenly, a lot of Freddie’s recent behavior made sense—the snappier clothes, the cologne, the befuddlement. The minute he was out of the hospital, Sam was going to beat the hell out of him for this.

“I just wanted to know if he’s going to be okay,” Elin said between sobs.

“We don’t know yet. He got through the surgery.”

“I don’t want to upset you any more than you already are, so I’ll go.”

“Wait.” Later, Sam would blame exhaustion for the weak moment. “Would he want you here?”

“I don’t know.” Elin wiped her face. “He was so mad this morning. About the phone. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

Sam smiled to herself. She could only imagine. If someone turned off her phone, they wouldn’t still be walking around. “Have you met his mother?”

Elin blanched, which made Sam want to laugh for the first time in hours. “No.”

“Allow me to do the honors,” she said, sending her father a shit-eating grin.

Skip rolled his eyes, but she could tell he was enjoying the show.

Thirty minutes later, the waiting room was overrun with HQ detectives who had left the search for Reese in the hands of second and third shift so they could check on Cruz. In the hallway, Gonzo huddled with Christina, speaking quietly to her while keeping a firm grip on her hand. Sam couldn’t say why the idea of the two of them together bugged her so much. It just did. She didn’t like her worlds overlapping. And then she remembered that Nick had stepped out of her world earlier.

Her stomach clenched with dread. This is exactly what she’d been so afraid of—that the moment she allowed him to become essential to her, something would happen to drive them apart. Well, she couldn’t let that happen. She
wouldn’t
let that happen.

An hour later, Freddie was delivered to a room in ICU. His mother rushed in to see him the moment he was settled. She emerged fifteen minutes later, visibly rattled. “He’s asking for you, Lieutenant.”

Sam swallowed the huge lump in her throat and went into the darkened room where the beep of machines was the only sound. Venturing a glance at Freddie, she bit back a gasp at how pale and sick he looked.
God
. She rested her hand over his.

His eyes fluttered open. “Hey,” he croaked, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I almost had him. If my phone hadn’t rang—”

“
That’s
what happened?” She struggled to keep her voice down. “How many times have we talked about that?”

He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Too many for me to forget so easily.”

“And to go in without backup? What the
hell
were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking.” He kept his eyes closed. “I wanted to get him. For you.”

Sam’s own eyes burned. “Stupid. Totally and completely insane. You’re lucky he only hit you in the shoulder.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sure it was him?”

“Yeah.”

“Has Elin Svendsen been chewing on your neck?”

His eyes flew open. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t screw with me, Cruz,” she said, glaring at him.

He released a resigned sigh. “How do you know?”

“I’m the best detective in this city. I know everything.”

“Whatever,”
he said with a grimace that had nothing to do with his injuries.

“She’s here.”

“She is? Really?”

Thrilled and relieved to have her partner back, she said, “Would I lie to you?”

“Ah,
yeah
.”

“I would not! She’s in the waiting room with your mother.”

He swallowed hard at that news. “You let her stay? You didn’t make her feel like shit and chase her out?”

“I started to,” Sam said, a bit disturbed to realize he knew her so well. “But I was too tired to chase.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I figured you’d freak.”

“You figured right, and I plan to beat the crap out of you as soon as you’re out of here.”

He laughed and then winced. “Thanks for the warning.”

“You have a right to a life outside the job,” she said begrudgingly. “But don’t ever let anyone shut off your phone again, do you hear me?”

“Don’t worry. Lesson learned the hard way.”

“So, you want to see her or what?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I really do.”

“Oy vey,”
Sam muttered on her way out the door to get Elin.

Sam pulled on to Ninth Street at three-thirty in the morning, nearly twenty-four hours after she received the call about Sinclair. Parking between her father’s house and Nick’s she debated as to whether she should wait until the morning to confront Nick. Then she looked up and saw the light on in his bedroom.

“Now,” she whispered, her breath a cloudy puff in the cold air. “I won’t sleep if I don’t.”

She used her key in his door and dropped her coat on the sofa on the way to the stairs. In his bedroom, she found him sitting up in bed asleep, a whiskey bottle on the bedside table, his hair a tousled mess and his jaw sprinkled with whiskers. She’d never been so happy to see him.

She contemplated whether she should wake him and hated not knowing if she’d be welcome. She decided to let him sleep. After a quick shower, she shut the light off and slipped into bed.

Lying there next to him, Sam felt lonely for the first time since they’d been together. More than anything, she wanted his strong arms around her. She wanted him to tell her that everything was going to be all right the way he always did. It was unsettling to realize how much she had come to depend on his steady presence. How would she ever go back to living without that? Without him?

She snuggled up to him, dropping soft kisses on his chest.

He came to slowly, and his whole body stiffened. “What’re you doing?” he asked, trying to get away.

She held him tighter, knowing if she let him escape now he might never come back. “I need you, Nick.”

“I told you. This isn’t going to work.”

“Yes, it is. It works on every possible level.” She caressed his chest. “I know you were scared earlier, and I’m sorry about that.” His silence grated on her already frazzled nerves. “Talk to me,” she said, punctuating her words with kisses. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

He was silent for a long time, so long that Sam wondered if he was going to say anything. “Every time I hear that something’s happened to a cop in this city,” he said in a halting staccato, “I’m going to think it’s you. I don’t want to live like that. I
can’t
live like that.”

“You’d rather live without me?” Her lips left a trail from his collarbone to his jaw. “Without what we have?” When he trembled, she began to feel hopeful that she was getting through to him. “I love you so much, Nick. So, so much. If you take that away from me, I’ll never get over it.” She sprinkled kisses on his face and encountered dampness on his cheek. “I know you’re sad about Julian. I am, too. I only met him once, but I could see what a special person he was. Let me help you, Nick. Let me love you.”

His lips found hers in a hungry, desperate kiss as he rolled her under him.

Sam clung to him, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with her own, tasting whiskey and Nick.

He tore his lips free. “Things happen in threes. My grandmother always said that.”

“You thought I was the third thing.”

Nodding, he rested his forehead against hers. “I knew you were chasing Reese. I was so sure it was you.”

“Freddie getting shot was the third thing.”

“How is he?”

“He’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

“Did they get Reese?”

“Not yet. But we will.”

“What if he shoots you next time?”