Fatal Justice (19 page)

“Anyone home?” she called.

“In here,” Skip replied from the kitchen. “Is that my wayward daughter who used to live here?”

“Very funny.” Sam bent to kiss his cheek. “I still live here.”

“I’ve been wondering why that is when you’ve gotten a much better offer from the handsome guy down the street.”

“I’m thinking about the handsome guy’s better offer.”

“Are you now?”

She shrugged. “It is a pretty good offer. And he does have a Jacuzzi.”

“You’re so easy,” Skip said, laughing. “I hope you’re not holding out because of me. I’m in good hands with Celia. There’s no need for you to be here if you’d rather be somewhere else.”

“I’m just trying to take it slow,” Sam said. “I don’t want to rush into anything.”

“Understandable. After all, if you were to rush in, you might end up on the front page of the
Post
every other day, and that would kind of suck.”

“You’re very funny tonight, Skippy.” Sam reached for a soda in the fridge. “What’s the occasion?”

“You gonna tell me about it?”

She paused in the midst of opening the bottle. “What?”

He shot her a “you know” look.

Swallowing hard, she said, “How did you hear about it?”

“The question is, why didn’t I hear about it from you?”

“I’ve been in major denial mode.”

“What did Stahl recommend?”

“Two weeks unpaid suspension, reduction to detective.”

Skip winced. “No way Conklin will let that happen.”

“Nothing I can do about it now. I was straight up with them in the hearing, told them exactly how it went down.”

“That’s the best strategy, which I would’ve told you if you hadn’t kept me in the dark—again. Becoming kind of a disturbing pattern between us.”

The comment went straight to her heart because he was right. They’d always been in sync with each other, and she hadn’t been holding up her end of the deal lately.

“If you treat me like an invalid, that’s how I feel, Sam. I don’t want you thinking you have to protect me from this crap. It doesn’t get much more crappy than living like this.”

“I’m sorry.” She dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. “I don’t mean to keep stuff from you. I was hoping this was gonna go away before it got this far.”

“Should’ve known better with Stahl involved.”

“I know.”

“Did you tell Nick?”

Sam looked up at him with a rueful expression.

“Sam! Are you
kidding me?
You’ve got IAB poking into your relationship with him and you don’t think he needs to know that?”

“He’s been so down about John and now Julian and wound up about what happened to Cruz. And then the whole mess with Reese today. I was afraid it might be one thing too many, you know?”

“You’re playing with fire, baby girl. That man is one to be reckoned with. If you think he’s going to put up with you keeping things from him, you’re deluding yourself.”

Sam knew he was right. “I’ll tell him tonight. It’ll be fine.” She got up and kissed him. “I’ve got to go. I’m making dinner.”

“You?
Cooking?
”

“You really ought to consider a career in stand-up comedy—without the stand-up part of course.”

“Now who’s being funny? Let me know the minute you hear.”

“I will. Try not to worry too much. Whatever happens, Nick was worth it.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.”

“It’s the
only
way to look at it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

After she packed a bag of clothes for the next day, she walked back over to Nick’s, thinking about what her father had said. At this point, Nick would probably be furious that she’d waited so long to tell him about the IAB hearing. She’d have to see how the evening unfolded to determine if there’d be a good time to tell him. In the meantime, after dinner she would look into Sanducci.

By the time Nick got home an hour later, Sam was ready for him. She had enjoyed playing house in his primo kitchen and had even indulged in a little fantasizing about what it might be like to really live there rather than just spending most nights in his bed. Her trip down fantasy lane had also helped to keep her mind off the outcome of the hearing. Shouldn’t she have heard something by now?

“Hey, babe,” Nick called when he came in. “Sorry I’m so late. I got sucked into a Democratic Caucus planning meeting.” He stopped short at the kitchen door. “Did you
cook?
”

“Yep,” she said, standing at the stove. “You don’t need to sound
that
surprised.”

He slid his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. “I didn’t think you knew how to turn on the stove.”

She pushed her butt into him. “I know how to turn on a lot of things.”

Laughing, he tightened his hold on her. “You sure do.” He buried his face in her hair. “I’m so damned glad to see you, Samantha. After everything today with Reese. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

She turned to face him and curled her arms around his neck. This would be a great time to tell him about the IAB hearing, except that he looked like himself again for the first time in days. Was it such a crime to want him to relax and enjoy the evening? “Everything’s fine.”

He dipped his head to kiss her. “It is now that I’m with you. I love finding you here when I come home.”

She divested him of his tie and released his top buttons. “I decided to leave work on time for once.”

“What’s the occasion?”

Another golden opportunity. “No occasion. I just felt like cooking.” She reached for the check she’d found on the counter earlier and waved it at him. “Got anything you want to tell me?”

Staring at the check, his face became unreadable. “You knew about that. You signed for it.”

“What’re you going to do with it?”

“Part of me wants to give it all away.”

Her heart went out to him. The pain of John’s loss was still so present. “What would John want you to do with it?”

“He’d want me to enjoy being a millionaire for a while,” he said without hesitation.

“Then that’s what you ought to do.”

“How can I enjoy it when he had to die for it to happen? How do I do that?”

Sam reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “He loved you, Nick. He’d want you to be happy.”

“I talked to Graham today, told him I’d gotten the money. He said he’d invest it for me if I wanted him to.”

“Why don’t you do that? Give it to him and forget about it.”

“I guess I will. We have everything we need, right?”

“And then some.”

He surprised her when he lifted her onto the center island and stepped between her legs. “Do we have to eat right now?”

“You’re turning into a regular sex fiend, Senator,” she said, relieved by the return of his playful mood.

“It’s your influence.” He zeroed in on her neck.

She tilted her head to give him better access. “I need to go back to work after dinner.”

“Always with the work,” he said, exasperated. “I’m proposing a bill requiring one night a week with no work, no commitments, no obligations, just you and me. We’ll call it the Cappuano-Holland To Hell With Work Law.” He kissed her. “All those in favor?”

“Mmm,” she said against his lips. “Me. Definitely in favor. Holland-Cappuano has a better ring, though.”

He smiled. “Passed. Unanimously.” Framing her face with his hands, he delved deeper, teasing with his tongue. “Speaking of rings, you know what sounds even better? Cappuano-Cappuano.”

Taken aback, Sam stared at him.

“Someday?” he asked with a hopeful, sheepish grin that made her melt.

“Maybe,” she stammered. “Someday. But I’m not changing my name.”

“Mmm. Progress.” His pleasure came through in a deep, passionate kiss.

Her cell phone interrupted them.

She pulled back from him to reach for it.

“We have a law!”

“Sorry,” she said. “I really need to take this. Holland.”

“Hey, it’s Conklin.”

Sam held her breath. “What’s up?”

“I just now got out of the deliberations.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, to call it heated would be an understatement. The suspension was reduced to two days unpaid, effective immediately. That was the best I could do.”

She could live with that. Swallowing hard, she said, “And the other?”

“We’re meeting again in the morning to discuss it.”

Her heart sank. “What’s the hang up?”

“Andrews wanted to think on it overnight.”

Sam kept an eye on Nick as he checked the pots on the stove. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s a reasonable guy. You’re going to need to watch out for Stahl, though. He really has it in for you. The two-day suspension infuriated him.”

“Well, thanks for letting me know.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I have more.”

Sam ended the call and clutched the phone to her chest. Her heart raced with anxiety. And then Nick turned and smiled, chasing away her worries.

“Everything okay, babe?”

“Everything’s just fine,” she said, surprised to realize it was true. Everything was fine as long as she had him. He was indeed so totally worth it. She sent him a saucy grin. “You know that bill we passed before?”

He popped a bite of carrot from the salad into his mouth. “Yep.”

“Can we make it effective as of tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

She held out her arms to him. “To hell with work.”

Sam woke up the next morning to the feel of Nick’s lips laying a path up her back. Keeping her eyes closed, she wallowed in the sensation until she remembered the suspension.

“Why’d you just get all tense on me?”

“No reason,” she said, not ready to leave the bubble they’d been in since the night before.

“You need to get going. You’re going to be late.”

“I’m working from home today.”

“How come?”

She bit back the guilt. “I want to dig into that lead you gave me yesterday, and I need to get to some other research that’s easier to do at my dad’s than at HQ. Plus I want to bounce a few things off him.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” He kissed her and got up. “Graham told me yesterday that Julian’s funeral is Saturday in Cambridge. He’s chartering a plane to take the family. He asked if we’d like to join them. I told him I’d check with you.”

“That’d be good. If we haven’t closed the case by then, I’ll need to go to the funeral anyway.”

“And if you have?”

“Then I’ll go to be there for you.” She studied his fine naked form. “I wish you didn’t have to go to work.”

He emerged from the closet with a suit and dress shirt. “Why?” he asked with a salacious grin. “What would you do with me if you had me to yourself all day?”

“It sure would be nice to find out. We haven’t had a whole day off since we’ve been together.”

Leaning over to kiss her once more, he said, “We’ll have to fix that. Soon. But today, I have two hundred Girl Scouts coming from Norfolk to tour the Capitol and have lunch with me.”

“I’m jealous,” she said with a pout.

“Don’t be. You’re the only girl I love.” He left her with a smile and went to take a shower.

Only Nick could’ve made her forget, even for a few minutes, that she’d been suspended from her job and faced a possible reduction in rank. Even one level would be a bitter pill to swallow. But two.
Ugh, I can’t even think about it.
She reached for her cell phone to call Gonzo. “Hey,” she said when he answered. “How are you?”

“Better question is how are
you?
I heard about the suspension.”

“Could’ve been worse. Between us, I’m working from my dad’s today. Can you put out the word that I’m looking for help with Sinclair?”

“Sure, no problem. The press is clamoring for info on the investigation. Rumor has it the chief is on the warpath. Wants an arrest and wants it now.”

“Well, let’s get him one. Do me a favor—do a run on a Tony Sanducci. He’s a big-time abortion protestor. Meet me at my dad’s around ten?”

“You got it. I’ll round up the cavalry.”

“Keep it on the down low.” They both knew she’d be royally screwed if she got caught conducting department business while on suspension.

“Will do.”

An hour later, Nick was signing a stack of letters to constituents when Christina came in bearing coffee. He noticed she looked tired. “Late night?”

“Sort of. Tommy was in rare form last night.”

“Please,” Nick said. “Spare me the details.”

“How’s Sam?”

“Fine,” he said, pleased that she’d asked. That, too, was progress. “She’s seen a lot over the years, so she bounces back from something traumatic like what happened yesterday a lot faster than most people would.”

“She must be pissed, though. Tommy was enraged over it.”

Not sure what Christina was getting at, he said, “I think she was more disappointed that she wasn’t able to talk Reese out of the gun in time. Apparently, she almost had him when SWAT showed up.”

Christina looked at him like he was speaking Greek. “I mean over the suspension. Tommy said it was totally bogus. You helped them close the O’Connor case and now to have Internal Affairs investigating your relationship! Let’s just hope the media doesn’t catch wind of it.”

Nick felt like she had punched him. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s hope not.” He stood up and reached for his new overcoat. “What time do the Girl Scouts get here?”

“At noon. Why?”

“I’ll be back before then.”

“Where’re you going?” she asked, baffled.

“I’ll be back.”

“Tony Sanducci,” Gonzo said, “age thirty-nine, native of Cleveland, Ohio. He’s been actively protesting abortion for the last decade. Suspected in several violent altercations at abortion clinics, but none of the charges stuck. His rich parents apparently hire a team of high-priced lawyers who always get him off.

“Married, four children, lives outside of Cleveland but opened a storefront in the District, on New York Avenue, three weeks ago and has been operating out of there since then. Has a legion of loyal followers who read his daily blog by the thousands and take their orders directly from him. Works outside the boundaries of the mainstream movement, which says it disapproves of his tactics but doesn’t do anything to stop him.”

“Passive approval,” Sam said.

“Exactly,” Gonzo said. “His editorial in the
Washington Post
was a thinly veiled hate rant. It was clear that he’d do anything to keep Sinclair off the court.”

“We need to talk to him,” Sam said. “Let’s figure out who his most faithful followers are, too. Those who inspire legions of zealots have people in their ranks who’d do anything for the leader. He may not have put out the word he wanted Sinclair killed, but reading that editorial, it’d be hard not to get that message.”

“I can’t believe the
Post
even printed it,” Jeannie said.

“Freedom of speech,” Skip said.

“I’d also like to know why the Secret Service offered protection,” Sam said. “Did they know of specific threats?”

“When you have a million people descending on the city to protest a specific nominee, that warrants protection,” Skip said.

“You gotta wonder if Sinclair had all the info about the threats when he turned down protection,” Gonzo said. He held up a print out of the
Post
article. “Did he see this?”

“Good question,” Sam concurred.

A knock on the front door interrupted them. She got up to get it and found Cruz on the porch.

“Hey,” he said. “I hear we’re working from the home office today.”

“What’re you doing here?” He was pale and drawn, and his arm was in a sling. “You’re still on medical leave.”

“Nothing wrong with my brain.”

“Come in,” Sam said.

He turned and waved to the driver of a car idling in the street.

Sam looked closer and saw that Elin had driven him. “Still seeing the phone-shutter-offer, huh?”

“I told you it’s not going to happen again,” he said through gritted teeth. “Can we drop it?”

“Eventually,” she said with a grin, delighted to see him back on his feet.

“You okay after everything with Reese?” he asked.

“You know how it goes. Shit happens. He didn’t shoot my dad.”

“I heard that, too. We’ll dig into the prior tenants the minute we close Sinclair.”

She nodded, grateful for his unwavering support. “Let’s get you up to speed.”

The others greeted Cruz warmly and updated him on the case.

“Moving on to Diandra,” Sam said. “What’d you find out, Jeannie?”

“She’s fifty-six, grew up in Missouri. The dad was a fundamentalist Christian minister, the mother a homemaker. Diandra went to Princeton, studied English literature. Met Preston there thirty years ago. Two sons, Devon and Austin. Began spewing her special brand of hatred as a newspaper columnist seventeen years ago. Moved to TV thirteen years ago.”

“Right around the same time as the rift formed with her husband’s homosexual brother,” Sam said. “Interesting timing.”

Jeannie nodded. “I thought the same thing.”

“I’d like to get her downtown for a more in-depth interview,” Sam said. “I keep going back to the irrational hatred she had for Julian over his sexual orientation. It just seems so over the top to me.”

“Conservative Christians are very clear on homosexuality,” Jeannie said. “And growing up as she did with a minister father, this stuff was probably pounded into her head all her life. I looked into her father’s background. He wrote a book twenty years ago about how homosexuality was going to unravel the fabric of our country. It made quite a stir at the time. Apparently, her book is an update of his.”

“So she comes by her hatred naturally,” Sam said, feeling the buzz that came from uncovering a juicy lead. “We definitely need to have another conversation with her.” She growled with frustration. “Freaking suspension! I want to go at her myself.”

“We can handle it,” Gonzo said, looking to Jeannie who nodded in agreement. “We can also talk to Sanducci.”