Fatal Justice (32 page)

“What, in the name of God, are you doing out of the hospital, Lieutenant?” he asked.

“Thank you,” Malone muttered. “She’s up to something, won’t tell me what, but I take it we’re in for a show, Chief.”

“What’ve you got, Lieutenant?” Hope asked.

Sam sensed an odd vibe coming from the assistant U.S. Attorney and wondered how long it would take to “blow over” as the captain predicted. She handed Hope the file with the license.

“The owner of the store recognized her and remembers her buying the gun,” Jeannie said. “Diandra told him she was buying it as protection against the crazies who take issue with her views. She told him she’d been repeatedly threatened. He’s willing to testify.”

“So she put the gun in her husband’s hand and told him his brother had to go?” Hope asked.

“That’s exactly what she did, but she got more than she bargained for when he also used the gun on their son.” Reaching for the radio, she called Cruz. “Bring her in, but wait to un-cuff her until you get inside.” Sam waited exactly two minutes before she called Gonzo. “Please escort Mr. Sinclair, un-cuffed, into the pit.” To the others in her office, Sam offered a gracious smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, will you join me in the hallway?”

Seconds before Freddie was due to bring Diandra in, Nick came around the corner, his handsome face tight and furious.

Sam raised a hand to stop him, using her eyes to implore.

He halted, noted the gathered group and stayed put.

Sam released a jagged sigh of relief. “Here we go,” she said softly as Diandra and Preston approached each other from opposite sides of the detectives’ pit.

As if gas had been thrown on a fire, Diandra took one look at her bedraggled husband and charged, just as Sam had hoped she would. Claws out, Diandra shrieked.
“What were you thinking?
You miserable excuse of a man! How could you shoot your
own son?
” She beat his chest with her fists. “Why?
Why?
We never said anything about Devon!”

His arms hanging loosely by his sides, Preston did nothing to defend himself against her tirade.

“Why?”

“He’s gay,” Preston said so softly it was almost inaudible.

As if he had struck her, Diandra stepped back from him. “What did you say?”

“Your son is gay. He and Tucker weren’t just roommates. They were lovers.”

“That’s not true. You’re making that up to get back at me for Julian.”

Sam was pleased that Diandra seemed to have completely forgotten where she was and who was listening. This was even better than she’d hoped. Across the room, she met Nick’s glance and was relieved to see that some of the rigidity had left his posture as he realized what was unfolding in front of him.

“I didn’t want to,” Preston sobbed. “I didn’t want to do it, but you said Julian would ruin everything if he went before Congress and told the world he was a gay man. You said we couldn’t let that happen. So when Austin told me Dev was gay, too, I just did what I thought you’d want me to do.”

“You shot Devon, Dad?” Austin asked in a dull, flat tone. He stepped through the doorway, having obviously followed his mother from the hospital to HQ.

Uh-oh
, Sam thought. He hadn’t been part of the plan.

“Mom’s book is coming out.” Preston fumbled over his words. “She’s getting her own show. She’s worked so hard. Everything she’s ever wanted is finally within reach. I couldn’t let them ruin it for her. She was afraid they’d ruin it for her.”

“I never said anything about Devon!”
Diandra repeatedly slapped Preston’s face.

Austin grabbed her from behind, pulling her off his father. “Leave him alone. For God’s sake, Mom. Hasn’t he done enough for you? Haven’t we all done enough?”

Preston descended into broken-hearted sobs.

“I’ve certainly heard enough.” Sam stepped out of the crowd and nodded to Freddie who cuffed Diandra.

“What’re you doing?” she cried, fighting him. “I didn’t shoot anyone. He did! I was with you when he shot Devon! You know that!”

“Mrs. Sinclair, you’re under arrest for accessory to the murder of Julian Sinclair,” Freddie said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Realization seemed to settle on Diandra all of a sudden.
“You fucking bitch,”
she seethed at Sam.
“You motherfucking bitch!”

“You have the right to an attorney,” Freddie continued. “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Sam turned to Preston. “Mr. Sinclair, you’re under arrest for the first-degree murder of your brother, Julian Sinclair, for the attempted murder of your son, Devon Sinclair, and for the murder of Tucker Farrell.” She repeated the Miranda warning as Freddie cuffed him. “Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Preston said wearily.

He was so defeated that Sam felt her heart go out to a murderer for the first time in her career.

“Detectives Cruz and Gonzales, please escort Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair to central booking.”

After they were gone, with Diandra shrieking and fighting the whole way, Sam turned to Austin. “I’m sorry.”

“I just can’t believe he shot Dev,” he said, the shock echoing through his voice. “She had him so under her control that he honestly thought that’s what she’d want.”

Sam rested her hand on his arm. “Your brother needs you to be strong for him. If he recovers, he’ll need you to help him through this as well as the loss of Tucker.”

Austin seemed to make an enormous effort to shake off the stupor. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll see about getting an attorney for my dad.”

“What about your mother?”

Austin fixed cold eyes on the doorway into which his parents had been taken. “She’s on her own.” He glanced at Sam. “Thank you for getting justice for my uncle and my brother and Tucker. In a million years, I never could’ve imagined that my parents were involved, but with hindsight I should’ve known my mother had something to do with it. I should’ve known that.”

“You had no reason to suspect either of them was capable of this. Go on back to your brother, Austin. That’s where you need to be right now.”

He nodded and turned to leave.

Nick stepped up to her and put his arm around her.

Sam leaned gratefully into his embrace.

With his good arm, he took the coat Captain Malone handed him and the two of them got her into it. “I have a serious bone to pick with you, Lieutenant,” Nick said.

“So I’ve heard,” Sam said, the burst of energy leaving her as suddenly as it had come.

Nick steered her toward the door.

“Hey! What’re you doing? I’ve got to do the report!”

“I’m taking you home, Samantha, so shut up before I bend you over my knee and spank the life out of you right here in front of all your coworkers.”

Since she didn’t have the energy to fight him, she rested her head on his shoulder and let him take charge. “Mmm, that sounds like fun. Can we try that sometime?”

“I said to shut up,” he growled but she could tell that she’d flustered him. She could hear it in his voice.

“Speaking of going home, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” she said, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“We’ll get to it. When you can keep your eyes open.”

“K. Don’t let me forget.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I won’t.”

After two weeks of forced medical leave, all Sam wanted to do was get back to the action, but everyone seemed to be conspiring against her. Nothing infuriated her more than being mollycoddled by a bunch of overwrought men. All she’d managed to get done on her first day back was to confirm that Devon Sinclair was expected to make a full recovery. Malone and Cruz shoved her out the door at the stroke of five o’clock as if she wouldn’t have had the good sense to go home on her own.

Home. Where was that exactly? Every time she’d tried to talk to Nick about moving in with him over the last two weeks, he’d dodged her, telling her they’d talk about it when she felt better. She was feeling
fine
, but if one more person treated her with kid gloves she was going to punch them. Her temper had been her biggest problem lately as she learned to live without caffeine. Her stomach, on the other hand, had been much better, which she hated to admit.

She’d been so bored during her leave that she’d even accompanied Nick to kick off his campaign in Richmond and to several events in southern Virginia. Following an initial burst of interest from the media about her long-ago almost-abortion, she and Nick had settled back into the usual grind of fending off just a small horde of reporters everywhere they went.

Buckling under enormous pressure, they had agreed to give Darren Tabor their first exclusive sit-down interview as a couple next week. Sam had major reservations about the idea and was doing it only to help Nick’s campaign.

She parked on Ninth Street and contemplated where she wanted to be. Her dad’s house was dark, as it often was these days as he and Celia finalized the plans for their Valentine’s Day wedding. The thought of her father getting married on Valentine’s Day made Sam want to gag, but they were so excited that she couldn’t bring herself to object. She’d even grudgingly agreed to wear the red satin bridesmaid dress Celia had chosen for Sam and her sisters. Double gag.

While her dad’s house was dark, Nick’s was lit up like he was having a party. Sam locked her car and headed for Nick’s. Inside, she found her sisters waiting for her.

“What’re you guys doing here?” she asked, dropping her coat over the sofa. It drove Nick crazy that she couldn’t hang it in the closet like a “normal” person, which was why she so enjoyed dumping it on his sofa.

“We’re helping Nick with something,” Angela said.

“With what?” Sam asked.

“Oh, a little project named Samantha,” Tracy said as she linked her arm with Sam’s and led her to the stairs. “Right this way,
Samantha
.”

“He’s the only one allowed to call me that,” Sam snapped.

“When can you go back on caffeine?” Angela asked. “I liked you better with a bad stomach and a happy disposition.”

“Bite me.” In the doorway to the bedroom, Sam stopped and gasped. “What the hell?” Hanging on the closet door was the most exquisite ice-blue gown Sam had ever seen. She broke free of her sisters and pounced on the dress. “Oh my God, is that
silk
? Where did this come from?” She let out a most un-cop-like girlish squeal. “
Oh my God!
It’s Vera Wang?
Seriously?
”

“He said, ‘the sky’s the limit,’” Tracy reported, her face set in a grave expression. “We took him very, very seriously.” She pointed to a box on the floor.

Sam screamed.
“Manolos!”
Tearing into the box, she withdrew delicate heels with beaded crystal accents—a perfect match with the dress.

“A delightful size nine,” Angela said, gazing reverently at the shoes.

“I’m a nine-and-a-half,” Sam reminded her.

“I know, but I’m a nine, and Spencer has this thing coming up at work, so don’t stretch them all out with your big old hoofs, you hear me?”

“I’ll see what I can do. And remind me to execute a warrant next week on your closet. I bet I’ll find my missing Jimmy Choos there.”

“You weren’t using them,” Angela retorted.

Sam sighed, unable to tear her eyes off the shoes. “This is better than sex.”

“You need to have better sex,” Tracy said.

“Not possible,” Sam said. “What’s this all about? I don’t get it.”

“He said to have you ready by seven, and he’ll pick you up,” Angela said.

“Pick me up? He lives here.”

Tracy shrugged. “We’re just doing what we were told. We were giving you five more minutes before we called to order you home.”

“This isn’t my home,” Sam said, looking around wistfully at the bedroom where they’d spent so many blissful nights over the last month. Their near-death adventure in the car crash had driven their passion to all new heights. Sam hadn’t known it was possible to feel so much. What was already amazing had ascended to stupendous lately, but she’d been frustrated—and baffled—by his refusal to let her tell him she was ready to officially move in. Whatever he had planned for tonight, Sam decided, there’d be no nookie until they had that conversation. She wasn’t going to let him pull back from her now. No way. Not after everything they’d been through together.

“What do you suppose she’s thinking about, staring at that big bed?” Angela asked Tracy.

“Her face got kind of red for a minute there,” Tracy replied. “I bet I know what she’s thinking about.”

“All right, you two. That’s enough. You’ve got ninety minutes to fix me up. Let’s get busy.”

Sam stood before the mirror. The dress fit as if it had been cut for her. The shoes, a little tight thanks to Angela’s scheming, wouldn’t cause blisters but even if they did, they were worth it. The girls had corralled her impetuous curls into an elegant French twist and had even given her an emergency manicure and pedicure.

“Oh wow,” Nick said, releasing a low whistle from the doorway.

Sam turned to him.

“Wow,” he whispered.

The sight of him in a tuxedo left her weak in the knees. “Not too shabby yourself, Senator.”

He stepped into the room, reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about you scheming behind my back with my sisters, although Vera and Manolo told me I should go easy on you.”

His face lifted into the smile she loved so much. “Did they now?”

“Where’s your sling?”

“Don’t need it anymore.” He made a big show of twirling his arm around, but she caught the grimace he tried to hide when his collarbone protested.

“It’ll be back on tomorrow.”

“If you insist.”

“I do. Where’re we going?”

“That’s a surprise.” He offered his good arm. “Shall we?”

Ready to go anywhere he chose to take her, Sam slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “By all means.”

He had a limo waiting at the curb.

Sam stared at it, suddenly filled with trepidation, nerves and a strange sense of foreboding. What was going on? What did he have planned? Didn’t he know she hated surprises? Shouldn’t he know that by now? The dress and the shoes were one thing…

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Where’re we going, Nick?”

He put his arms around her and brought her in close to him.

Sam was grateful that the press seemed to have taken the night off from stalking them.

“Trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then let’s go have some fun.”

She tried her best to relax. “All right.”

As the limo worked its way slowly through the congested city, he asked about her first day back to work, told her about a low-income housing bill he’d been asked to co-sponsor and refused to say another word about where they were going. They glided along Pennsylvania Avenue, past the Old Executive Office Building and came to a stop in front of the White House.

“Nick?”

“Go with the flow, babe.”

“You never said anything about the White House,” she stammered.

“Didn’t I?”

“You know you didn’t!”

“If I had, would you have come?”

“No!”

“Exactly.”

The driver came around to open the door for them. Nick scooted out ahead of her and held out a hand.

Sam sat stubbornly still, her heart racing and her stomach hurting for the first time in weeks.

“Samantha?” He gazed in at her. “Please?”

He never asked for anything, so something about that softly uttered “please” had her reaching for his hand.

“I’ll deal with you later, mister,” she growled.

“Yay. Something to look forward to.”

“This was very sneaky,” she said, oddly let down by the whole thing. She’d hoped for a rare night alone together with neither of their jobs interfering, and here they were at a work-related event, even if it wasn’t your average work-related event. “Did my sisters know where we were going?”

“Nope. I was afraid you’d find a way to beat it out of them and refuse to come.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“State dinner for the prime minister of Canada.”

As they were sucked into the crowd, Sam’s stomach hurt worse than it had in weeks.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his lips brushing her temple.

“Stomach.”

He swore under his breath and directed her to a bench outside the security area. “I shouldn’t have forced this on you. I’m sorry. I just figured once you were here you’d love it, but if you had to think about it, you’d freak. I’m sorry.”

Brushing her fingers over his hair, she leaned in to kiss him. “You handled me just right. I will think this is very cool, and yes, I would’ve freaked if I had known where we were going.”

Clutching her hand, he said, “Then what’s wrong? Why do you still look so worried?”

“It’s just that all these people, even the president and first lady. They know. About me. About what happened years ago.”

“Sam, honey, no one will be thinking about that tonight. I promise you. Let’s just go in there and act like we belong there. Can we do that?”

“I guess so.”

“We don’t have to. If you don’t feel up to it, we’ll go somewhere else and have dinner just the two of us.”

“You can’t diss the president of the United States,” she said with a droll smile.

“Oh no? Watch me.”

“Thank you for being willing to bolt, but that’s not necessary.” She stood up and held out a hand to him. “Let’s go, Senator. Duty calls.”

He flashed her that one-in-a-million smile, and her nerves disappeared. As long as he was right there with her, she could get through anything. Even a state dinner at the freaking White House.

Hours later, they had been wined and dined and dazzled by the pomp, the ceremony, the sheer magic of the White House. Sam had to admit that she was glad she’d come, even if this was
so
not her scene. It was something she’d remember always.

And now, as a reward for her astounding patience with the formal aspects of the evening’s program, she had Nick’s arms tight around her as they moved together on the crowded dance floor.

She looked up at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“I know. Can we do it a little later?”

“As long as we do it tonight, that’s fine.”

“Oh, we’ll do it, all right.”

Laughing, she poked him in the belly. “Do you ever think about anything else?”

“Not really and definitely not since the first second I saw you in that dress.”

Over his shoulder, one of the White House valets seemed to be trying to get his attention. “Friend of yours?” Sam asked, nodding to the other man.

The valet gestured them over to where he stood by the door to the ballroom.

Baffled, Sam held Nick’s hand and followed him.

“Everything’s all set, Senator. Right this way.”

“Thank you, Mike.”

The older man’s smile lit up his face. “You’re quite welcome, sir.”

“What’s going on, Nick?”

He brought his lips down close to her ear. “Just come with me, and try not to make a scene, okay?”

She scowled at him but did as he asked. They followed Mike through several corridors before coming to a stop at a set of French doors.

Mike opened them and gestured for Sam and Nick to go out ahead of him. “I’ll wait for you right here, Senator.” He flashed another dazzling smile. “You take your time now, you hear?”

Nick shook his hand on the way by. “Thanks again, Mike.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

Outside, Nick slipped his tuxedo jacket over Sam’s bare shoulders.

Steeped in his essence, Sam burrowed into his warm jacket as the faint scent of something else filled her senses. Roses. Even out of season, the fragrance drifted lightly through the air. She gasped. “Oh, Nick, is this the Rose Garden?”

“It is. What do you think?”

The light of a three-quarter moon silvered the leaves and grass in the garden where the roses lay dormant for the winter.

“It’s amazing. How did you do this?”

“I told you. The deputy chief of staff is a buddy of mine.”

“Who
isn’t
a buddy of yours?”

His sheepish grin touched her heart.

“What’re we doing out here?”

“Come over here, and I’ll tell you.” He led her to a stone bench along one of the walkways and sat next to her. “Are you warm enough?”

She nodded.

“I had a meeting today with the chair and vice chair of the Democratic National Committee.”

“What did they want?”

“To gauge my interest in a run for the White House in four years.”

Sam’s mouth fell open. “They did not.”

He laughed at her reaction. “They really did.”

“But…I don’t get…I mean…
Wow
.”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling again. “That’s what I said, too.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I suggested they talk to me in a year or two when I have a chance to see how things go in the Senate. My numbers are really good right now, but I’m just getting started. Who knows what they’ll be a year from now?”

“I’m sure they’ll be higher than ever.”

“You have such faith in me, Sam.”

“Of course I do. There’s nothing you can’t do when you set your mind to it.”

“Only if I have you by my side.” All at once, he dropped to his knees in front of her.