Whiplash (42 page)

"Not going to answer that, are you? I don't blame you. When you and I held her hands as she was dying, I knew she wished she could have spent her life with you, not me. At her last breath, her last instant of life, it was you she looked at, Alex, not me."

Valenti stared up at the man he'd tried to protect from this for so many years, but he knew after all, he'd always known. It had been years ago when he and Nikki had decided to keep their families together, and he'd hurt so deeply he didn't believe he would ever stop regretting that this man was her husband and not him, that her name was Hoffman, not Valenti.

But the years passed, and the despair lessened, and what took its place was an abiding love for his own wife and his magnificent children. Now he was a grandfather, and he knew he was loved-Elyssa had danced when they said he was going to live. There was only Elyssa now, he thought, and he felt the power of his feelings for her press deep. He couldn't remember when she'd become the most important person in his life. He wondered what would have happened if he had left with Nikki all those years ago when their passion seemed the only worthwhile emotion in life, when giving in to what they felt seemed the only right thing to do? How long had that pain lasted? Valenti couldn't remember now. Nor could Nikki. They'd spoken of it when she knew her death was close, and they'd even laughed a bit about their star-crossed passion that had faded, of course, through the years. "Youth," she'd said, "youth is a wonderful dream that doesn't last. What is vital in youth doesn't stay as important as we get older, now does it?"

Then David had come into the hospital room and she'd died a few minutes later, with both of the men who'd loved her holding her hands.

What had Dave said? Something about how Nikki had looked at him, Alex, when she'd died and not at Dave?

"No," he said, "I remember clearly it was you Nikki was looking at the moment she died. She whispered good-bye to you with her last breath."

Hoffman sneered. "You have a convenient memory, Alex. How much does Elyssa know of your feelings for my wife?"

Valenti felt a great grief settle over him, a heavy grief because he knew it was Elyssa's grief and David's grief as well. They'd both known, they'd both watched, both waited. He said slowly, "At the beginning, all those years ago, Nikki and I decided to keep our families together. How can you believe Nikki wouldn't do that? She was filled with honor, with goodness.

"When she became ill, Nikki told me she'd come to love you more than she'd ever loved me, because your love for each other was real, not an old fantasy."

"You're a liar!" Hoffman straightened and nodded over to the Secret Service agents who were watching him.

Valenti said slowly, "Why do you think I would lie about that?"

"Because she told me, damn you to hell! I don't think she planned to, but she was weak and confused, even delirious near the end. She told me Aiden is yours, not mine. Nikki married me only because she couldn't have you. You'd already married Elyssa, but did that matter? Oh, no, she still had to have your child!"

Valenti slowly shook his head back and forth on the hard pillow. "No, no, that's impossible."

"You slept with her in high school, didn't you? Did you meet during college as well?"

"Back then we all slept with each other, you know that, Dave. Sex was as common as eating and sleeping, it was simple recreation. Surely you slept with college girls before you met Nikki? Before you married?"

"Yes, but you and Nikki, it was more between the two of you! Aiden was born a year and a half after Nikki and I were married. I've done the blood tests, Alex, I know for a fact I'm not his father. You are."

He saw the instant Valenti believed him, accepted it. The honorable, forthright man he liked to think he was had a bastard son. Valenti said slowly, "I didn't know, never even guessed. You believe I'm lying to you? You think Nikki told me and I decided to ignore it? Well, she didn't, never even hinted, never said a word, even during that brief time we wanted to go away together.

"My God, David, I've always thought Aiden looked like you."

"You know what, you bastard? Nikki did come to love me, I knew it, and so I didn't punish her by forcing you out of our lives. I allowed all of us to become such close friends, your children and mine, like cousins. Two big loving families, and the Richardses too, all the boys playing together. I remember watching them and thanking the Lord they were my sons, mine and Nikki's, together. But of course they weren't. It was a fantasy.

"When she went into the hospital for the last time, I finally believed she loved me. But then there you were not even three days later, sitting beside her, stroking your hands through her hair, what was left of it, whispering to her."

David Hoffman stared down at him, wondered in that moment if he hated Valenti more than he'd loved his wife.

He gave a low laugh, one filled with pain at the sharp memory of her death. "You know what, Alex? When she came back, Savich believed she was trying to protect me, but it was you, always you. Even beyond death, she was trying to protect you, from me. I always came in second. I hated it. But then she spoke to Savich, and gave me a gift, an opportunity, so fitting, so perfect, it was too good to let pass. That's when I decided what I was going to do."

Valenti looked into his friend's eyes, but he simply couldn't accept it. "Are you telling me you sabotaged your own car? That you tried to kill me?"

David Hoffman slowly rose. "Ah, you're looking at me like I'm a monster, Alex. If only you'd died when the Brabus hit that oak tree. I would have given one of the most eloquent eulogies at your lavish funeral, reminded all the mourners of what a wonderful family man you were. And I would have been thanking Nikki for making it all possible. Unfortunately, you survived. I've lost to you yet again."

"There was never anything to lose. You've become obsessed, Dave-"

"Shut up, for once, shut up! There's nothing wrong with me, nothing. Listen to me. I came to tell you it was I who tried to kill you, but I will not try again."

Valenti felt nauseated, from physical pain, from the drugs, from this soul-leaching hatred, this obsession, yes, that's exactly what it was, and surely it was insanity too, and he was the focus of it. Had Nikki really spoken to Savich? Had she really been trying to warn him? He whispered, "You know it will all come out, Dave."

"Eventually, perhaps. Agent Savich suspects some of it. Will he find evidence of what I did? I was very careful, but who knows?

"Now, Alex, I'm asking you not to tell anyone what I've told you. I don't ask it for myself, but for both our families, for Elyssa, for
all
of your sons, and for your own sake. This is not what either of us want to be remembered for, is it?"

Valenti wondered how his body could keep breathing. He couldn't believe this, just couldn't, and now David wanted him to keep silent? He asked him, "What would happen to you, Dave?"

"Do you know, I've decided to join Nikki. Since I won't try to kill you again, you'll probably live for a good long time and that means I'll have years with her before you show up."

"Why did you tell me in the first place, then?"

"You had to know," Hoffman said. "I wanted to watch your face as I told you why I wanted to kill you, why I've hated you more years than I can remember, wanted you to know the truth about your bastard son.

"You took everything that should have been mine, my wife, even my first-born son. I had to call you friend, had to laugh with you, I had to feign being sorry when misfortune struck you. That's all over now. When I leave this room, I have no desire to ever see you again." He paused, gave a sharp laugh, and added, "Please don't give a eulogy at my memorial."

The vice president looked at him, deep shadows in his eyes, memories ricocheting in his brain, memories and pain and what-would-have-beens. He didn't want to accept what David Hoffman had confessed because it meant so much of what he had cherished for so many years was a lie. Aiden was his son? He could barely get his mind around that fact.

He was tired. He hurt. He wanted Elyssa. She would know what to do. Above all, he was so sad he wanted to weep. He closed his eyes and saw Aiden's face in his mind.
Nikki, I'm so sorry.

He heard the door open. "I won't even come to your funeral," he said, and heard the door close. He saw David Hoffman speak briefly to the Secret Service agents, then turn and leave. The tears he refused to shed burned his eyes and his throat. He swallowed, but the damned tears burned hotter. He raised his hand to pick up the glass of water.

"Sir, please give me that glass."

Valenti stared at Sherlock as she walked quickly from the small bathroom, stared at her hand as she quickly picked up the water glass. "You're not a Secret Service agent, are you?"

"No sir, I'm not. I'm FBI. I will ask your nurse to bring you water, all right?"

Sherlock saw realization dawn in his eyes, followed by a look of utter desolation. He looked, she thought, unutterably weary.

Valenti whispered, "He lied."

"Oh, yes." She lightly touched her fingertips to his forearm. "It will be all right, sir. I will tell your wife she can see you now, all right?"

Alex Valenti slowly nodded. "Yes, I need to see my wife. Thank you."

Secret Service Agent Alma Stone came into the room, carefully took the glass from Sherlock, fitted a lid tightly over it, and wrote her name, the time, and the date on a card and taped it to the glass.

Sherlock nodded and walked quickly toward the ICU doors. She punched a single number on her cell. "Dillon? It's done. The senator is on his way down. You can take him."

She slipped her cell back into her jacket pocket, next to a small recorder.

GEORGETOWN

Monday evening

"Excellent pizza," Bowie announced when he'd finished off the last slice of deep-dish pepperoni with cheese baked into the crust. He looked over at the remains of Savich's pizza-artichokes, olives, peppers, onions, and just about every other vegetable known to man. He called out, "How about you, kiddo, you full yet?"

Georgie didn't hear him. She was on the floor with Sean and Astro, their slices of pizza cold and forgotten as they took turns designing their own houses on JumpStart World. They were busy arguing over Sean's selection of bright red shag carpeting in his living room.

Sherlock said, "Would you like to try the Big Dog's coffee, Bowie? I have to admit, Starbucks would pay Dillon big bucks for his skill with the coffee bean. Erin, how about you?"

Savich toasted Erin with his teacup. "This is a nice dark oolong, Erin. Would you like to give that a try instead?"

Erin sighed. "Yes, thanks, I guess I'd better go the tea route, otherwise I'll be bouncing off the ceiling half the night. I doubt if either Sean or Georgie will spare us in the morning."

Sherlock said, "Since Georgie's sleeping in Sean's room, maybe they'll play awhile before they drag us out of bed. For you and Bowie-" She paused a moment. "Well, there's a guest bedroom across from Sean's room. And this sofa pulls out into a double bed."

Bowie said easily, "We can decide about that later. Thanks for letting us crash, Sherlock."

They listened a moment to Sean telling Georgie, "I don't think Astro's going to like you having a cat for your pet, Georgie. He might bite it good and you'd be mad."

"Astro won't try to hurt my cat. Crookshanks is a really big cat. She could bat Astro around, make him sorry he was ever born a little doofus dog."

"Astro's not a doofus! Papa, is Astro a doofus?"

"Not the last time I checked. Best beg Georgie to choose a kitten, though, Sean. That way, Astro will have time to train it."

Sean and Georgie were soon going at it again, this time over kitchen appliances.

Sherlock said, "Sean believes the purpose of a microwave is to present him with popcorn, so you can't do without one of those, Georgie." To Bowie, "You and Erin have had a long day, the flight down with Georgie, the hospital."

"There are more media there than patients," Bowie said, shaking his head, "trying to get in to see the family, the vice president's spokesperson, anyone who will step in front of a camera."

"Actually, it's the A Team," Savich said as he handed Erin a cup of tea and Bowie a cup of coffee that had Bowie smiling blissfully just smelling the aroma. "The B Team is hounding the Hoffman family and staff. This isn't going to blow over for a very long time."

Sherlock raised her cup. "At least our part in it is all over."

Bowie said after a moment, "Erin got to meet Uncle Alex."

"Poor man," Erin said, shaking her head. "I felt so sorry for him, but he was charming to me, said he wished they'd let Georgie in to give him a kiss." She laid her hand on Bowie's thigh. "The Valentis and your family are wonderful, Bowie."

"I think they sort of like you too."

"Ah, Bowie, your mom wants me to have lunch with her tomorrow."

Bowie's fingers froze on his coffee mug. "Lunch, you said? With my mom?"

"Yep. She asked me if I liked French. When I said I only ate fried snails under extreme duress, she heaved a sigh of relief and said she'd much rather eat Mexican."