Chapter Twenty-Two
Nick broke the kiss, laughing, and Sam joined him, wincing when the wounds on her head protested.
“You people are unbelievable,” Scotty said.
“What’s the problem?” Skip asked as he followed his grandson into the room.
“Them.” Scotty gestured to the bed. “They are the problem. Leave them alone for five minutes, and they end up making out. They’re setting a terrible example for their impressionable son. At this rate, I’ll be a father by eighteen.”
“No, you won’t,” Nick said emphatically. As the product of teenage parents, that was a hot-button issue for him.
“They are married,” Celia said when she joined them. “They should be allowed to kiss whenever they want, especially after they waited so long to find each other again.”
“Stop making excuses for them,” Scotty said. “They’re unseemly. And yes, that’s one of our vocabulary words this week. My parents are unseemly. See? I can even use it in a sentence.”
Sam and Nick rocked with laughter.
Their kid was too damned much, and she loved him. “Come here and see me.” She held out a hand to him.
“Get the guy out of your bed, and I’ll come see you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said to Nick. “But my kid needs me so you have to go. Thanks for the good time. I’ll call you the next time the kid isn’t around.”
“You do that.” Nick kissed her again before he got up to cede his spot to Scotty.
“Buzz killer,” he muttered to his son.
“Horndog,” Scotty shot back.
Sam let out a squeak of outrage. “Scotty! Where did you hear that?”
“Duh,” he said. “School. That’s what you get for sending me there.”
“That’s twenty bucks in the swear jar.”
“Take it off your tab.”
Sam scowled at her son. “Apologize to your father. That’s not a nice thing to say.”
“Is it not true?”
“Scott Dunlap Cappuano.”
“She’s pulling out the big guns, bud,” Skip said. “I’d go ahead and apologize and get it over with.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
“That’s okay, buddy. It is kinda true.”
“Nick!”
“What? How is that any different than you telling him it’s okay to hate algebra?”
“It’s way different! All normal people hate algebra!”
“Um, no, that’s not true,” Nick said.
Scotty folded his arms and shook his head. “You guys suck at this.” To Celia, he said, “Is there a class or something they can take before they totally mess me up?”
Celia laughed so hard she couldn’t reply, so she shook her head.
“I think you’re stuck with them, pal,” Skip said. “I’ll do what I can to offset the damage.”
“Thank God for you, Gramps.”
Skip’s eyes went soft with emotion, the way they always did when Scotty called him that.
They were, Sam thought, exactly what she needed to keep her from going insane at being pulled off the case at such a critical juncture.
Freddie poked his head in. “Is it safe to come into the lion’s den?”
“I think we’ve declawed her for now,” Nick said. “But you know her. The claws grow back quick.”
“Keep talking,” Sam said to her husband. “You’ll pay for this in ways I’m not allowed to mention in front of the boy. It would be unseemly.”
“Ugh,” Scotty said. “Disgusting.”
“Glad to see everything’s normal around here,” Freddie said as he approached Sam’s bed.
“Everything is not normal. We have homicidal animals taking people out in our city, and I’m stuck here when I need to be out there looking for them. Tell everyone to get over here in thirty minutes. We need to regroup. Call Avery and Jesse Best and everyone.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He left the room to see to her orders.
“Scotty needs to go home and get ready for school tomorrow,” Sam said.
“I shouldn’t have to go to school when my mom is in the hospital.”
“Nice try,” Sam said, “but you’re going to school.”
“I’ll speak to his detail about getting him home,” Nick said.
“Tracy offered to stay with him,” Sam said of her eldest sister, who’d been there earlier with their other sister, Angela.
“I’ll call her.” Nick bent over the rail to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry about anything.”
“Right,” Sam said. “What in the world do I have to be worried about?”
“Not a thing,” he said, flashing that irresistible smile.
“Come here and see me,” Sam said to her son.
He sat next to her on the bed.
Sam took hold of his hand. “I’m sorry if I scared you, and I’m sorry about the kissing. And the swearing.”
“It’s okay. You had a staple gun pointed at your head. I’d probably swear, too.”
Chuckling, she said, “Give me a hug, and make it a good one. I’m stuck here all night.”
He leaned into her embrace and stayed there while she kissed him and stroked his hair. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “Even if you’re unseemly.”
Smiling, Sam said, “Try to get some sleep, and don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Believe me, I can tell.”
She gave his hair a playful tug, and then released him. “Be good for Tracy. She’ll tell me if you give her any grief.”
“No, she won’t,” he said with a smug grin. “She’s on my side.”
“That’s what you think. Get going.”
“I’ll call to check on you in the morning,” he said. “If you don’t want to do further psychological harm to your son, answer the phone.”
“You got it.”
After Scotty left the room, Skip wheeled his chair closer to her bed. “That kid of yours is a character.”
“Isn’t he something? He cracks me up. I hope we aren’t doing permanent damage with all the crazy crap that goes on in our lives.”
“Nah, you’re teaching him how to roll with the punches. He’ll be able to handle anything after dealing with you two.”
“Gee, thanks. I think there was a compliment in there somewhere.”
“Take it as the highest of compliments. You’re showing him an example of a loving marriage and the highest commitment to public service.”
Touched by her dad’s words of praise, Sam went for levity. “And I’m teaching him to swear like a sailor.”
“That’s probably my fault. Where do you think you learned it?”
Sam laughed. “It’s in my DNA.”
“Indeed, it is, baby girl. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me, too. I wish I’d gotten them before I got broadsided.”
“You’ll get them. It’s only a matter of time.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. How many more people will have to die before we find them?” She ached thinking of little Vanessa Marchand—and her poor father.
When Freddie came back into the room, Sam said, “What do we know about Trey Marchand?”
Gonzo came in right behind him. “I did a full run on him. No priors, no record of any kind. He works in the Caps front office. The Star is reporting that the team is taking care of everything he needs, including funeral expenses.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Sam felt better to know he had no criminal record and that he was being supported after his unimaginable loss.
Nick came back into the room. “Scotty is on the way home, and Brant told me the hospital has been overtaken by media. They had to call in extra security to deal with it.”
“That’s just great,” Sam muttered.
“You guys are too popular for your own good,” Gonzo said.
Nick sat next to her on the bed and took her hand, giving it a squeeze that let her know she wasn’t alone in this. Thank God they had each other to cling to as they waded through the swamp full of gators that their life had become in the last few years.
“Dad, can you stay until everyone gets here? We could use your help.”
“As long as my date doesn’t mind staying, I’m all yours.”
“Fine by me,” Celia said. “Whatever you need, Sam.”
Within thirty minutes, her hospital room was filled to the gills with law enforcement officers.
Sam pointed to Jeannie. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
“I’ve run the financials of Captain Wallack, Sergeant Offenbach and the latest victims. Nothing unusual popped for any of them. It’s interesting to note there’s been no activity on any of Wallack’s accounts in the two weeks since he went missing.”
“Where are we in that investigation?”
“Early stages,” Malone said. “But we have six detectives assigned to it.”
“Have we figured out what Offenbach was doing in Atlantic City?” Sam asked.
“We believe he was involved in an extramarital affair.”
“Seriously? Doesn’t he have like five kids or something?”
“And a sixth on the way,” Malone said, his expression grim.
“Please tell me he isn’t fooling around with someone connected to the department.”
“I haven’t heard yet who she is. IAB is handling it from here,” he said, referring to Internal Affairs.
“Wow,” Sam said. “People get themselves into some deep shit.”
“From what I’ve heard, you should be prepared for some of the shitstorm to come your way,” Gonzo said. “He’s apparently furious that you’re looking in-house for shooters.”
“Let him be furious,” Sam said. “I was doing my freaking job. If he’d been where he was supposed to be with his dick zipped into his pants, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Our lieutenant also has a way with words,” Freddie said to Green, who smiled.
“I see that.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Sam snapped.
“Don’t mind her,” Nick said. “She’s cranky. No one is safe.”
“Including you,” Sam said, elbowing him in the ribs. “What about the homegrown terrorist element that your team was investigating, Avery?”
“We haven’t uncovered any chatter or anything that would indicate we’ve got a new local cell looking to make a mark.”
“Jesse? Is your team making any headway?”
“Not yet. We’re doing everything we normally do, but I don’t have anything new to report.”
“Ugh.” Sam tore at her hair and then immediately regretting it when her injury protested. “We’ve got absolutely nothing new and a city being held hostage by these sons of bitches.” She took a deep breath, looking for her mojo.
Skip cleared his throat. “If I may…”
“Please,” Sam said.
“It’s time to go old school. Get out on the streets, drive around, watch for them. They’re probably puffed up with adrenaline, high on their own successes. They’ll be looking to strike again. The more eyes you have in the field, the greater your chances of stopping them before they can hit again.”