Chapter Fifteen
It was nearly eight by the time Sam turned onto Ninth Street, which was completely overrun with media and the largest Secret Service presence she’d seen yet since Nick became vice president.
“Christ have mercy,” she muttered as the agents worked to clear a path for her to get to the checkpoint.
Ten minutes later, she parked in her assigned spot outside their home.
She was about to get out of the car when her phone rang with a call from Gonzo’s fiancée, Christina Billings. Groaning at yet another delay, she took the call because that’s what Gonzo would do for her in the same situation. “Hey.”
“Sam! You have to do something!”
“About?”
“You can’t let him plead guilty to charges that’ll kill his career!”
“I tried to tell him that, but he seems very determined.”
“So talk him out of it. This is crazy! He was sick when he did what he did. He’d never have done that in his right mind. You know that as well as I do.”
“I do know that, but it’s not that simple, Christina. Somehow, people in the department found out, and now it’s not possible to put the genie back in the bottle.”
“People listen to you, Sam. You could fix this for him. Please. He’s worked so hard on his recovery. Even though he seems resigned to pleading, something like this could wreck him.”
“I know,” Sam said, sighing. “I’ve had the same fear, and I’ve raised it with the commanders. The chief was planning to talk to USA Forrester about it, and I’ll follow up with him tomorrow to see where we are.”
“Thank you,” Christina said, sounding relieved. “He may not be strong enough to fight back on this, but I’m strong enough to fight for both of us.”
“Good. He’s going to need that.”
“Please, Sam. Please don’t let this happen.”
“I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”
“Okay. I’m sorry to call you in a panic, but I just now heard of his plan to plead out.”
“I would’ve thought he’d talked to you about it.”
“He didn’t because he knew what I would say.” Christina paused before she continued. “We’re finally getting him back. A hit like this… I don’t know if he’d survive it, Sam. He’s being so matter-of-fact about it, but you know how he feels.”
“I do, and I’ve been as upset about it as you are. Any word on a release date?”
“In time for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s great. I’m so glad to hear that.”
“Me, too. You have no idea…”
“We’re all going to be there for him and for you.”
“Thank you.”
They said their goodbyes, and Sam closed her phone without the usual smack that gave her such satisfaction.
After pondering the situation for a few minutes, she decided to do something she rarely did and called the chief on his cell phone.
She saved that card for only the most critical of situations. This certainly counted.
“Hey,” he said when he answered. “What’s up?”
“This is your niece Sam calling her uncle Joe for a work-related personal favor.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Have the zombies arrived and no one told me?”
That made her laugh, too. “Not yet, but I’ll let you know if they do. This is about Gonzales.”
“Ah, yes, and the plea deal, I presume?”
“That deal is total bullshit. He was suffering from PTSD after his partner was murdered right in front of him. Rather than charging him with a crime, we ought to be thanking him for his service.”
“You know I completely agree with you, but people found out about it, and now it’s out of my hands.”
“People meaning Ramsey, who’s been digging for shit on my team because of his beef with me.”
“I never heard where the info came from, just that it was credible. It was sent anonymously to the USA’s office. By the time I heard about it, there were already charges pending.”
“Call USA Tom Forrester, Chief. Remind him that Arnold was killed three feet from Gonzo after he let him take the lead for the first time. Gonzo believes he should’ve taken the bullet himself. We have to at least try to fix this.”
“I’ve been talking to Tom and doing what I can. No guarantees.”
“I appreciate the effort. Here’s what I’m thinking: We have Gonzo make a statement, owning what he did and why and going public with the struggles he’s endured since his partner died.
It’ll be a big ask of him after everything, but I think he’d do it.
So he owns what he did and understands that as a law enforcement officer, he should’ve done better.
I think we could spin it in conjunction with Forrester, who could say, in light of Sergeant Gonzales’s long stint in rehab and his distinguished career, as well as the circumstances of his partner’s murder, he’s declining to pursue charges because no one was hurt by what Gonzo did except Gonzo. ”
“It’s a good idea. I’ll pitch that to Tom and see what he says.”
“Gonzo might object to playing the sympathy card to avoid charges, but I say it’s worth a shot. I can probably talk him into it.”
“If anyone can, you can.”
“Thank you. I think. And thank you for trying.”
“Anything for you, kid, as long as you never tell anyone I said that.”
“Said what? Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
Sam closed the phone and got out of the car as Nick came down the ramp toward her.
From the checkpoint, reporters began shouting questions at them.
“Why aren’t you running?”
“Tell us the truth. Why don’t you want to be president?”
“Any chance you’ll change your mind?”
“Is it because of the Nelson scandals?”
Nick put his arm around Sam and escorted her up the ramp and into the sanctuary of their home.
Sam nodded to Nate, the Secret Service agent working the door, while wondering if her detail would go home for the night or stay outside. She didn’t care enough to ask.
“I was worried when you didn’t come in,” Nick said.
“I was on the phone. Christina called about Gonzo’s plea bargain, asking me to do something to stop it. I called the chief, and he’s going to talk to Forrester again tomorrow.”
“I hope they can work something out, because it’s screwed up that they’re even considering charging him.”
“Agreed.”
“What do you want first? Kids or food?”
“Definitely kids. Are the Littles still awake?”
“Yep. Scotty is reading to them.”
“Let’s go.” As she led the way upstairs, Sam said, “After I close this case, I want a full day with my family. We’ll take them to the farm.”
“Graham was saying we haven’t been there in too long.”
“Maybe we’ll sleep over at the cabin.” John O’Connor had left Nick a small cabin located a few miles from Graham and Laine’s place in Leesburg. They used it as a getaway from time to time. “I hate that I have so little time with the kids on days like this one.”
“You give them plenty on the other days. Don’t worry. They’re very well loved, and they know it.”
“Keep telling me that.”
“Anytime you need to hear it.”
At the doorway, they stopped to watch as Scotty read to the twins, who were snuggled up on either side of him. Seeing the three of them together always made her heart feel too big for her chest, and never more so than when Scotty was in big brother mode.
“One more,” Aubrey said when they finished the story.
“No more. You two are up way past your bedtime.”
Sam held back a laugh at how much he sounded like his father. She stepped into the room and took Scotty’s place between them after he got off the bed. “Snuggle me, little people. I missed you so much today. Tell me everything that happened.”
She listened to stories from the front lines of kindergarten, about how Maisy had put glue up her nose, and Taylor got glitter in her eye, and Billy’s mom had brought in cupcakes with green icing that turned their tongues green.
They had her laughing and nearly crying over how sweet and cute and funny they were.
She stayed with them until she could tell they were ready for sleep and then kissed them both good night.
“Cuteness overload,” she said to Nick when she rejoined him in the hallway. “And I need to take cupcakes to their class.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Um, where will you get these alleged cupcakes?”
She glared at him as they went downstairs. “I’ll make them.”
“Oh. Um. Well, do you know how?”
“Yes, I know how. What do you take me for?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“You’re full of beans tonight, Mr. Vice President.
” Sam peered into the oven to see what Shelby had left warming.
Enchiladas. Yum. “Is that because you’ve got the whole country losing its collective mind over your decision not to run?
” She grabbed pot holders from the counter and retrieved her dinner.
“I can’t believe the way this went down. It never occurred to me I’d be told I was obligated to run. We have people working overnight in the office to handle the phones. It’s madness. And Trevor says I need to give another interview because people have more questions.”
“Are you melting down on the inside?”
“Not really. I’m in full-on denial mode that this has turned into a much bigger deal than anticipated. Derek also hinted to me that Nelson isn’t happy I owned the news cycle today.”
“Too bad. When he owns the news cycle, there’s murder and extramarital affairs while his wife is being treated for cancer.”
“True,” Nick said, pouring her a glass of chardonnay and bringing it to her.
“Nothing for you?” she asked, taking a bite of the delicious enchiladas.
“Not tonight. I want to be able to sleep. I’m tired.”
“The decision has been weighing on you, and now that it’s made and set in motion, you can relax.
The reaction has nothing to do with you or us.
Of course people who like you are disappointed, but that’s not our problem.
You don’t owe them anything more than what you’ve already given, which is way more than some people ever give to their country. ”
“I might need some help relaxing.” He punctuated the statement with waggling brows and a wolfish grin. “My nerves are stretched rather tightly.”
“Are you, by any chance, using this situation to get lucky?”