Chapter Seventeen
Thinking about her father and the grief group had Sam putting through a call to her sister Tracy.
“Morning,” Tracy said. “Did you catch the case of the woman who ripped off her friends?”
“Yep, and it’s a beast.”
“Your husband has the whole world going crazy over his decision.”
Sam winced. “And I should’ve told you guys before it went public.”
“Don’t worry about that. You have enough to think about.”
“Still… Common courtesy and all that.”
“We’re not sweating it, and you shouldn’t either. Did you see his mother on TV last night?”
“Unfortunately, yes. She’s so fucking gross. I might’ve asked Avery to do something about her.”
“As in the FBI?”
“The one and only.”
“Oh my God! That’d be freaking awesome!”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too. Put a little scare into her and shut her up. If you could see what it does to him when she reappears… It makes me so furious.”
“I can only imagine how badly you want to stab her.”
“With every fiber of my being.”
“I’m sorry. For you and for him.”
“Thanks. I try to tell myself it is what it is, but seeing him hurt makes me crazy.”
“It makes me crazy, too, and he’s not even my husband.”
“Thank you for that. So I wanted to make sure to remind you that the grief group meeting is tonight if you guys still want to come.”
“I’m hoping to get there with Ang and Celia. No promises, though. It’s minute-by-minute for all of us.”
“Trust me, I understand that. At least we’ll have three people there besides me and Dr. Trulo.” Sam still wasn’t convinced she’d get Roni to go.
“You’ll have more than us. People need this so badly. I need it. I’ve been so… I don’t know… off, I guess you’d say, since Dad died.”
“I know what you mean. I feel extremely off myself.”
“And with Thanksgiving coming… Ugh. I want to forget it this year.”
Thanksgiving had been one of Skip’s favorite days of the year. He’d always said he’d eat the big turkey dinner every day if he could.
“He’s supposed to be calling me nonstop to ask if I got the turkeys yet and to remind me he’s paying for them,” Tracy said, sniffling. “I keep waiting for that call.”
Sam laughed even as she blinked back her own tears. “And every year, you’d have to tell him, ‘Dad, they’ll be rancid by Thanksgiving if I get them now.’”
“Right,” Tracy said, laughing. “Every year. Same conversation.”
“Remember the year you forgot to cook the giblets for him?”
“God, yes. I thought he’d disown me.”
“So gross. Who eats that shit?”
Together, they said, “Skip Holland.”
“I miss him so much, it makes me ache,” Sam said.
“Same. I had this same conversation with Brooke,” Tracy said of her nineteen-year-old daughter, “when she asked me how long it would take until it didn’t hurt so badly anymore.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her it would probably always hurt a little because there’s a hole in our lives where he used to be, but he wouldn’t want us to let the pain get too big. He’d say he had a good life, and he wants the same for us.”
“That’s perfect. Mind if I use that if I need it with Scotty?”
“Go for it. It’s the truth. I’m sure of it. That’s what he’d want.”
“It is.”
“I know you’re dealing with the added grief of discovering Conklin’s involvement and that other officer. What’s his name?”
“Hernandez.”
“Yeah, him. That has to compound the loss for you.”
“It doesn’t help. That’s for sure.”
“I have no doubt that you and everyone involved will get justice for Dad.”
“If it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Nick took the malaise of his mother’s unexpected reappearance with him to work, dragging after a restless night of not enough sleep.
He’d been plagued by old dreams of his childhood and the many days he’d sat by the window of his grandmother’s small apartment, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming.
The scent of Chanel No. 5, the scent of his mother, had wafted through the dream, revolting him.
He hated that scent and the reminders of disappointment that came with it.
What was she doing going on TV to talk about him when she hadn’t talked to him in months?
Not since the last time she’d surfaced like algae in a pond to stick her nose into his business during Christopher Nelson’s reign of terror, which had led to the murder of Sam’s ex-husband in a plot that had shocked Nick to his core.
His mother’s involvement had only made it worse.
The person who should’ve been protecting him had once again let him down.
He ought to be used to it by now, but he never had figured out a way to protect his heart from her cruelty.
It pissed him off that she still had the power to hurt him. By now, he should be long over her ability to crush him, but if last night was any indication, he was a long way from over it.
Terry was waiting for him with the morning security briefing and other matters that required his attention, which kept his mind occupied and off the thing he didn’t want to think about.
“So about that interview your mother gave last night,” Terry said when they’d completed the rest of the items on Terry’s usual morning list.
Nick braced himself. “What about it?”
“Trevor is juggling a bunch of inquiries for more information about your relationship with her after the statement from last night.”
“Sam does some of her best work when my mother is involved.”
“She does. I’m sorry you have to deal with her like that.”
Nick shrugged, as if his mother regularly devastating him was no big deal.
“It is what it is. I learned a long time ago not to hope for her to change.” His personal cell phone rang.
“Ah, look who it is. My dad is probably in a rage today, too.” He took the call from Leo Cappuano, who had been as absent as his mother when Nick was a child but had made a concerted effort to be better in recent years. “Hey, Dad.”
Terry waved as he stepped out to give Nick some privacy.
“Nick…” Leo was sputtering, which was unusual. “I’m beside myself. What the hell is she thinking?”
“I believe she’s not thinking so much as profiting.”
“Disgusting. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make it stop.”
“It helps that you called. Try not to let it upset you. That’s what I’m doing. And I’m sorry I didn’t call you before my decision went public. I should’ve done that.”
“Don’t worry about me, although I’ll admit I’m a little disappointed I won’t get to sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom.”
Nick laughed. “I could probably make that happen now if you’d like.”
“Nah, I’m kidding. I hope you know that one of your parents is very proud of you for all you’ve accomplished and is looking forward to whatever comes next for you and your family.”
“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate the call. We’re looking forward to seeing you guys at Thanksgiving. Scotty got a new race car driving game he says the boys are going to love.”
“We’re looking forward to it, too. We’ll see you next week. In the meantime, take care, son.”
“You, too.” Nick put down the phone and sat back in his chair, resting his head against the leather while wishing he had some control over the tangled emotions his mother stirred in him.
He loved her and hated her and wished she were different while also wanting her to go away and leave him alone.
He felt all those things in the span of a few seconds, the same things he’d felt all his life where she was concerned.
When he was a child, he hadn’t yet figured out how to manage the emotional carnage she left behind. As an adult, he’d tried his best to avoid her and the mess that came with her. But the emotions… They were exactly the same as when she’d promise him a visit and then never show up.
Why was he even thinking about this shit when his life was so great now? Why did he let her suck up his mental energy? Without giving himself too much time to consider the implications, he picked up the phone and called her.
“Nick,” she said, sounding surprised.
With one word from her, he realized he’d made a huge mistake.
The sound of her voice made him feel like the love-starved child he’d once been, waiting for something, anything from the mother who couldn’t care less about him.
Then and now. “Why are you doing this? Why are you going on TV and talking about me like you know anything about me or my life?”
“You’re my son! Of course I know about you and your life.”
“When we haven’t spoken in months, you have no right to go on TV and talk about me like you have some sort of inside info when you don’t.”
“That statement you released was very disrespectful.”
“Are you for real right now? You want to talk about what’s disrespectful? You wanting nothing to do with me until I became successful and famous, and now suddenly you want your little piece of the action.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh please. Don’t make it worse by lying to me on top of everything else.
I don’t want to get ugly with you, but I will if you don’t stay out of my life and my business.
The next time I see you talking about me in any capacity, you’re going to face legal action.
” He should’ve taken that action after she resurfaced during the Christopher Nelson investigation, but he’d refrained.
That, he now knew, had been a mistake. “This is the only warning you’re going to get before I play hardball with you. ”
“Maybe I should go public with my son the vice president threatening to play hardball with his mother.”
“Do whatever you need to do. Just keep your mouth shut about me and my family. I won’t hesitate to make your life as miserable as you’ve made mine.”
She released a harsh laugh. “Your life has hardly been miserable. Look at where you work.”