Chapter Thirty-Three
Sam was coming out of the shower an hour later when her phone rang with a call from Faith Miller.
“Hey.”
“Heard you were taking a personal day, and I’m sorry to bother you.”
“No worries. What’s up?”
“First of all, how’s your nephew and your family?”
“We’re hanging in there, avoiding the internet and doing what we can to stem the damage.”
“It’s outrageous. People with no information whatsoever are speculating wildly about eleven-year-old boys being complicit in murder, all because one of them is related to the first couple. Absolute madness.”
“Yes, it is. I heard you’re charging the Mayfields.”
“Charity is at their arraignment now. We’ve all seen a lot, but that case is seriously disturbing.”
“It certainly is.”
“So, I’m calling to remind you of two upcoming court dates. You said you wanted to be notified of anything having to do with Thomas O’Connor, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Not only had he murdered his father and Nick’s former boss, Senator John O’Connor, but Thomas had also killed several of the women his father had dated—and the husband of one of them—while pretending to be faithful to Thomas’s mother.
“There’s a hearing next week to discuss next steps. His defense is still aiming for an insanity defense, but I have to tell you, we’re not on board with that recommendation. We think it’s possible he’s faking it to try to avoid prison.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The fact that the doctors at the psych hospital haven’t witnessed a single thing that would lead them to believe he’s insane or in any way diminished mentally.
If anything, they’ve found him to be a well-spoken, articulate young man who gets along well with the other patients and participates in individual and group therapy while seeming to enjoy the interactions.
Most of our younger defendants tend to be deeply hostile toward therapy.
Thomas loves it. Other than the murders he committed, there’s simply no evidence to support an insanity defense. ”
“I see. Thank you for explaining that. Have you been in touch with Senator and Mrs. O’Connor?”
“They’re my next call.”
“I assume it’s okay to tell my husband the hearing is coming up?”
“Yes, of course. Secondly, as you’re certainly aware, the Christopher Nelson trial begins a week from Monday. I wanted to check in to make sure you’re set to testify the first day.”
“That’s the plan.” The son of the late president had conspired to discredit Nick, his father’s popular vice president, to further his own political aspirations.
Among other things, Christopher had tortured and killed Sam’s ex-husband, Peter Gibson, who’d refused to give up dirt that could be used against Sam and Nick.
“Do you have any questions or concerns for me?”
“No questions. Many concerns about reopening the wound of my ex-husband’s murder, as well as the countless reasons he was my ex-husband.”
“I’m sorry to put you through it.”
“It’s fine. Goes with the territory. And in case you were wondering, I do hate how often this stuff strikes too close to home for me.”
“I give you credit for rolling with it all.”
“What choice do I have? I can’t give up. I’ve got kids watching me.”
“Not just your own either.”
“I forget about that.”
Faith sputtered with laughter. “Only you, Sam.”
“I wish I had a buck for every time someone says that to me.”
“Let me guess… You’d be a millionaire.”
“Possibly a billionaire.”
“Thanks for the laugh. I’ll send you the details of the O’Connor hearing.”
“Thanks for calling, Faith.”
“Have a good break and call me if you need anything.”
Sam closed her phone and reached for the secure BlackBerry to update Nick about the O’Connor hearing. Faith told me they’re fighting the insanity defense.
She couldn’t hear the name Thomas O’Connor without being transported right back to the first time she saw Nick, six years after the night they first met and connected.
If you could call what happened between them that night “connecting.” It was more like nuclear fusion that was followed by a series of misunderstandings—and manipulation—that’d cost them six years together.
As she dried her hair, she recalled the thrill of seeing him again, even if it was at Senator John O’Connor’s murder scene.
Everything had been so fraught then. She’d still been reeling after an undercover assignment had resulted in the death of a young child.
Two and a half years later, she still couldn’t think of Quentin Johnson and the series of events that’d led to his death without wanting to wail.
She’d gone into the O’Connor investigation determined to get her career back on track and had smacked headfirst into the one man she’d never forgotten—O’Connor’s chief of staff and a witness in her case. That had put him firmly off-limits, which only made him all the more enticing.
Nick returned her text. Interesting about the insanity defense.
Faith said it’s a nonstarter. Speaking of the O’Connor case, I was thinking about that first week back together, and I want to pretend we haven’t seen each other in six years and everything between us is forbidden…
What the hell, babe? I have a meeting in two minutes. I’m going to have to stay behind the Resolute Desk.
Picturing his shocked and outraged expression, Sam laughed so hard, she had tears in her eyes. Hahahahahaha.
NOT FUNNY.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. So can we?
Why, hello, Ms. Secretary of State…
Oooph
Have a seat by my desk because… wood.
Hahahahaha. Love you.
Grrrrrr.
While she was messing around with him, she got a text from Neveah that also went to Gonzo.
I’ve been awake for two hours already, and it’s only four a.m. here.
This time change is no joke. I’ve been in touch with Spokane police, and they’re set to go with me to the Carver home at nine.
Gonzo was able to get the governor’s warrant from the court, so we’re good to go if we decide to take the women into custody.
Great job, Neveah. Please borrow a vest from Spokane if you go back to arrest them.
Will do, and I’ll keep you posted.
Scotty appeared in the open bathroom door. “Did you forget something, Mother?”
Sam smiled at his grumpy face and went to hug him. “Did you actually get yourself up?”
“Someone had to do it. My parents are asleep at the wheel.”
“Your parents are giving you a fake sick day.”
He tipped his head as his brow lifted. “You both are?”
“We are.”
“Is Dad under the influence or something?”
“Nope. I told him what I want more than anything today is some time with you and the twins, who are still recovering from being sick, and he suggested we take a mental health day.”
“He suggested it? Am I still asleep and dreaming? If so, I don’t want to wake up.”
“You’re wide awake and off for the day. Dad is going to call you out.”
“Can you imagine the office ladies at school getting a call from the man himself? They’ll probably wet their pants.”
Sam laughed at his delighted expression as he did a happy dance into the bedroom, where he flopped onto the bed.
“Best day of my life!”
The twins came in, shrieking when they saw Scotty on the bed. They launched themselves at him and landed on top of him.
He wrapped his arms around them and held them tightly, ramping up the screaming exponentially. “I’ve got ’em, Mom. Come and get them.”
Sam jogged toward the bed and landed right next to them, tickling Aubrey while Scotty got Alden. They were the rare kids who loved being tickled. She’d hated it—and still did.
“We’re not sick anymore!” Aubrey announced at the top of her lungs.
“I’m so glad and very sorry I missed the whole thing.” She gathered Aubrey into her arms while the boys wrestled. “I wanted to be here with you.”
“It’s okay. We had Grandma Brenda, and Nick was here. Shelby and the kids came by, too. Maisie farted!” She dissolved into helpless giggles. “It was stinky!”
“So stinky!” Alden said.
“She’s just a baby,” Scotty said. “She doesn’t stink as bad as you guys do.”
“I don’t stink!” Aubrey said.
“You farted right on me the other night,” Scotty said. “Trust me, you do stink.”
Aubrey giggled. “That was funny.”
“Hysterical.”
As Sam snuggled with them and talked about stupid things like farts and French toast sticks, she was the happiest mother in the whole world.
“Guess what, you guys?” Scotty said.
“What?”
“Mom said we can stay home today.”
The twins looked at her for confirmation.
“But Dr. Harry—”
Aubrey put her hand over Alden’s mouth and shook her head, giving Sam a glimpse of the teenager she’d be someday.
“Is it true, Sam?” Alden asked. “Do we get to stay home?”
“We’re all staying home. We’ve got the whole day to do whatever we want. What should we do?”
“Can we go to the Feds game?” Scotty asked.
“No!” Aubrey said. “No baseball. It’s so boring.”
“Those are fighting words, little sister.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “No baseball.”
“Laser tag!” Alden said.
“Build-a-Bear!” Aubrey said.
“No bears,” Scotty and Alden said.
“This is a challenge, citizens,” Sam said. “What else?”
“How about ice skating?” Scotty asked. “I could give you guys another lesson.”
Aubrey glanced at Alden, who shrugged.
“We’ll do that,” Aubrey said for both of them. She was often their spokesperson. “This would be the best day ever if Elijah was here, too.”
“We can FaceTime him at breakfast,” Sam said. “I also want to go see Tracy and the kids. They’re home today, too.”
Scotty glanced at her, seeming to connect the dots to his own day off.
When the twins ran off to tell their Secret Service agents they were staying home, Scotty looked to Sam. “Is this because of Ethan?”
“In part. Mostly, it’s because I want to spend time with you guys. But we also don’t want you having to answer questions.”
“About what?”
“You’ll see when you look at your social media, but people are trying to tie Ethan to Luna’s murder.”
“What? How? He had nothing to do with that.”
“It’s what people do. They make shit up, especially due to his connection to us and the chance to make us look bad. Who knows why they do it?”
“It’s sick that anyone would say such a thing about a child who was abducted.”
“I agree, honey. Remember that the twins don’t know what happened, and we’re trying to keep it that way.”
“I won’t say anything. I don’t want them to know that things like that can happen. They’ve already seen enough horrible stuff.”
“Yes, they have. Thank you for always thinking about what’s best for them.”
“After you and Dad, they’re the best thing to ever happen to me. Eli, too. I love having siblings.”
“I love that for you, too.”
“You know what I love more than anything in the whole world?”
“What’s that?”
“A fake sick day approved by my dad, the POTUS.”
“He’s going to live to regret this, isn’t he?”
“If he doesn’t already, he should.”
Sam collapsed into laughter with him.
“It’s so rare that he makes such a huge strategic mistake like this,” Scotty said. “We have to enjoy every second of it.”
“Oh, we will, my friend. Don’t you worry.”
“Can I still go to practice this afternoon?”
“You’ll be feeling much better by then.”
His big grin, directed at his mother and coconspirator, was the best thing ever.