Chapter Eight
Freddie led her into the conference room, where he’d put together a timeline on one of the big dry-erase boards.
“First, tell me what’s wrong.”
Sam closed the door. “You have to keep it between us.”
“Okay.”
“The chief and captain told me they’re planning to postpone retirement for the three years Nick is in office so they can have my back here.”
“Oh wow. That’s amazing.”
“I know, right? They wrecked me when they said that’s what family does for family.”
“I love it. I’m so glad they’re doing that.”
“Me, too. It means the world to me, but it caught me by surprise, thus the tears that pissed me off. Now, tell me about this interesting narrative.”
“Cox and Forrester met at UPenn as undergrads and pledged Lambda Chi Alpha together. Cox was later president to Forrester’s vice president.”
Sam became more furious with every new detail added to the puzzle. “Did he honestly think we wouldn’t find out that they go way back?”
“He probably thought we’d take his word for it as the AG.”
“That was a miscalculation on his part. What else have you got?”
“After college and law school at Yale, they were spent six years working in the New York City DA’s office before being hired by the same New York City corporate law firm, where they spent the next fifteen years making small fortunes. Forrester was appointed U.S. Attorney twelve years ago, and Nelson tapped Cox to be his AG as part of his original cabinet. He left the firm as the managing partner.”
Freddie added news articles to the board that had banner headlines about the untested attorney who’d been given the role of top law enforcement officer. “There was a huge uproar over Cox’s appointment as he’d spent far more time in corporate law than criminal.”
“I remember this vaguely now that you mention it.” Before she’d gotten back together with Nick, she hadn’t paid much attention to politics.
“Despite the controversy, Cox settled into the job, hired a team of well-regarded prosecutors and has earned mostly high marks during his tenure.”
“Something about this whole thing stinks, and I can’t figure out what or why.”
“Agree.”
“Let’s go see Bryant again and see what he can tell us about this unholy alliance.”
As they were headed for the morgue exit, paramedics came rushing in.
“What the hell?” Sam watched as they sped into the morgue and then took off running in that direction herself, nearly slamming into Dr. Byron Tomlinson as he came out through the morgue’s automatic doors. “What’s going on?”
“Lindsey collapsed.”
“Is she okay?”
Byron seemed rattled, which did nothing to calm Sam’s nerves. He was a doctor, for crying out loud. “I called for EMS when she didn’t come to.”
“Should I call Terry?”
“I would.”
“Find out where they’re taking her.”
Byron nodded to show he’d heard her.
Sam did not want to call Terry with this news. Her hands were less than steady as she found his number in her contacts.
“Hey, Sam. What’s up?”
“Terry… Ah, Lindsey collapsed at work, and they’re taking her to…”
“GW,” Byron said.
“GW ER.”
“Oh my God.”
“I don’t know anything more than EMS is here preparing to transport her.”
“Thanks for calling. I’ll get right over there. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“I will.” She closed her phone. “He’ll meet her there.”
When the paramedics rolled Lindsey out of the morgue, Sam was struck by how incredibly pale she was. The urgency with which the EMS team moved only added to her anxiety.
“I’ll go with her,” Byron said. “And keep you informed.”
“Thank you.” Sam called Captain Malone. “Lindsey collapsed in the morgue. EMS just transported her to the hospital.”
“Oh no.”
“Byron is going with her and will keep us in the loop. I also called Terry.”
“Let me know what you hear.”
“Will do. I was on my way to speak to Bryant again, but now I’m not sure what I should do.”
“Go deal with Bryant. There’s nothing you can do for Lindsey. She’s in the best possible hands.”
“You’re right. It’s just…”
“I know, Sam. It’s upsetting, but I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Sam hoped to hell he was right.
For a full minuteafter ending the call with Sam, Terry stared at the far wall of his office, filled with dread. He’d known something was off and had encouraged Lindsey to call out of work so she could rest. The Stahl investigation had tapped her and her team to their utmost limits as they worked in concert with the FBI lab to identify victims.
He’d nearly had her convinced to take a break when Forrester was murdered, and all thoughts of rest and relaxation were forgotten.
She liked to say, “Murder waits for no one, except the medical examiner.”
He understood that making light of the job helped her get through the grim tasks required of her.
He forced himself to get up, to move toward the door, to notify his lead agent that he needed a ride to GW and to walk to the Oval to tell Nick he was leaving. The admin outside the office waved him in.
Terry knocked and entered the room.
Nick was seated behind the Resolute Desk and looked up when Terry came in. “Hey, I was just going to buzz you about?—”
“Nick.”
“What’s wrong?” He stood. “Did something happen to Sam?”
“No, to Lindsey. She collapsed at work. They’re taking her to GW.”
“Go,” Nick said. “I’d come with you if it wouldn’t cause a circus.”
Terry heard what Nick said but couldn’t make himself move due to intense fear. “I knew something was wrong, but she said she was fine. She wasn’t. What’ll I do if…”
Nick came around the desk and put his hands on Terry’s shoulders. “She’s young and healthy and probably caught a virus that’s going around. You need to go to her. She’ll be looking for you.”
Terry nodded. “She’s my reason, you know?”
“I do know. I get it. She needs you to be strong for her. Why don’t we see if Harry can go with you?” Nick went back to the desk, picked up the extension and asked for Dr. Flynn. “Hey, Lindsey collapsed at work, and Terry is heading to GW. Do you think you could…” Nick nodded. “Thank you.” He hung up. “He’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t let your mind run away with you. Get over there and figure out what she needs.”
“I’m going.”
“Terry…”
He turned back.
“If you feel the need to drink, please call your sponsor.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
As he left the Oval and walked toward the lobby to meet Harry, Terry told himself this wasn’t about him. It was about Lindsey. But there was no him without her, so he took Nick’s warning to heart. It’d been two years since he’d been tempted to drink. He was so far removed from that life now it seemed like his spiral into alcoholism had happened to someone else. He tended faithfully to his sobriety with daily meetings. He never missed a day. He could only hope that all the work he’d put in would hold him up during whatever crisis might be awaiting him at the hospital.
Harry was in the lobby when Terry got there and came over to hug him. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it and get her back on her feet, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks for coming.”
“Of course.”
Terry’s Secret Service detail used lights and sirens to convey them quickly to the hospital. While Terry was thankful for the expediency, it only added to the anxiety bubbling up inside him. He needed to notify Lindsey’s mother and his parents, but he decided to wait to make those calls until he knew more.
“What can I do?” Harry asked after a long silence.
“Tell me she’s fine and whatever happened is nothing to worry about.”
“I hope I can tell you that very soon.”
What if it was bad? What would he do?
“Try not to spin yourself into worst-case, Terry. It won’t help.”
“Trying.”
How the hell long did it take to get to GW with the Secret Service blazing a trail? Too long. By the time they arrived, he was nearly paralyzed with fear.
“Come on.” Harry gave him a push to get him moving. “Let’s go see how she is.”
One of Terry’s agents escorted them inside, where they met up with Byron Tomlinson.
“Anything?”
“Not yet.”
That Byron looked rattled did nothing to assuage Terry’s nerves.
His agents asked for a private room where Terry could wait for news.
“Right this way,” one of the nurses said.
Terry could tell that they wondered who he was to warrant such measures, but as Harry and Byron followed him into the room, he didn’t have the energy to tell the nurses he was chief of staff to the president.
“I’ll send Dr. Anderson in to speak with you.”
“Thank you.”
“Anderson is the best,” Harry said. “He’s a great friend of Sam’s from all her many trips to the ER.”
“That’s good to know.”
Terry appreciated Harry trying to keep his spirits up, but the panic intensified with every minute that passed in that small, airless room.
A quick knock on the door was the only warning they got that the doctor had arrived. “I’m Dr. Anderson, an ER attending physician.”
“Terry O’Connor. I’m…” He could barely speak around the gigantic lump of fear in his throat. “Lindsey’s fiancé.”
Anderson shook hands with Terry, Byron and Harry. “Good to see you, Dr. Flynn.”
“How is she?” Harry asked.
“We’re rerunning her blood work, as it came back a little off. As soon as we have more info, I’ll be back to update you.”
He wanted to ask what off meant but was afraid he wouldn’t want to know. “Is she awake? Could I be with her?”
“She’s resting right now, but I’ll get you in to see her soon.”
Harry followed the doctor out of the room and closed the door.
Terry stared at that door until it opened again. “What did he say?”
“Nothing.” Harry’s furrowed brows put Terry on alert.
“Please tell me.”
“They don’t know anything for certain yet. It’s better to wait for the test results to come back.”
“Tell me, Harry. What do they think it is?”
“It could be anything from anemia to leukemia.”
Byron gasped.
Terry felt as if a trapdoor had opened under him and sucked him into a deep, dark abyss. “That’s n-not possible. She’s perfectly healthy.” Or she had been, until lately.
Harry put a hand on Terry’s shoulder. “Let’s wait and see what they find out.”
The fact that Harry looked worried only added to the tsunami of anxiety and dread building in Terry.
“I need to see her.”
“He said he’d be back for you as soon as he could,” Harry said.
Terry sat and dropped his head into his hands, wanting to wail at the thought of her being seriously ill. They were due to be married in a few short months. There couldn’t be anything wrong with her.
There just couldn’t be.
On the wayto Bryant’s home, Sam watched her phone, hoping for an update on Lindsey.
“You don’t think it’s anything bad, do you?” Freddie asked.
“I have no idea, but she has been feeling off lately.”
“She was so pale when they wheeled her out. Even her lips were pale.”
“I saw that, too.”
The BlackBerry she used to communicate with Nick buzzed in her pocket. She retrieved it to find a text from Nick asking if she’d heard anything about Lindsey.
Nothing yet, but she was scary pale when they took her out of HQ. Is Terry with her?
Hate to hear that, and yes, he left about twenty minutes ago. Harry is with him.
That’s good. That’ll help.
Let me know if you hear anything.
I will. You too.
“Terry and Harry are at the hospital.” Sam put the BlackBerry back in her pocket. “I’ve completely forgotten where we’re going or why.” She hadn’t been this rattled since the morning they found her brother-in-law Spencer unresponsive at Camp David.
“To see Bryant about the connection between Cox and Forrester and anything else he can tell us.”
“Right.”
Sam checked her watch. “I have to be back to HQ at three thirty for a dress fitting for the state dinner, which has never felt less important than it does now.”
“You have to do what you have to do.”
“It feels wrong to be thinking about something so stupid as a dress fitting when Tom is in the morgue and Lindsey’s in the hospital.”
“You know how she is. No muss, no fuss. She’d want you to do your thing and not worry about her.”
“That’s impossible.” Over the last few years of working closely together, Lindsey McNamara had become one of Sam’s closest and dearest friends.
They arrived at Bryant’s Adams Morgan home and rang the bell. After a few minutes passed with no sign of him, Freddie rang the bell again and then pounded on the door.
“Police, open up.”
“Do we have a number for him?”
“I think so.”
“Find it and call it.”
Freddie got busy on his phone. “Gonzo is texting it to me.” After he made the call, he put the phone on speaker. It rang several times before Bryant answered with a grunt.
“Police at your door. Open up.”
“I’m not saying another word to you without my lawyer present. I know what you’re trying to do.”
“That’s too bad, because we might’ve been able to offer you some help later if you were to return the favor now.”
“What kind of help?”
“That depends on the quality of the info you provide.”
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Make it a quick minute. We’re in a hurry.”
Four minutes later, Sam’s head was about to blow off her neck. “Where the hell is he?”
Freddie pounded on the door again as he looked through the glass on the right side of the door. “He’s going out the back!”
They took off running, going in opposite directions toward the back of the block-long building.
Sam was aware of one of her Secret Service agents running after her, but she didn’t take the time to figure out which one. Her chest and legs burned from the effort, proving she’d fallen badly out of shape while dining on White House cuisine. She rounded the corner and slammed head-on into Bryant, who was running even faster than she was. The impact sent both of them flying.
She managed to grab his shirt before she landed hard on her right hand, crying out from the pain that radiated from wrist to shoulder. Part of him had connected with her left cheek, which hurt like the devil as she forced herself to keep her wits about her, to grab her cuffs, to get them on him and then to try to catch her breath while managing a hand that didn’t want to work the way it was supposed to.
And then a sharp pain from the vicinity of her hip registered, overtaking every other concern. If she’d rebroken her recently healed hip, she would kill Bryant with her bare hands.