Chapter Thirty-Four
Sam spent the next two days picking apart every detail of the plan for Sunday, looking for gaps that might invite disaster but not finding any. The plan was airtight and ready for execution.
She spent two hours in the conference room with Vernon, Jimmy and four other Secret Service agents who’d be brought in to supplement her detail on Sunday.
“The main thing I need is for you to be out of sight,” Sam told them. “If Peckham senses Secret Service, he’ll know he’s walking into a trap.”
“No one will know we’re there,” Vernon assured her.
Cox’s firing had bumped every other story out of the headlines, even the search for Tom Forrester’s killer.
Terry had heard through the grapevine that Cox’s wife, upon hearing the news of her husband’s firing, had transferred all their available assets to a new account in her name only and had filed for divorce.
His downfall—and that of his weasel nephew Allston—gave Sam tremendous satisfaction.
With every day that passed without any word about Juan, Nick became more despondent over the fate of the man who’d been such a loyal aide. On the advice of the agencies searching for him, they’d managed to keep his disappearance out of the media, but word would get out soon enough.
Before she left work on Friday, she checked in personally with every member of the team to make sure they were set to meet at HQ at zero seven hundred on Sunday morning, that they understood the clothing requirements as well as their roles in the operation.
Officer Neveah Charles, the newest member of Sam’s squad, would be with Cori throughout. She would meet Cori at her home at nine fifteen on Sunday morning, and then ride to church with her, sit with her and accompany her outside after.
Sam asked Neveah to come into the office as her last order of business for the day on Friday before going to Ninth Street for the dreaded meeting with Nick’s mother. She couldn’t think about that yet.
“You wanted to see me, LT?” Charles asked from the doorway.
She had flawless brown skin, expressive dark eyes and long hair that she wore in a tidy bun. She’d impressed the hell out of Sam with her attention to detail when planning Skip’s police funeral, and Sam was thrilled to now have Neveah on her team.
“Why didn’t you choose modeling rather than something stupid like police work?”
Neveah laughed as she came in and shut the door.
“If I looked like you, I’d be modeling rather than dodging bullets.”
“Thank you. I think. My family would much prefer I’d chosen something safer.” She’d recently shared how she’d witnessed her mother’s murder and how that had made her want to be a police officer.
“I’ll bet.”
“But what fun would that be?”
“That’s why I like you so much. You think this job is fun. You’re weird like me.”
“That might be the best compliment I’ve ever received.”
“I thought we’d talked about the sucking up.”
“I wasn’t sucking up. I meant it.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “I suppose I ought to enjoy you while you’re sweet and innocent. Cruz was like that until he spent years working with me. Now he’s ruined.”
“I look forward to being ruined by you.”
“Let’s talk about Sunday. How’re you feeling about your assignment?”
“I feel good about it. I spoke to Judge Sawyer earlier, and I’m set to walk down the sidewalk to her home at nine fifteen, as if I’m a neighbor going to church with her.”
“Did she tell you to call her Cori?”
“She did.”
“You should do that when you’re with her.”
“I will.”
“This could be dangerous.”
“I’m aware.”
“This is one of those times when I hate my raised profile, because I’d want to do this myself. It’s difficult to ask something of one of my teammates that I can’t do myself.”
“I understand, and I want to do this. We’ll be surrounded by top-rate security the whole time. I trust them.”
“I do, too, or I’d never let you do this. That said, if anything happens to you, I’ll be mad at you forever.”
Charles laughed. “I’d spend all of eternity trying to get back in your good graces.”
“I know, which is why you can’t let anything happen.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Since she couldn’t ask for anything more than that, she nodded. “Be safe.”
“You, too.”
After Charles left, Cruz came to the door. “I’m going to punch out until Sunday.”
“Have a good weekend.”
“Are you okay about this thing with Nick’s mother?”
“I’ll be glad when it’s done.”
“Let me know how it goes?”
“I will.” She could tell he was hesitant to leave. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“Make sure she doesn’t hurt my best friends, you hear me?”
“I do, and I will.”
“Okay, then. Text me later.”
Sam nodded and sent him off with a smile. It was so sweet of him to worry about them, but Nicoletta had given everyone in their lives ample reason for worry with the way she’d treated Nick his entire life. The thought of having to sit down and make nice with that woman was revolting to Sam.
But she would do it because Nick wanted to hear what his mother had to say.
The BlackBerry buzzed with a text. Still on for 5?
I’ll be there.
Thanks for this. I owe you big.
SO BIG.
HAHAHA. I’ll make it up to you.
Yes, you will, and I’ll look forward to that.
Me, too.
Reminder: If she’s a dick to you, we’re leaving.
Yes, dear.
He hadn’t slept for shit the night before, tossing and turning over his worries about Juan and in anticipation of this appointment. Sam deeply resented her mother-in-law for that and so many other things. No matter what happened today, Sam would never stop resenting her for all the pain she’d caused Nick in the past. Some things couldn’t be forgiven, even if he chose to do so. Sam never would.
Resigned to having to get through this dreaded meeting, she texted Vernon to tell him she was on the way out, gathered her belongings and headed for the morgue exit. As she went past the glass doors to the morgue, a flash of red ponytail caught her eye.
Sam stepped through the automatic doors. “What the heck are you doing here, Doc?”
Lindsey turned to her, still looking paler than usual, but not as much as she had a few days ago. “I’m feeling way better, and I came in to help with the paperwork on the Stahl case. Byron and the others need all the help they can get.”
“Are you sure it’s not too soon?”
“I’m sure. I saw Gonzo earlier, and he updated me on the Forrester case. You feeling okay about the plan?”
“I’ll feel much better about it when it’s successfully executed.”
“I’m sure.”
“It’s hard for me to put my people at risk while I sit in the comfort of the comms truck.”
“If the suspect saw you, the jig would be up.”
“I hate that, too.”
“It is what it is, but I get why it’s hard for you.”
“At times like this, I wonder if I should hang it up here.”
“What? No way!”
“What kind of commander sends her troops into battle while she’s safely out of the line of fire?”
“The best kind of commander. Any one of them would rather work with you despite the limitations than anyone else. If you don’t believe me, ask them.”
“Anyway, didn’t mean to make this about me. But while we’re on the subject of me, don’t do that passing-out thing again, you hear me? Scared the shit out of me.”
Lindsey smiled. “I hear you, and I’ll try not to. Terry said much the same thing.”
“He’s been doing okay?”
“He’s been amazing. He waited on me hand and foot for days and never left my side. He’s doubled up on AA meetings, which helps at stressful times.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ve, uh, got to go meet Nick at Ninth Street for a meeting with his mother.”
Lindsey’s shock registered in every corner of her expressive face. “No.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Wow.”
“Right?”
“I’ll expect a full report.”
“I hope it’s a brief report.”
“Go with God.”
Sam laughed. “I will, thanks. Good to see you back where you belong, my friend.”
“Good to be here.”
After leaving the morgue, she pushed open the door and stepped into a brisk early April breeze.
Vernon stood by the SUV, waiting for her.
“Sorry for the delay. I stopped to say hi to Dr. McNamara.”
“Glad to hear she’s back.”
“It was nice to see her.”
“Are we still headed to Ninth Street?”
“Yes, please.”
Sam sat back with her head against the seat, trying to calm her mind and prepare to give whatever Nick needed at this meeting from hell. Most of all, she reminded herself she couldn’t whip out her rusty steak knife and stab the woman through the heart, no matter how much she deserved it or how much Sam wanted to.
“Everything okay?” Vernon asked.
“It will be after this thing at Ninth.”
“I heard at our briefing earlier why you’re going, and I was surprised.”
“The things we do for those we love.”
“Indeed.”
“And yes, I tried to talk him out of it, but hope springs eternal for him where she’s concerned.”
“Strange how that works, huh?”
“Very. If I had my way…”
“Don’t do anything that’ll cause more paperwork for all of us.”
Sam laughed. “That’s another thing my dad would’ve said, and I needed that right now. So thanks.”
“I do what I can for the people.”
“That is trademarked!”
His smile lit up his eyes as he looked at her in the mirror.
Sam was filled with emotion as they took the familiar streets to home. She’d lived in the Capitol Hill neighborhood for her entire life until they moved to the White House. As they turned onto Ninth Street, the line of Secret Service vehicles already parked on the street indicated that Nick had arrived first.
Her heart gave a happy leap at knowing she’d see him in a minute or two. That happy leap almost canceled out her anxiety about what might transpire with his mother.
Vernon held the door for her.
“Thank you for everything.”
“My pleasure.”
Sam smiled and squeezed his arm before leaving him to head into the place where they’d become a family. She glanced to her right, at the house three doors down that had been her dad’s home. The house was dark now, but the ramps in front of both homes were a reminder of what’d been lost. They should probably have them removed at some point, but that wasn’t something she wanted to think about today.
Brant opened the door to admit her.
“Evening, Brant.”
“Evening, Mrs. Cappuano.”
Nick came out of the kitchen, holding a glass containing amber-colored liquid. “We left the good bourbon Graham gave me last year.”
“Thankfully, bourbon keeps.”
“Indeed, because I needed a drink before this. You?”
Sam followed him into the kitchen, which sealed them off from the room full of agents. “I wouldn’t say no to that. What else is there?”
“I saw some vodka and gin.” He put his drink on the counter and turned to her. “But first things first.” With his hands framing her face, he kissed her. “Hi.”
“Hi there.” She hated how exhausted he looked and hoped he’d feel better when this nasty detail had been seen to. That might be too much to hope for, however, with Juan still missing.
“Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.”
He laughed. “Don’t lie to my face.”
“I love your face. That’s why I’m here.”
He ran his hands over her, as if looking for something. “No rusty steak knives?”
“What do you take me for?”
“I take you for my fierce, fabulous, sexy wife who’d happily stab my mother through the heart to protect me.”
“I’d go for the eye. It would upset her more to be ugly than dead.”
He tossed his head back and laughed as hard as he had in a while. “My God, I love you.”
Sam wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. “I love you more, and you have the T-shirt to prove it.”
“I’d never be able to do any of this shit without you. I hope you know that.”
“I do, and likewise, my love. This makes all things possible.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Promise me we’ll get up and leave if this is all about the usual bullshit.”
“Give me a signal.”
“If I squeeze your hand three times, we’re out.”
“That means I get to hold your hand the whole time.”
“Duh.”
“Derek did some digging on Collins, but couldn’t find anything that might tell us what this meeting is about.”
“Freddie did, too, with the same result.”
“I hate going into something like this blind.”
“You’re not blind. You know exactly who and what you’re dealing with when it comes to her.”
“True.” He kissed her again and leaned his forehead on hers. “I know you think I’m crazy for taking this meeting?—”
She kissed him. “I get it. I don’t like it. But I get it. Now, about that drink…”
“Coming right up.”
He poured her a vodka and soda that was heavy on the vodka and light on the small bottle of soda water he found in the cabinet. “I’m sorry to say this bar has no fresh fruit to top off your cocktail.”
“That’s okay.” She took a sip of the drink and felt the alcohol warm her from the inside. “It’s so weird to be here.”
“I know. We’ve been gone just long enough that it doesn’t feel as much like home anymore.”
“Remember when we said the White House would never be home?”
“Funny how that happens, huh?”
“It’s the people with us who make it home.”
“I saw the kids after school. I told them we’d be home for dinner.”
“Something to look forward to.”
A soft knock on the door sounded. “Mr. President, your guests have arrived,” Brant said.
Nick pulled back from her. “Here we go. You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let’s get this over with.” He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen, both with drinks in hand.
Nicoletta stood next to a tall, distinguished man with silver hair and a tanned face. He wore a sharp suit and reminded Sam of the actor Robert Wagner.
Her mother-in-law looked stunning, as usual, which was just another reason to dislike her. Nick had told her that she loved being compared to Sophia Loren. Whatever.
The agents, who’d already vetted the guests, made themselves scarce.
“Th-this is Collins Worthy. Collins, my son, Nick, and his wife, Sam.”
Collins smiled as he extended his hand to Nick. “Mr. President, it’s an honor to meet you.”
“My name is Nick here.”
Sam wished she could give him a high five for shutting down the Mr. President bullshit from the get-go.
“Of course.” He shook hands with Sam. “Pleasure to meet you as well.”
Nick gestured to the sofas. “Have a seat.”
Nicoletta and Collins sat on the sofa that faced the one Sam and Nick settled on.
Sam liked that Nick didn’t offer them anything. After all, this wasn’t a social call.
“You asked for this meeting,” Nick said. “What can we do for you?”