Fatal Frenzy: Book 9 of the Fatal Series Read online

  “I love her so much,” Scotty said, seeming awestruck by her outburst.

  Hearing him say that nearly reduced her to tears, but the glare she received from Nick let her know she needed to fix the damage.

  Sighing, she slipped reluctantly back into mom mode. “That said, buddy, you still gotta deal with the stupid crap they make you do so you can get the piece of paper you need to get out of there. Think of your high school diploma as your get-out-of-jail free card.”

  Nick shook his head in amused disbelief. “Really, Sam?”

  “I understand what she’s saying,” Scotty said. “You have to play the game to get to the finish line.”

  “Yes! Exactly.” Sam smirked at Nick. “He gets me.”

  “Someone’s got to,” Nick said.

  “Har har.”

  “Y’all are funny,” Shelby said, giggling. “Is this what happens every night at dinner?”

  “Thankfully not every night or our son might be a dropout by now,” Nick said.

  “I only speak the truth,” Sam said.

  “At the risk of getting fired and banned from your house, I sort of agree with Sam,” Shelby said.

  “I’m surrounded by rebels,” Nick said, taking a long swig of his beer.

  “Seriously, though,” Shelby said, “everything I needed to know to run my business I learned on the job. I would’ve loved a personal finance class in high school, something about how the stock market works and how to plan for retirement. I think everyone needs accounting more than they need algebra.”

  Sam held up her hand to Shelby, who high-fived her. “Sing it, sister.”

  “Dad, you’re the vice president. You could actually do something about this.”

  “Yeah, Nick,” Sam said. “You should outlaw algebra. That would get you elected president of the universe.”

  “What exactly do you propose that I do?” Nick asked.

  “You could meet with the education people,” Scotty said in all seriousness, “and tell them the current system is messed up.”

  Nick looked to Sam, his expression challenging.

  “Well, um, he can’t just go in there demanding widespread changes,” Sam said.

  “Why not?” Scotty asked. “He’s the vice president. He can do whatever he wants to.”

  “Yes, Sam,” Nick said, enjoying watching her squirm. “Why not?”

  “That’s not how the government works,” Sam said. “First they have to commission expensive studies when we already know what the problem is. They have to analyze it to death until they forget what they wanted to know, and if they figure out some actual solutions, they have to take it to Congress where it will be bogged down in political mumbo jumbo for years, possibly decades. When they finally decide what to do, they won’t be able to afford it or maybe it will get passed and then they will send it to the states to figure out how to implement it, but they’ll get pissed because they don’t have the money, and that’s why we won’t ever, ever, ever get rid of algebra.”

  “I just fell into a deep depression,” Scotty said glumly.

  Shelby was in tears from laughing.

  Nick stared at Sam, who was no longer sure if he was mad or amused by her recitation. Then he smiled, and she knew everything was fine. “You are a piece of work, my love.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “She’s not wrong,” Scotty said with thirteen-year-old wisdom. “Algebra isn’t going away, and Congress doesn’t get much of anything done. We talked about that in Social Studies class.”

  “Awesome,” Nick said.

  “Y’all are gonna make me pee my pants,” Shelby said. “I want to eat here every night.”

  “You see why I love living here so much?” Scotty asked as he got up to clear the table, leaving his parents reeling from what he’d said.

  Under the table, Nick found her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Sam was trying not to cry. To hear him say he loved her and loved living here… What an amazing thing that was.

  “Speaking of you living here,” Nick said, “we’ve got a court date to make it all official. What’re you doing on January thirtieth at high noon?”

  Scotty spun around to face them. “Seriously? Like for real?”

  “As real as it gets,” Nick said. “I heard from Andy today that all the final paperwork has been filed, and we’re good to go.”

  “Is that a school day?” Scotty asked.

  “It’s a Friday.”

  Scotty pumped his fist in the air. “I get adopted and I get out of algebra too! Best day ever!”

  “You’ll have to make up what you miss,” Nick reminded him.

  “Don’t ruin it.”

  The three adults laughed at the face he made. But then he came over to hug Nick, and Sam found herself swallowing a huge lump in her throat. She glanced at Shelby and saw her dabbing at her eyes.

  “Thank you,” Scotty said gruffly, his face pressed against Nick’s shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh God, buddy,” Nick said, hugging him harder. “Thank you. You’re the best thing to ever happen to us.”

  After a long hug, Scotty broke loose and came to Sam. “You too.”

  Sam wrapped her arms around him and held on tight to the child who’d made her a mom—not the way she’d hoped it would happen for so long, but what did it matter when she had the love of such a wonderful son? “Entirely our pleasure,” Sam said. Those three words were all she was capable of.

  Scotty hugged Shelby next. “Thanks for being such a good friend to me.”

  “I’ve never had so much fun at work,” Shelby said tearfully.

  “I’m going to finish my homework and take a shower.”

  “Okay,” Nick said. “Let me know if you need help with the math.”

  “I think I’ve got it.” He left the room and they heard his footsteps on the stairs as he took them two at a time.

  “Is anyone else’s heart about to burst?” Shelby asked.

  “Me,” Sam said.

  “Me three,” Nick added. “What a kid.”

  Sam reached for his hand and shared a smile with him.

  “I’m going to get out of your hair.” Shelby stood to take her plate and Sam’s to the sink, where she rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Then she put the remaining food away.

  “We can take it from here, Shelby,” Nick said.

  “Or he can take it from here while I watch and drink more wine,” Sam said.

  “That’s how she rolls,” Nick said with a weary sigh.

  “You’re probably the only vice president in the history of the universe who does his own dishes,” Shelby said as she put on her coat and wrapped a pink scarf around her neck.

  “Which is just fine with me,” Nick said.

  “Thanks for dinner and the laughs. I love hanging out with you guys. And Scotty… Sigh, what’s not to love about him?”

  “We keep waiting for the evil teenage years to kick in, but so far so good,” Sam said.

  “He won’t get evil,” Shelby said. “He doesn’t have it in him, and besides, he’s so damned happy to have a family to call his own that he’d never want to cause you any trouble.”

  “Fingers crossed,” Sam said.

  “I’ll see you in the morning!”

  “Have a good night, Shelby,” Nick said.

  “May I just say,” Sam said after the front door clicked shut behind Shelby, “that hiring her was the best idea I ever had?”

  “It was a good one.”

  “What would we do without her?”

  “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  Sam watched her sexy husband move around the kitchen as he finished cleaning up from dinner. He’d removed his suit coat and tie a
nd had rolled his sleeves up to reveal his forearms. Even his arms were sexy. Everything about him was sexy to her, and for the first time since the attack, she felt a burning need to connect with him physically—as soon as possible.

  She got up from the table and went over to where he stood at the sink, washing the pots and pans. Sliding her arms around his trim waist, she rested her head on his back and was thrilled to feel his belly quiver her hands.

  “What’s going on back there, my love?”

  “Oh, this. And that.” The old feeling was back. Her blood raced through her veins, heating her from the inside. An insistent throb between her legs was a reminder of what had been missing during the last few difficult weeks.

  “Let me turn around.”

  Sam released her tight hold on him and he turned, his sharp gaze taking a quick perusal of her face.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “You are.” She rubbed shamelessly against him. “I owe you a make up.”

  He combed his fingers through her hair. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I owe you everything.”

  “Samantha…” His lips came down on hers with a ferocity she hadn’t seen since that awful day that had nearly ended everything for them.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his tongue, pressing her body against his with an urgent need for more.

  A low growl came from deep inside him as his arms tightened around her. And when he softened the kiss and began to withdraw, she whimpered in protest.

  “Not here. Not now.” He kept his arms tight around her as his breathing calmed, but the press of his erection against her belly told her he was anything but calm.

  “Remember when we could do it right on the kitchen floor when we wanted to?”

  “Mmm.” His lips vibrated against her ear, making her shiver in anticipation. “But I’d rather have Scotty living here and not be able to do that.”

  “Me too. Any day. But we should look into a lock on the kitchen door just in case…”

  “I’ll get right on that.”

  “So upstairs later?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  She began to reluctantly release him, but he didn’t let her go.

  “It’s good to have you back, babe. I’ve missed you.”

  Sam brought him down for another kiss. “I’ve missed me too.”

  They went upstairs to check on Scotty and kissed him goodnight around ten. Nick went to take a shower while Sam tried to lose herself in a book her sister Tracy had given her during her convalescence. But the words ran together the way they did when she was tired or stressed or perhaps because she was still turned on from the kiss in the kitchen. She decided she couldn’t blame the dyslexia this time.

  And then Nick came out of the shower wearing only a towel and the book was tossed aside in favor of far more interesting things, such as his most exceptional chest and abdomen. “Bring that over here,” she said.

  “He’s not asleep yet, and I’m not touching you until I know I don’t have to stop.” He went into the closet and emerged wearing a T-shirt and basketball shorts.

  Looking for something to do for another few minutes, Sam reached for her phone to see if she had any texts. Her niece Brooke had replied to Sam’s earlier text asking how she was doing.

  Going well, Brooke had written. School is good and I’m seeing the shrink like I’m supposed to. I’m on boring best behavior! How are YOU?

  I’m fine, getting better every day. Thinking about getting back to work after the inauguration. Are you coming home for that? And boring best behavior is good. Proud of you, kid.

  Aww, thanks. Wouldn’t miss my Uncle Nick being sworn in. Looking forward to it. See you then!

  Love you, baby. Keep working hard.

  Love you too, auntie. Xoxo

  “Who you gabbing with?” Nick had stretched out next to her on the bed but left a six-foot gap between them.

  “Brooke.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “She sounds great. She’s coming to the inauguration. She said she wouldn’t miss her Uncle Nick being sworn in.”

  “That’s very sweet. I’m glad to hear she’s doing so well.”

  “So am I.” After Brooke had been drugged and gang-raped the night of the killings at the Springer home, Sam and her family had feared that their girl would never be quite the same. But she’d gone back to her private school in Virginia, determined to finish her senior year and graduate with her class.

  A bell rang on Nick’s phone.

  “Let’s go,” he said brusquely.

  “What was that sound?”

  “I set an alarm for one hour after he went to bed.”

  “You are too funny.”

  “I’m not funny, I’m horny. Now get upstairs and hurry up about it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  At the door to their bedroom, they gathered themselves and prepared to face the agent who would be positioned outside Scotty’s door. Sam had put on a bulky sweatshirt over the skimpy tank she had on under it so they wouldn’t see anything she didn’t want them to see.

  As they walked past the agent, she heard Nick say, “We’re not to be disturbed for any reason, except for if Scotty needs us.”

  “Yes, sir. Sleep well.”

  “Thank you. Goodnight.” He guided Sam up the stairs with both hands cupping her rear end. “Hurry.”

  She whipped the sweatshirt off on the way up, tossed it aside and turned to him, as desperate for him as she’d ever been.

  Chapter Eleven

  Outside the townhouse of Giuseppe Besozzi in the Manor Park neighborhood, the day had grown dark while Gonzo and Arnold waited for their person of interest to return home. They’d been there three hours so far without a sign of him. The last time Gonzo had business in this neighborhood, he’d nearly been killed. Being back here again brought back the insanity of that day.

  “How much longer do we gotta stay here?” Arnold asked for the twentieth time, or so it seemed to Gonzo.

  “Until he gets home.”

  “But our shift ended—”

  “Our shift ends when I say it ends.” Gonzo would love to get the hell out of there. He was hungry, tired and needed to pee, but they weren’t going anywhere until they spoke to Besozzi.

  The radio crackled to life. “How much longer are we going to wait, Sarge?” asked one of the Patrol officers who was providing backup.

  “Until he comes home,” Gonzo snapped back. What was with these people? They weren’t killing time out here. They were looking for a potential suspect in multiple homicides who had made people afraid to walk on city streets. This wasn’t just another day at work. This could be the break they’d been waiting for, and they were damn well going to wait until he got home, no matter how long it took.

  Arnold let out a loud burp.

  Gonzo rolled down the window to let in some fresh air.

  “Kinda cold to have the window down,” Arnold said.

  “Kinda gross to have to smell your burps.”

  “You’re in a foul mood today, boss man.”

  “I want to catch this bastard, and I’m no happier than you are to be freezing my balls off waiting for him to come home.”

  “We could turn the heater on for a while.”

  “We’re going to run out of gas if we do that, and besides, idling is bad for the environment.”

  “Freezing to death is bad for my health, but if you care about the environment more than you care about your partner…”

  “Will you please shut the fuck up? Just shut up and watch for our guy. If you sit there with your mouth shut until he comes home, I’ll even let you take the lead with him.”

  “Reall
y?”

  “Yep, but you gotta shut up about the cold and the time and how hungry you are and every other goddamned thing. You got me?”

  “I got you.”

  “How about you tell me how you’re going to approach him so we’re ready.”

  “I’ll say, ‘Mr. Besozzi, I’m Detective Arnold, Metro PD. My partner Detective Sergeant Gonzales. We wondered if we might have a few minutes of your time.’”

  “Excellent. And then what?”

  “Hopefully he’ll invite us into his nice warm home where I’ll ask him about his meltdown with Griffen and Smoltz and where he was the night Enright was stabbed.”

  “He might get mad at the implication.”

  “I expect that he will. I’ll say that we’re looking to rule him out, and if he has an alibi, we’d be happy to speak to that person.”

  “That’s good. Keep it friendly for as long as you can. You’re going to want to really dig in on the Griffen and Smoltz thing so we can get a sense for just how mad he was about what happened with Enright and the firm. He’s going to ask if they sent us to him, and you’ll want to say that no, they didn’t send us, but his name came up in the investigation into the stabbings and we wanted the chance to speak with him.”

  Arnold rubbed his cold hands together and breathed into them, trying to warm them. “How will I know if I should arrest him?”

  “You tell me.”

  “If he gets confrontational, refuses to answer questions, says something incriminating.”

  “Any of those things, but don’t jump the gun until he gives you probable cause.”

  “Got it. I can’t believe you’re actually letting me do this.”

  Gonzo rolled his eyes in the dark. Had he ever been so green? If so, it was such a long time ago now that he no longer remembered. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  “I’ll try not to.” He was quiet for several minutes. “You won’t let me fuck it up, will you?”

  “I’ll jump in if need be.”

  “Good.”

  Arnold was blessedly silent for a long time, holding up his end of their deal. “Could I ask you something that has nothing to do with when we’re getting out of here?”