Fatal Accusation Page 13

  “About six,” Nick said, always truthful, even when the truth hurt.

  Scotty groaned. “I’ll never make it until then.”

  “What would you like to be studying?” Sam asked.

  “Sports management. I think I’d like to be an agent. They make bank, and they get to hang out with all the coolest athletes. What could be a better job than that?”

  “I can’t think of anything cooler,” Nick said.

  “It’s way cooler than being vice president,” Scotty said, his eyes brimming with amusement.

  “Dude,” Nick said, “being the dog catcher is cooler than being VP.”

  Scotty lost it laughing. “And you don’t have to have Secret Service if you’re the dog catcher. And hello? Dogs.”

  “That’s the job I want next,” Nick said.

  “We need a dog around here,” Scotty said. “Kids shouldn’t grow up without a dog.”

  “Says who?” Sam asked. The last thing they needed was someone else to take care of.

  “I saw it on Instagram.”

  “Change the Wi-Fi password,” Sam said to Nick, who grunted out a laugh. “The kid has access to too many ideas.”

  “Stop trying to change the subject and the Wi-Fi password. We need a dog.”

  Sam shook her head. “We do not need a dog. We can barely remember to feed you and the twins every day. A dog would starve to death in this house.”

  “It would not. I’d take care of it.”

  Sam hooted with laughter. “Famous last words uttered by kids everywhere before the dog shows up. Once the dog is in residence, no one wants to take care of it.”

  “I would,” Scotty said, completely serious now. “I’d never let my dog go hungry or not take care of it. Ever.”

  Sam believed him. He wasn’t your average thirteen-year-old. He’d been through a lot, seen too much, and would probably be the best kind of dog owner. “The management will take it under advisement.” When his eyes lit up with excitement, she quickly added, “That is not a yes. It’s a we’ll-think-about-it.”

  “That’s better than a no.”

  “Another half hour and then lights out,” Sam said when she leaned in to kiss his forehead.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Night, pal,” Nick said.

  “Night.”

  “We love you,” Sam said on her way out the door.

  “Love you too.”

  In the hallway, they headed for their own room.

  “Did you just tell him we’ll think about getting a dog?” Nick asked.

  “I think I did.”

  “What’re you smoking?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  He cracked up laughing. “Be careful. My wife is a cop. If she catches you, she’ll bust your ass.”

  “She’s got to catch me first.” Sam pulled off her clothes and changed into the sweats that were hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. “Ah, much better. What did Shelby leave for dinner? I’m starving.”

  “Roast beef and potatoes.”

  “Yum. Feed me.”

  “Right this way.” He led her downstairs to the kitchen and got her plate out of the oven, uncovered it and served it to her with a bow and a flourish.

  “Sexiest waiter in town.” She never got tired of looking at his handsome face, chiseled body and sexy ass.

  “Stop objectifying me and eat your dinner.”

  He poured two glasses of red wine and brought them to the table, sitting across from her while she devoured the tasty dinner. Thank God for Shelby Faircloth, who made sure none of them starved to death.

  “So, how bad is it?”

  Sam knew exactly what he was asking and noticed the torment he’d managed to keep hidden until they were alone. “It’s early days yet, but I can tell you she was manually strangled in her bed. There was no sign of forced entry, so we’re running with the theory that she knew the perp and let him—or her—in.”

  With his elbows propped on the table, Nick ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly until it was standing on end. “Are you seeing any link to Nelson?”

  “Nothing yet. I’m hoping something pops from the building security video and/or the autopsy. Hopefully, we’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “As you could see when you came home, the press is going wild over this story. The speculation alone is going to drive Nelson from office. ‘How could it not be him’ one of the pundits said. People are asking what he’d have to gain by killing her, which is a good point. The damage was done when news of the affair came out.”

  “I need to dig into how that leaked. I doubt that either of them would’ve told anyone. Who would want to bring this kind of attention down on themselves, especially him. What would be his motive in killing her after the whole world found out about them and the possibility that the affair had led to a baby?”

  “It wouldn’t make any sense.”

  “Which is why I like the jealous lover possibility better.”

  “You mean she had someone else?”

  “I haven’t seen any sign of another man yet, but we’re still looking into her movements over the last few weeks. Her cell phone is missing, so that’s making everything more difficult. Archie has her laptop in the lab, and now it’s just a waiting game to see what he and Lindsey find.”

  “The pressure on Nelson to resign is nuclear level. It’s all people were talking about in the West Wing today. Hanigan and Derek want to resign,” he said of Nelson’s chief and deputy chief of staff. “They’re disgusted by the whole thing. People like Gloria. They hate that he did this to her, especially when she was sick. The media has also been relentless in their criticism of her choosing to keep her illness private.”

  Sam shook her head as she sighed. “What right do they think they had to that info?”

  “She’s a public figure, and as such, the public has a right to know.”

  “No, they don’t. She didn’t run for anything. She’s not on the taxpayer payroll. She plays a huge role and doesn’t get paid a dime for her time or her talents.”

  “I totally agree and said as much to Derek when we talked earlier. He’s beside himself over this. Wants nothing to do with Nelson or the White House or any of this nonsense.”

  “This would hit him hard after losing his own wife,” Sam said.

  “It hits every guy who loves his wife and can’t imagine ever betraying her the way Nelson did Gloria. It’s revolting.”

  “It really is. The thing I can’t get over is, did he honestly think he’d get away with it?”

  “He did get away with it for a long time.”

  “True. I’m afraid I’m going to end up having to interview him for the investigation.”

  Nick winced. “That’d be awkward.”

  “Right? What I want to know is how did the word leak out about the affair? Who else knew about it?”

  “You should definitely dig into that. It might yield some threads you can pull.”

  “I will. Tomorrow.” She drained the last of her wine. “Is there more?”

  “Yep.” He got up and brought the bottle back to the table, refilling both their glasses.

  “How are you holding up?” She noted the furrowed brows and the tick of tension in his cheek that gave away his current stress level.

  “Just ducky. Never been better.”

  She smiled at his predictable effort to deflect so she wouldn’t worry about him on top of everything else. “You know what you need?”

  “Um, is that a multiple-choice question?”

  Sam dissolved into helpless laughter. He was so damned cute. “It can be. But what I was going to suggest was a massage. You’re looking awfully tense, Mr. Vice President.”

  He raised a brow, a look that took him from handsome to devastatingly sexy in one sub
tle move. “And you think your hands all over me will reduce my tension?”

  “It might increase your tension at first, but we think we have the secret to achieving an overall reduction in the gross national tension.”

  Nick choked on a sip of wine, coughing as he laughed. “Your analysis of the situation is spot-on. We may have a job for you at OMB.”

  “Oh dear God. Can you see me working at the Office of Management and Budget?”

  “Not even kinda,” he said, deadpan. “I think they do a lot of algebra there.”

  “I’d stab someone with my rusty steak knife on the first day.”

  “It’s probably better if you continue to hunt down killers rather than becoming one. You’d look hot in prison orange, but I’d miss you.”

  “We’d have conjugal visits though.” She waggled her brows. “We need to play that game again.”

  “Yes, please.” He panted dramatically. “That was so hot.”

  She reached for his hand. “Thanks for this.”

  “For what?”

  “This. You, me, wine, flirting, laughing. It’s just what I needed.”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “You don’t ever need to thank me for doing my favorite thing in the whole world.”

  “It’s my favorite thing too. How about that massage?”

  “Yes, please.” They cleaned up the kitchen, started the dishwasher and went upstairs together, peeking in on the twins, who were out cold, and Scotty, who was watching the end of the game.

  “Lights out the minute it’s over,” Nick said.

  “’K,” Scotty said, sounding sleepy.

  “He might not make it to the end of the game,” Sam said, after Nick had closed the door to their room, sealing them off from the rest of the world for the night. They had a monitor on the bedside table that would alert them if either of the twins awoke, which was rare. The first few weeks had been tough, but they had settled into their new home and routine and were sleeping better now.

  Which meant she was sleeping better too. Nick’s insomnia was made worse by stress. Being vice president hadn’t been good for that situation, and sometimes she wondered how he functioned at such a high level when he got so little sleep. Hopefully, she could help him relax a bit so he could rest. “Get naked.”

  “And this is supposed to help with the tension? Just clarifying.”

  Sam laughed as she went into the bathroom to get changed into one of the sexy nightgowns that he loved so much, brush her teeth and retrieve the massage oil. “Are you naked?”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Thank God for him and their family and the respite she found here after spending her days dwelling in murder and mayhem, she thought as she smoothed on the vanilla-and-jasmine-scented lotion he loved. Sometimes she wondered if she’d still be doing the job if she hadn’t reconnected with him when she did. After a crack house shooting had left a child dead on her watch, she’d questioned whether she could go on. Shortly after that, she’d run into her unforgettable one-night stand from six years earlier at a murder scene. In their relationship, she’d found a source of strength that allowed her to deal with the insanity in the rest of her life.

  Her dad used to tell her not to bring the job home with her. That was often difficult in light of the nature of what she did, but Nick made it easier to draw that line between work and home because when she was with him, it was almost impossible to think of anything but him.

  She tucked a towel under her arm. “Are you ready for me?”

  “If I were any more ready, it would already be over.”

  She ventured to the doorway, striking a pose.

  He lay facedown on the bed, his head turned toward her and his eyes brightening at the sight of her.

  “What would be over?”

  “What’s about to transpire here.”

  “I offered a massage. Not sure what kind of massage parlor you think I’m running here, sailor...”

  “I paid for the happy-ending package.”

  She lost it laughing. “That’s so gross.”

  “Nothing gross about it, baby. Come on over. I’ll show you.”

  Sam sauntered toward him, going for maximum effect, and watched his hazel eyes go hot with lust. She loved the way he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her the way he did. “If your constituents could see you now, Mr. Vice President, bare-ass naked and propositioning a masseuse for the happy-ending package... It’d be a scandal, I tell you.”

  “I’m willing to buy your silence.”

  Sam got on the bed, straddled his back and squeezed her thighs against his sides, drawing a deep groan from him. “I’m listening.”

  “I’d like to set up regular appointments. I’ll pay top dollar.”

  “You have my attention.”

  “The only thing is, my wife, she’s the jealous type, carries a gun and rusty steak knife. We’ll need to be careful. I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

  “I’ve heard your wife can be a nasty bitch when someone looks at her man.”

  “She’s quite unmanageable. That’s why I need you, a nice docile woman to lube me up and finish me off.”

  Sam laughed hard. “I’m not sure whether to be amused or alarmed by these fantasies of yours.”

  “Only amused. All in good fun.”

  She rubbed the oil into his muscular back, kneading the knots from his shoulders and neck, and taking note of just how many knots there were. The poor guy was riddled with them. “You can’t take all of this to heart, Nick,” she said, dropping the act. “It’s not good for you.”

  “Hard not to when you’re a heartbeat away from the Oval Office and the current occupant keeps fucking up. I know I’ve said it before, but I wish I’d stayed in the Senate where at least I could make an impact that matters.”

  “You are making an impact that matters. Knowing you’re there, waiting in the wings if need be, is the steadying presence we need right now. That matters to people. If the worst should happen, we’ll be in good hands with you at the helm.”

  “How do we know that? I’d be one of the youngest presidents to ever hold the office. Who’s to say I wouldn’t make a bigger mess of it than Nelson did?”

  “Me. I say. You’d be magnificent at it. You care so much about people and making things better for them. You know what it’s like to come from humble beginnings and the struggles of regular people. You’d be the best president we ever had. I have no doubt whatsoever about that.”

  “You’re making me want to leave my wife for you.”

  Sam snorted with laughter and gave him a playful spank. “Watch your mouth, sailor.”

  “Let me turn over.”

  She sat up and placed the towel so the oil wouldn’t ruin the sheets she’d splurged on, not that she had any idea what the hell a thread count was. All she knew was that the number was high, as was the price, so she wasn’t looking to ruin them. When he was settled, she resumed her spot on top of him.

  He ran his hands up her legs, under the gown to cup her ass. “Hi there.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “So much better now.”

  “I’m worried about how stressed out you are. I don’t need you keeling over with a heart attack or something equally dreadful.”

  “I’m fine. I swear. Harry keeps a close eye on me.”

  “He’d better.” Sam made a mental note to check in with the good doctor tomorrow to share her concerns about the VP’s stress.

  “There’s this other thing you could do that would really help my blood pressure.” He lifted his hips ever so slightly, pressing his hard cock against her while waggling his brows suggestively.

  “I’m new to this happy-endings thing, but won’t that raise your blood pressure?”

  “Temporarily. The end result is well worth the
risk.”

  “If you’re sure there won’t be any negative effects... I wouldn’t want to have to face your wife if you die in my bed.”

  “Are you really so good that I’d be risking my life?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Yes, I really would.”

  “Alrighty then. It’s your life.” She raised herself up and took him in, sliding down slowly and going for maximum effect. Judging by the way his eyes rolled back in his head, maximum effect was achieved.

  “God, Samantha... How does this get better all the time? How is that even possible?”

  “I have no idea, but you’re right. It does.”

  They moved together effortlessly, like two actors who’d practiced the blocking of this scene so many times they could perform the moves by heart. But every time they played the roles, there was something different from the time before.

  He ran his hands up her back and brought her down for a kiss. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Same.”

  “I always want more.”

  “Mmm, we’re ridiculous that way.”

  “I love our kind of ridiculous.”

  “Me too.”

  “Now, about that happy ending I was promised...”

  She broke free of his hold and sat up. “Coming right up, sir.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IN THE MORNING, Sam had breakfast with the kids and was on her way out the door when Nick came downstairs, fresh from a workout and a shower and dressed for work. He had his phone in hand and a frown on his face.

  “What fresh hell are you coming to deliver?”

  “I was texting with the guys about a possible poker night in the next few weeks. Imagine my surprise when Freddie asked me how you were after seeing Conklin yesterday.”

  He was pissed and a little hurt, if her guess was correct. “Sorry that I didn’t mention it, but it was really no big deal.”

  “Seriously, Sam? It was no big deal to confront the man who sat on the info about who shot your dad for four years? That was just another day at the office?”

  “Okay, so it was a thing, and I dealt with it. Then Tara was found dead, and that took over my day. It’s called compartmentalizing. It’s my special gift.”