Fatal Jeopardy Page 25

  “Why didn’t you tell me at the beginning of all this that another of Springer’s kids was under investigation by our department?”

  “I couldn’t risk compromising that investigation.”

  “It was relevant. You should’ve told me.”

  “I did what I thought was right.”

  Sam’s frustration mounted as she propped her hands on her hips. “Did they look the other way while their subject committed murder?”

  “Of course they didn’t,” Farnsworth snapped. “They didn’t think anything of a routine stop by his parents’ house, and were unable to break their cover until about twenty minutes ago to report in that he was there the night of the murders.”

  “So let’s go arrest him,” Sam said.

  “Not so fast. They’re this close to having him nailed on the drug charges. They want tonight to get it done, and then he’s all ours in the morning.”

  “Since when do drug charges trump murder?”

  “Since we’ve spent six months and significant department resources on this operation that’s not only targeting him, but two other major dealers in the city. Our people are on him. He’s not going to kill anyone else overnight with them watching him—”

  “He managed to kill nine teens while our people were watching him,” Sam reminded the chief.

  “He told them he needed to run into his parents’ house to talk to Hugo. He told them to wait outside for him, and he’d be right back. They didn’t know yet that Hugo had made off with Billy’s stash, so they had no reason to believe he was going to go ballistic with a knife. In six months undercover with him, they’ve never seen anything that indicated he had that in him. They’re as surprised as anyone.”

  “How’s that going to look for us when it gets out that we had undercover people on him when he committed mass murder?”

  “I’m working with Public Affairs now to manage the spin on that.”

  “So you’re the one who needs the time, not the narcs?”

  Farnsworth glared at her. “Lieutenant Holland, I’m telling you as the chief of police that vice will be allowed to complete their investigation of Mr. Springer and his associates tonight, and in the morning, your team will be permitted to proceed with your homicide investigation. Twelve hours isn’t going to make a difference here.”

  “I hope you’re right, sir, because I wouldn’t want to have to explain why we allowed a murderer to run free overnight, especially if he manages to kill again.”

  “He’s not going to kill again. We’ve got eyes on him, and we’re watching much more closely than we were before.”

  “That’ll help me sleep better tonight,” Sam said as her frustration reached a boiling point.

  “You’re all released until zero seven hundred,” Farnsworth said. “We’ll pick this up then.” He walked away, and they watched him go.

  “This is insanity,” Gonzo said. “Why do I feel like there’s something else going on here that everyone knows but us?”

  “It’s seriously fucked up,” Sam said. “Since when does narc stuff take precedence over homicide investigations?” She ran her hands over her hair and reclipped it. “We’ve been handed our orders, so go home. See you back here in the morning.”

  “That’s it?” Gonzo said.

  “That’s it,” Sam said. “He’s the chief. We do what he says.”

  “What about Hoda and Nico?” Freddie asked.

  “Let’s hold them overnight for arraignment in the morning,” Sam said. “I want her in a safe house until we sort things out with Billy. I’ll let her mother know what’s going on as a courtesy she hardly deserves.”

  “And Brody?”

  “I’m waiting on the DNA results to determine whether he’s the fourth guy in Brooke’s attack,” Gonzo said. “Either way, we’ve got him nailed for videotaping and posting the attack. So he can spend the night ahead of the arraignment too.”

  “Enjoy the unexpected night off,” Sam said as they returned to the pit.

  “Oh, I plan to,” Freddie said, waggling his brows as he flashed an adorable grin.

  “Yuck,” Sam said disdainfully.

  He walked away laughing, a jaunty spring in his step as he headed home to his hot-to-trot girlfriend for a night of debauchery. Speaking of debauchery, Sam wondered where Nick was and what had transpired at his meeting. If she had to take a night off, she planned to spend it with her husband and son.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Nick called Scotty to let him know he was going to Leesburg, Scotty asked if he could come along, so they swung by Angela’s to pick him up. Now Nick and Terry were seated in Graham’s cozy study while Scotty helped Laine, who was baking Thanksgiving pies in the kitchen.

  “Scotty has gotten taller since I saw him last,” Graham said.

  “He’s growing like a weed,” Nick said. “I have to take him to get some new jeans this weekend. He’s already outgrowing the ones we got him to start school.”

  “Just wait,” Graham said. “Boys grow the most in their teens. It’s about to get crazy.”

  “I wish we’d had more time with him when he was younger. I feel like we missed so much.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time with him—all the time that matters as he becomes a man.”

  “True.”

  “Enough with the small talk,” Terry said. “Cut to the chase, Nick. Tell him why we’re here.”

  Terry’s impatience made Nick and Graham laugh.

  “Ease up, son,” Graham said. “That’s no way to talk to your boss.”

  “He’s not my boss right now. He’s my friend, and he’s got the biggest decision of his life to make.”

  “What decision?” Graham asked.

  Nick appreciated hearing Terry refer to him as a friend. Because Terry was so impatient, Nick gestured at him, giving him the go-ahead to bring his dad up to speed on what was going on.

  “I thought you’d said no to him,” Graham said when Terry had finished.

  “So did I.”

  “Well... This is quite something, isn’t it?”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “Nick...”

  “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “If that’s the case, why’d you come all the way out here to talk to me?”

  Nick laughed at the older man’s comeback, thrilled by the sparkle of excitement he saw in his eyes. That sparkle had been dimmed over the last year since he lost his beloved son, so it was always a relief to see it return. His snow-white hair was disheveled, probably from a day spent riding horses. “Because I wanted to give you the chance to say it. I wouldn’t dream of denying you that.”

  Graham’s smile lit up his weathered face. “You know me far too well, my friend. Is there anything I can tell you that you don’t already know? Such as the fact that my good friend David Nelson is handing you the nomination in four years on an engraved silver platter?”

  “That thought may have crossed my mind.” Nick put down the drink Graham had poured for him and propped his elbows on his knees. “But that’s what I need to decide before I agree to anything. Is it what I really want?”

  “Only you know the answer to that question, Nick. I certainly can’t tell you what’s in your heart. I can tell you what’s in mine...” Graham said with a cheeky grin.

  Nick laughed and shook his head. “This I’ve got to hear.”

  “I look at you and I see a man in his prime. I see a man of principle. I see a man who leads with his heart. I see a man who’s one of the people, who came up the hard way with nothing handed to him.”

  “Except his most recent job,” Nick said, though he was humbled by Graham’s observations.

  “I hate that you think that.”

  “See?” Terry said.
“That’s what I say too.”

  “Nothing was handed to you, Nick. The Virginia Democrats chose the very best man for the job, and nothing that’s happened in the last year has changed our opinion of the man we chose. If anything, you’ve proven to us over and over again how spot-on we were choosing you to finish out John’s term.”

  “That’s very nice to hear.”

  “We’ve had this conversation often in the last year, and it really does my heart good to know you still mourn for John. I speak for my entire family when I say we have no doubt whatsoever you’d give it all up to have John back.”

  “I would,” Nick said softly. “Of course I would.”

  “That’s not going to happen, as much as we wish it was. All we can do is play the hand we’re dealt in this life, and right now, my friend, you’re holding all the cards—the royal flush most politicians would sell their souls to the devil to be dealt. And you didn’t have to sell anything to get the hand of a lifetime, which makes you different from most right out of the gate.”

  “What about Sam and Scotty? What about what this would do to their lives?”

  “How does Sam feel about it?”

  “She says she’d work around it, but we all know that’s easier said than done sometimes. And what if things go really well, and I have the chance to run in four years? What then? She won’t be ready to retire then, and the First Lady can’t be out chasing down killers.”

  “Who says?” Graham asked. “Maybe she becomes a pioneer in a new age of first ladies who keep their lives separate from their husbands’. Just because it’s never been done doesn’t mean it couldn’t be done.”

  “Why do you gotta make this look so damned possible?” Nick asked.

  Graham grunted out a laugh. “Because it is. Nelson wants you bad enough to let you set your own terms, which means Sam can too. He’s made it so you can stay in your home, Scotty can stay in his school, Sam can keep her job. The only thing that would really change is Secret Service protection for you and Scotty, a different office and probably a bit more travel, additional social obligations...”

  “All of which my wife would hate.”

  “So don’t take her. You’ve made her optional in all of this from the beginning. Nelson will respect that.”

  “What about the people of Virginia, who just elected me to be their senator for the next seven years? What do I say to them?”

  “You tell them you were presented with an opportunity too good to pass up, that your heart will always be with the commonwealth and that you’ll continue to focus on the issues that matter to you—and to them—in your new role.”

  “Damn, you’re good. Are you sure you weren’t a politician in your previous life?”

  Graham’s low chuckle made Nick laugh too. “What’s your gut telling you, son?”

  Nick would never be able to articulate what it meant to him when Graham called him that. He had a father of his own whom he loved, but he loved Graham as a second father and a dear friend. “It’s too busy being nauseated to tell me much of anything. And I’ve got no time at all to really think about it because they want to make the announcement on Friday. Gooding is really sick.”

  “I really hate to hear that,” Graham said sincerely. “Joe’s a good guy. He and I are old friends.”

  “And here again I’d be benefitting from someone else’s misfortune.”

  “That’s life, Nick. When someone gets sick or dies, someone else takes their place. Life goes on. It’s not like you’re going around killing people or infecting them with deadly diseases so you can get ahead in your career.”

  “Yeah, look at Arnie,” Terry said, “and the stuff he did to get where he wanted to be. There’s no comparison between that kind of pol and your kind.”

  Arnie Patterson’s greed for power had been the reason Derek Kavanaugh’s wife was murdered, and Nick appreciated the reminder that he was nothing like Patterson.

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Nick said. “The next step is to talk it over with Sam and see what she has to say.”

  Graham stood. “You know where I am if I can be of any help in the next few days.”

  Nick rose and gave Graham a hug. “You’ve already been a tremendous help. Thanks for letting me air it out with you.”

  “Any time. It’s always my pleasure.”

  “Let’s go see if Laine is ready to part with her assistant,” Nick said as he headed for the kitchen to collect his boy. He was eager to speak to his wife.

  * * *

  Sam arrived home and was bummed to see no sign of Nick’s car on the street. He’d texted her to say the White House meeting had been “interesting,” and that it was too much to talk about via text. Scotty, Terry and I are running out to Leesburg to see Graham and Laine. Will be back in a couple of hours.

  Since that had been a couple of hours ago, she’d hoped they’d be back by now. No such luck. Tossing her coat over the back of the sofa, she headed for the kitchen in need of something to eat. She stopped short in the doorway when she discovered their personal assistant, Shelby Faircloth, sitting at the table with a pad, pen and cup of tea. She wore a fluffy pink sweater with a matching headband.

  “What’re you doing here, Tinkerbell? I thought you went home for Thanksgiving.”

  “I did go home, but then I heard you’d caught another big case and that Brooke was in the hospital, so I decided to come back.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. You have a right to a vacation like anyone else.”

  “I know I didn’t have to, but my brother and his family were there. My sister-in-law is a whiner who does nothing but pick fights with my brother, their kids are brats, and I decided I’d much rather be here with you guys than there with them. Then I got a text from Avery about how his plans to go home to Charleston had changed...” She blushed as she shrugged. “I told my parents there’d been an emergency at work, and I needed to get back.”

  “So now you’re using us to get away from the bitchy sister-in-law?”

  “Sam... Now, did I say that?”

  “Not in so many words,” Sam said with a laugh. She couldn’t deny she enjoyed her conversations—also known as sparring matches—with the woman who’d planned their magical wedding and then became their essential right hand in the last few months. Sam pointed to the pad and paper. “What’re you up to?”

  “Making a shopping list for the Thanksgiving dinner you promised your relatives and friends, which I bet you’ve done exactly nothing to prepare for since your vacation got canceled.”

  She also couldn’t deny that Shelby knew her a little too well.

  Shelby’s laughter echoed through the kitchen. “I knew it! Where’s my favorite twelve-year-old?”

  “Off with his dad at Graham and Laine’s. They should be home soon.” Sam sent a text to both of them to find out where they were.

  Scotty wrote right back. On the 14th Street Bridge. Where are you?

  Home, waiting for you guys.

  Terry is bringing us.

  Sam wondered why Terry was bringing them, but she figured she could ask when she saw them. Ok, see you soon. Xoxo

  Gross.

  Sam laughed at his last text and then showed the exchange to Shelby.

  “You know he doesn’t really think your hugs and kisses are gross at all. He adores you.”

  “And vice versa.”

  “And you wonder why I’d rather be with you guys than home with the Bickersons?”

  “You’re always welcome with us. You know that.”

  “That’s very sweet of you. So what’re you doing here when you’ve got a murderer to catch?”

  “We’ve caught our murderer, but because of some departmental BS we’re not allowed to arrest him until the morning.” She shook her head in dismay. “Don’t ask
.”

  “Okay, I won’t. But I will ask if you’re okay. It’s been a rough week around here, huh?”

  “I’m better than I was. Things were pretty dicey for a while there with Brooke.”

  “But she’s...”

  “On the mend. Physically. Emotionally? That’s going to take a while.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really, but thanks for asking. I’m kind of talked out on that topic.”

  “I’m here if you need an impartial friend.”

  “I appreciate that. Since I’ve got this unexpected night off, I’d much rather talk about turkey and stuffing.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Sam and Shelby had a plan for dinner and dessert as well as a shopping list that Shelby would tackle in the morning. “Won’t Nick be impressed by the way I’ve got this all figured out?” Sam asked with a teasing grin.

  Shelby rolled her eyes. “If left up to you, your guests would’ve been served pressed turkey from the deli—if they were lucky.”

  “I’m offended by that statement.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Nick and Scotty came home a few minutes later, and Scotty came dashing into the kitchen. He lit up at the sight of Shelby, one of his favorite people.

  “What’re you doing back?” he asked as he hugged Sam and then Shelby.

  Shelby wrapped her arms around the boy who was taller than her, but it didn’t take much to be taller than Shelby. Her diminutive stature was one of several reasons Sam called her Tinkerbell. “Home was way more boring than it is here.”

  “It’s never boring here,” Scotty said. “Wait till you hear the latest. Tell them, Nick! It’s unbelievable!”

  “I told you not to get too excited, buddy. It might not happen.”

  “Still... You gotta tell them!”

  Sam noticed her usually unflappable husband looked more than a little flapped and maybe a tad bit drunk, which would explain why Terry had driven them. “I take it your meeting at the White House went well?”