Fatal Chaos Page 29

  “Hey, Jeannie, I have to run. Call me if anything new pops.”

  “Will do. Feel better.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lilia approached the sofa and stopped short when she caught a look at Sam’s face. “Oh my Lord! What happened?”

  “I caught a fellow officer in flagrante delicto, and since he’s married with five kids and a sixth on the way and was supposed to be at a work conference and not frolicking in Atlantic City with his mistress, he failed to appreciate my superior investigative skills.”

  Lilia sat in an easy chair across from Sam. “He hit you?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Oh my goodness.” She cringed as she took a closer look at the damage to Sam’s face. “How can that just happen at a place of work?”

  “My place of work is a whole lot different than yours.”

  “Still. It’s uncivilized.”

  Sam laughed. “Perfect word to summarize police work in general.”

  “And politics. Especially lately. What can I do to help?”

  “Well, if you know a talented makeup artist…”

  She pulled out her smartphone. “I can find someone.”

  “I have no doubt you could, but I was kidding. My primary concern is that someone will say that my husband did this. I want to know how we should handle it since I can’t exactly hide it.”

  “We’ll issue a statement that you were involved in an automobile accident, and then assaulted on the job. Lieutenant Holland is back to work after being hospitalized overnight, and is working to catch the perpetrators of the recent spate of drive-by shootings that have terrorized District residents.”

  “Damn, you’re good.”

  “Thank you. That’s my job, and I don’t think anyone would dare to say your husband hurt you when the whole world can see that he’s mad about you.”

  “Yes, he is,” Nick said when he joined them, unleashing that potent smile on poor Lilia, who flushed.

  Sam held out a hand to him, and he sat with her on the sofa. “Lilia already has the perfect statement to explain away my latest disaster.”

  “Excellent,” Nick said, squeezing Sam’s hand.

  “Needless to say, we’re being overrun with requests for comments about the current situation from you both. I wonder if you’ve given any thought to a public statement?”

  Sam glanced at Nick, nodding.

  “We have, and our plan is to meet with the Nelsons,” he said. “Depending on how that goes, we’ll either make a statement expressing our support for the president and first lady, or I’ll testify in the hearings.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Lilia said. “Do you mind me asking what you hope to gain from the meeting?”

  “I want to see their eyes when they tell us they had nothing to do with it,” Sam said. “I’ll know if they’re lying.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you approve?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, well, it doesn’t matter if I approve.”

  “It matters to me.”

  “Then yes, I approve. I think it’s a good idea for you to speak directly to them and have the chance to ask your questions and determine whether they’re sincere.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “You should also know that just about everyone who works for you and the Nelsons is on edge about what’s going to happen. The White House is fraught with a nearly unbearable level of tension.”

  “I’ve seen that myself,” Nick said, “and I’m sorry it’s come to that.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” Lilia said fiercely. “This was done to you, not the other way around.”

  The more time Sam spent with Lilia, the more she liked her—and she wasn’t known for liking a lot of people.

  “We appreciate your loyalty,” Nick said.

  “It’s my pleasure to serve you both.” She reached into the briefcase she’d brought and retrieved a document. “I took the liberty of compiling some additional information about Christopher Nelson that you may not be aware of. Such as, did you know he was expelled from four different boarding schools?”

  “We had no idea,” Nick said.

  “He also has a sealed juvenile record.”

  “That I did know,” Sam said. “We had no luck getting a judge to unseal it during the investigation.”

  “I haven’t seen his actual record, but people talk, and the word is he was heavily into drugs—dealing and doing—which is what got him kicked out of school. His father was a prominent senator from South Dakota, who swept his son’s misdeeds under the rug to keep them from becoming public.”

  “He basically set him up for what came later by valuing his political career more than his own son,” Sam said, glancing at Nick. “That sounds familiar.”

  “Graham O’Connor made similar mistakes with John and paid for them dearly,” Nick said.

  Knowing how painful it was to think about what’d become of his best friend and boss, Sam cradled his hand between both of hers, wishing she could crawl into his lap and wrap her arms around him the way she would have if they’d been alone.

  He sent her a small grin, letting her know he appreciated her support. Their silent communication was another thing to love about him.

  “I’ll just leave this here in case you need it.” Lilia placed the report on the coffee table. “Everything in there has been substantiated by at least two people who would know. I hope I can count on your discretion in not revealing your source.”

  “You can absolutely count on our discretion,” Sam said. “We appreciate the limb you went out on to put that together.”

  “I wanted to make sure you have all the information you need.” She pulled another piece of paper from her bag. “On another note, we’ve received dozens of new requests for you to speak at events pertaining to fertility, learning challenges, paralysis and law enforcement, to name a few. I’ll leave this here, and you can let me know if any of the invitations interest you.”

  Sam had received rave reviews for her keynote address to the fertility group.

  “We’re still getting emails from women who were touched by your infertility journey,” Lilia said, producing another stack of pages that she placed next to the others on the table. “I printed out a sampling of them that I thought you might enjoy.”

  “Wow, it’s so nice of them to write to me.”

  “You can’t know how much you touched people who’ve shared your struggle. For them to know that someone like you has been where they are is so helpful to them. The staff has been reduced to tears by some of their letters.”

  “Someone like me? I’m just a regular person.”

  Nick and Lilia laughed at that.

  “Sure you are, babe. Just a regular girl running around putting murderers in jail while serving as the country’s second lady.”

  Lilia pointed to Nick. “What he said.”

  The front door opened, and in walked Dr. Harry Flynn. His gaze immediately locked on Lilia, who flushed an even brighter shade of pink this time.

  Very, very interesting.

  “Hello there,” Harry said as he joined them, appearing to have come straight from work, judging by the white dress shirt and pinstripe navy tie he still wore. He had dark hair and eyes and dimples that were nothing short of dreamy. “I hear our favorite cop-slash-second lady has gotten herself into yet another scrape.”

  “You heard correctly,” Sam said, flashing the injured side of her face. Combined with the bruise under the butterfly bandage on her forehead, she was a hot mess.

  “Yikes.” Tipping his head for a better look, he said, “I think it’s actually an improvement.”

  “Ha ha,” Sam said. “Very funny.”

  “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

  “I never laid a hand on him. I’ve learned my les
son about using my fists on the job.”

  “Is he at least in jail?”

  “Nope.” Sam told him about her encounter with Offenbach and the reasons for his ire.

  “Damn,” Harry said. “Imagine having five kids and another on the way and deciding to have an affair. People suck.”

  Lilia, Sam noticed, hung on his every word. The idea of the two of them together made Sam giddy with happiness. She adored Nick’s longtime friend and had wanted to find someone perfect for him. Lilia more than met the criteria, as far as Sam was concerned.

  Nick offered their guests drinks, and the four of them passed an entertaining hour discussing the latest goings-on in Washington as well as Sam’s vexing case.

  When they got up to leave, Sam asked Lilia how she had gotten there.

  “I took a cab.”

  “I’m sure Harry would be glad to give you a ride home, wouldn’t you, Harry?”

  “Of course,” he said with an indulgent smile for Sam as Lilia’s face flushed an adorable shade of scarlet once again.

  If Sam was any judge of character—and she liked to think she had a superior handle on human nature—her chief of staff had a big bad thing for their friend, and vice versa. It was all she could do to contain her giddiness until they had departed.

  “And you say I suck at subtlety,” Nick said when they were alone.

  “What’re you talking about? That was smooth as silk.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of bull in a china shop.”

  She glared at him as best she could with one working eye. “You want to be in another fight?”

  “Absolutely not.” Grinning, he helped her up from the sofa. “I’d much rather go to bed and snuggle my matchmaking wife.”

  Amused by him, not that she’d ever let on, she said, “I thought you might say that.”

  * * *

  “MORTIFYING,” LILIA SAID when she was settled in the passenger seat of Harry’s black Porsche Panamera.

  “What was?” he asked as he navigated the Secret Service checkpoint at the end of Ninth Street.

  “Mrs. Cappuano’s shameless matchmaking!”

  “Mrs. Cappuano,” he said with a chuckle. “It sounds so funny to hear her called that.”

  “That’s who she is.”

  “She’s just Sam to me.”

  “I can’t call her that, even though she wants me to.”

  “You could but you won’t. Big difference.”

  “It’s not professional.”

  He reached across the console and took her hand, loving the way she tensed before relaxing again. “You’re the very epitome of professional, and calling her Sam when you’re alone with her wouldn’t make you any less so. She likes you. She doesn’t like anyone.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  “No, she really doesn’t, but I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about why I haven’t heard from you when you told me you’d call me.”

  “I… I’ve been busy. All this business with the Nelsons and Cappuanos has been stressful, to say the least.”

  “That sounds like an excuse to me. I’ve regularly heard from Nick and Sam, and they’re as caught up in that business as you are, if not more so.”

  “They’re avoiding it. That’s not an option for the staff.”

  He squeezed her hand, heartened by the fact that she didn’t push him away. “I thought we had a good time that night.”

  “We did.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her face light up with embarrassment. God, he loved that she couldn’t hide a single thing from him because her face gave her away every time. He’d spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about her and hoping he’d hear from her while resisting the urge to pursue her relentlessly. After one fantastic night with her, he already knew that strategy would backfire on him.

  “So why didn’t I hear from you? And don’t say it’s because of work. No one, not even you, works twenty-four hours a day.”

  “I was embarrassed.”

  Of course, he knew that already, but he loved hearing her admit it. “Why?” He knew that too, but he wanted her to say it.

  “Because! Y-you… You’re their good friend and I… I…”

  “Jumped into bed with me on our first date?”

  She jerked her hand out of his grasp and covered her ears. “Stop it.”

  Harry laughed. How could he not? She was simply adorable. He’d thought so from the first time he ever laid eyes on her in the conservative suit with the pearls and the heels that did wondrous things for her legs. So neat and proper. Such a lady. Except in bed…

  There he’d seen a whole other side to the delightful Lilia Von Nostrand. Even her name was sexy and classy as hell.

  “It’s not funny! You’re one of their best friends, and I…”

  “Had fantastic monkey sex with me?”

  “I hate you right now.”

  “No, you don’t, and that’s the problem.”

  “Who said there’s a problem?”

  “I say there is. I’ve thought of you constantly since I last saw you, while waiting and hoping you’d call me. I gave you the space I figured you needed to process what happened, but I’m done giving you space. I want you. You want me. And we’re far too old to be playing teenager games.”

  “I work for your friend,” she said, sounding desperate.

  “Who just pushed you into my car. She wants us together. The only question that remains is why don’t you want us together?”

  “I never said I didn’t.”

  “Your silence spoke volumes, sweetheart.” He pulled up to the building in the DuPont Circle neighborhood where she lived and where the aforementioned monkey sex had taken place, put the car in Park and shut it off, turning to her. “What’s the problem?”

  She stared down at her lap, where her hands were tightly folded, probably the way the nuns had taught her. She gave off a Catholic schoolgirl vibe that he found wildly attractive.

  “Lilia, look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  Taking her by the chin, he compelled her to look at him and was stunned to see her big brown eyes awash in unshed tears. “Talk to me. I want to understand what’s going on.”

  “I don’t… I don’t do things like what I did with you.”

  “Have sex?”

  She closed her eyes, which forced a couple of tears to slide down her cheeks.

  He brushed them away with his thumbs, and then took full advantage of her closed eyes to kiss her softly.

  Her eyes popped open. “Don’t.”

  “Why not?” he asked, doing it again.

  “Because.”

  “Because why?” Was it his imagination, or was she leaning in to his kisses? No, definitely not his imagination. “Tell me what it is you don’t do.”

  “Sex on the first date with my boss’s friend.” She flushed again, and he kissed the rosy blush on her cheeks.

  “Your boss approves, and as for sex on the first date, it happens. It doesn’t make you any less of a good girl.”

  “Yes, it does. That wasn’t just sex. That was…”

  “Phenomenal, life-changing, must-do-it-again-soon-or-die-from-wanting-to sex?”

  She sighed deeply, her body losing some of its rigidity.

  He kissed her again, this time using his tongue to coax his way into her mouth, satisfaction and desire flooding him when she responded with strokes of her tongue against his. “Invite me in,” he whispered against her lips.

  She groaned, and he went hard as stone.

  “Please invite me in.”

  “Harry, I can’t—”

  He turned his attention to her elegant neck, and yes, necks could be elegant. Just take hers, for example. And those pearls just did it for him. “Yes, you really
can. I promise you won’t go to hell.”

  “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “I’m not. I swear to God I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are, so you shouldn’t swear to God.”

  Adorable. So, so adorable. And mine. He’d never had such a thought about a woman in his life. “Invite me in.”

  She tipped her head to give him better access to her neck, so he used his lips, tongue and teeth to close the deal.

  “You can’t park here,” she said a minute later when her body trembled with the same desire that gripped him.

  “Show me where.”

  She pointed to a garage, gave him the code to get in and directed him to a visitor spot.

  He got out of the car and went around to collect her before she could change her mind, taking comfort in the way she gripped his hand as she led the way to the elevator. On the way up to her apartment, he pushed her into a corner and kissed her again with weeks’ worth of pent-up desire. Thoughts of her, of their one night, had driven him mad as he’d tried to wait her out.

  He’d never been so happy to see anyone than he was to see her at Nick’s tonight, and he had a feeling Sam had set up the whole thing. He’d have to remember to thank her when he got the chance.

  Lilia’s arms curled around his neck as she kissed him back with the kind of heat that had kept him awake at night, recalling the pleasure he’d found with her and wondering if it was going to be a onetime thing or the start of something more.

  This, right here… This could be significant. The dinging of the elevator arriving at her floor had him pulling back from her while staring down at her big eyes and swollen lips. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, took her hand and towed her along with him from the elevator to her door.

  She fumbled with her purse and keys and took far too long to get the door open and walk inside.

  He closed it and went to relieve her of the heavy briefcase and matching purse that he placed on the floor in the foyer. It had come as no surprise to him the last time he was here that her apartment was right out of a Ralph Lauren photoshoot with everything exactly where it belonged and nothing that might smack of clutter anywhere to be found.