Fatal Identity Read online

  Sam exhaled a deep breath she’d been holding since she got the call from his office earlier. “Thank you.”

  “I want to be clear about something. I’ll do this once. And only once. The next time something that should result in clear-cut charges comes across my desk, I’ll handle it the way I would for anyone else.”

  “Understood.”

  “Great.” Forrester stood, indicating the meeting was over. “Thanks for coming in.” He shook hands with each of them and sent them on their way.

  They didn’t speak until they were in the elevator.

  “He’s smooth,” Kurt said. “He found a way to get you off the hook and save face for his office at the same time.”

  “I won’t be off the hook until the grand jury rules,” Sam said.

  “The likelihood of them bringing charges against a popular vice president’s equally popular wife are slim to none,” Andy said. “And Forrester knows that.”

  “You should be prepared for a firestorm in the media,” Kurt said. “When it gets out that Forrester is taking the case to the grand jury rather than moving forward with charges, your boy Ramsey isn’t going to take that well.”

  “I can handle it,” Sam said.

  “It’s apt to get really ugly,” Andy said. “For you and for Nick.”

  Sam hated to be the source of trouble for him, but she knew what he would say if he were there. “Nick agrees that Ramsey had it coming after what he said to me, and I have to believe that most rational people would’ve done what I did in the same situation.”

  “I guess you’ll find out,” Andy said, holding up his phone so she could see the headline on his screen.

  U.S. Attorney Meets with Vice President’s Wife Ahead of Assault Charges. The story was already on the Star’s website. She zoomed in for a closer look and saw that one of Darren’s colleagues had written it.

  “How do they already have that?” Kurt asked.

  “Ramsey,” Sam said. “He saw me coming in here, knew why I was here and went straight to the media with it.” Sam’s phone rang, and when she saw Freddie’s name on the Caller ID, she said, “I’ve got to take this. Thanks again for coming.”

  “Anytime, Sam,” Andy said.

  “Keep us posted,” Kurt said as he walked away with Andy.

  “What’s the latest?” Sam asked.

  “Jeannie and Tyrone went hard at Mrs. Hamilton,” Freddie reported. “They and everyone who watched aren’t sure if she knew that Josh was Taylor Rollings. When they asked how Josh came to be in her custody she clammed up and asked for a lawyer. The guy she wants is in New York and can’t get here until tomorrow, so she’ll be spending the night.”

  “And Jacoby?”

  “Lawyered up. His guy is in court today, so he’s a guest of the city for the evening too.”

  “Excellent, which means they’re all mine when I get back tomorrow.”

  He snorted with laughter. “We predicted that’s what you’d say. Since most of us have been working since Sunday, they sent us home until zero seven hundred when we’ll pick it back up.”

  Her phone rang with another call, this one from Nick. “Get some sleep, and I’ll see you then,” she said to Freddie. “Thanks for the update.” She hoped she was hitting the right button to take the other call. “Hi, there.”

  “Something you want to tell me, babe?”

  “It’s good news actually.”

  “Not according to the Star.”

  “You gonna believe them or me? I was the one in the meeting with Forrester.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “He’s taking it to a grand jury.”

  “So that means...”

  “He’s hoping there won’t be an indictment because of who I am and because of who you are.”

  Nick’s low whistle echoed through the phone. “Crafty.”

  “We thought so too.”

  “We?”

  “Andy and his friend Kurt, a criminal defense attorney, who came to the meeting with me.”

  “How come I didn’t know there was going to be a meeting?”

  “I only found out myself an hour ago, and I didn’t want you to worry until there was something to worry about. Turns out, there probably isn’t.”

  “Still, you should’ve told me only so I could reassure you and tell you everything would be okay. That’s my job, so you’ve got to let me do my job.”

  Sam smiled as she walked out to her car. “It’s very sweet of you to want to reassure me. Thank you for that.”

  “How’re you feeling?”

  “Shitty, so I’m heading home. I’ll see you there?”

  “As soon as I can possibly get out of here. Get some rest and dream of Bora Bora.”

  “Mmm, I can’t wait.”

  “Won’t be long now. Love you, babe.”

  “Love you too. Wake me up when you get home.”

  Sam hadn’t expected to drive home from her meeting with Forrester with a smile on her face, but Nick’s call had cheered her up considerably. The best news of all? Tomorrow she could go back to work and hopefully close this baffling case once and for all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  GONZO STOPPED FOR flowers on the way home. He asked the florist for something exceptional, and she’d come through with a huge bouquet that was so fragrant, he’d had to open the car windows so he could breathe. By the time he reached the landing outside their apartment, the grand gesture felt silly rather than romantic. As if a bunch of smelly flowers would make up for the shit he’d put her through.

  He was on the verge of taking them downstairs to trash them on the street when the door flew open.

  “I thought I heard you out here.”

  Keeping the flowers behind his back, he said, “How’d you know it was me?”

  “I’ve listened for you for more than a year now. I recognize what you sound like coming up the stairs.”

  “And I’m supposedly the detective.”

  “I’ve got mad skills,” she said with the flirty smile that reminded him of life before disaster struck. “What’re you hiding?”

  “Oh. Right.” He unveiled the flowers and held them out to her, feeling like an idiot until he saw her face light up with pleasure.

  “Tommy... They’re beautiful! Thank you.”

  He followed her to the kitchen where she found a vase and arranged the flowers to her liking.

  When she was finished, she turned to find him watching her. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just enjoying the view. It’s nice to see you smiling.”

  “You make me happy when you bring me flowers for no reason.”

  “They’re not for no reason. They’re for a million reasons.” He went to her, put his hands on her shoulders and gazed down at her gorgeous face. “They’re because you stayed when it would’ve been easier not to. They’re because you love my son like he’s your own. They’re because you love me even when I don’t deserve it.”

  She started to shake her head, but he stopped her with his fingers on her chin.

  “Yes, Christina, sometimes I don’t deserve your love, but I’m always so damned thankful to have it.”

  Curling her arms around his neck, she went up on tiptoes and kissed him. “Remember the night we met?”

  “Of course I do. What about it?”

  “I was such a mess that night. John O’Connor had been killed and my heart was broken into a million pieces. I’d been so crazy about a man who’d never thought of me the way I thought of him.”

  “He was the crazy one. Look at what he missed.”

  She gazed up at him, a smile curling her lips. “One hour after I met you, I knew everything would be all right. That’s all it took, Tommy. One hour to fix everything that was br
oken inside me.”

  “You give me way too much credit,” he said, humbled by her unwavering love for him.

  “And you don’t give yourself enough. When you look back at the last year, all you see is the hard stuff. You don’t see the wonder, the joy, the magic. You don’t see everything you’ve given me. I have a son because of you. I have a life that I never could’ve dreamed of when I was working sixteen hours a day and thinking I had a great life when it was empty and meaningless.”

  Gonzo ran his fingers through her hair and kept his gaze fixed on hers as he kissed her. “The night I met you was the luckiest night of my life.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “How long has Alex been asleep?”

  “About thirty minutes.”

  “Mmm,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “that gives us about ninety minutes before he wakes up.”

  “We could watch a movie.”

  “We could. Or... We could finish what we started yesterday.”

  “You’ll have to refresh my memory—”

  He picked her up, making her squeal with surprise. “Shhh, don’t wake him up. We’ve got stuff to do.” Gonzo carried her into their bedroom and shut the door. He put her down next to the bed and tugged her sweater up and over her head, leaving her in a sexy, lacy pink bra that did wondrous things for her breasts. Bending his head, he nuzzled the plump tops, earning a moan from her. He reached behind her to unhook the bra and pushed the straps off her shoulders.

  She unbuttoned his shirt and flattened her hands on his chest before sliding them down to unbutton his jeans.

  Her touch resulted in a predictable and welcome reaction, and he made a conscious effort to stay focused on the here and now, to give her a fraction of what she’d given him by not letting his demons derail him again. She unzipped him carefully, working around the bulge that got bigger by the second.

  And when she dropped to her knees to work his pants and boxers down over his hips, the weeks without her, without this, nearly resulted in a premature finish. Thankfully, he was able to control himself long enough to experience the sublime pleasure of her tongue on his cock, the heat of her mouth and the tight grip of her hand. She effectively cleared his mind of every thought that wasn’t about her and the way she made him feel when she touched him this way.

  “God, Chris...” His head fell back and his knees buckled. “Baby, wait. Let’s do this together.” He reached for her, helped her up and brought his lips down on hers. He’d missed this so much. He’d missed her. He’d had no idea how much until right now. They came down on the bed in a tangle of limbs, desire pounding through him like an extra heartbeat.

  “Tommy, I want you. Now.” She helped him get rid of her yoga pants, and he yanked on the tiny panties that barely covered her. The fragile fabric ripped in his hand, baring her to him.

  She took him in hand and guided him to where she wanted him most, to where he wanted to be more than he’d wanted anything in weeks. The sweet relief flooded his system, the powerful punch of emotion nearly reducing him to tears. He’d come so close to losing her too.

  Gonzo gathered her in close to him, holding her tight while he throbbed inside her.

  She ran her feet up the back of his thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips.

  “Love you, baby. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Tommy. More than anything.”

  “It’s going to be better. I promise.”

  She buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him again, her mouth opening to the deep thrusts of his tongue. They moved together in a familiar rhythm, seeking reunion as much as release. He broke the kiss to take her nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting down just hard enough to get her attention. Her internal muscles contracted tightly around his cock and she cried out when she came, fisting his hair and digging her nails into his ass, which triggered his release.

  Afterward, he came down on top of her, aware as always of how much bigger than her he was, but unable to move. Not yet. Not when it felt so damned good to be with her this way. He wasn’t ready to let go of the small taste of heaven, to return to the nightmare in progress.

  In the gray afternoon light, lying in the arms of the woman he loved, his son asleep across the hall, Gonzo found a small measure of acceptance. His partner was gone. No amount of wishing or hoping or begging would ever change that simple fact, and nothing he could do would ever bring him back. For whatever reason he’d been spared, and it would be up to him to live for both of them.

  He would never forget the young, earnest, smart, eager, often-annoying, but incredibly sweet man who’d taken a shot that technically should’ve killed Gonzo. Intellectually, he knew it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t pulled the trigger to fire the bullet that killed his partner. But emotionally... He would always blame himself for putting Arnold in the position that had led to his death, and somehow he had to find a way to live with that.

  “What’re you thinking about, Tommy?”

  “I’m thinking about acceptance and finding a way to go on that honors my partner rather than disappoints him.”

  “You could never disappoint him. He worshipped you.”

  “It would disappoint him if I let his death ruin my life, if I quit a job I used to love because he was killed, if I became a drunk or worse. Any of that would disappoint him.”

  “You could never be or do any of those things.”

  “I don’t know... I was well on my way to all of them before the coffee table shattered and woke me up to what really matters.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He turned them over so she was on top of him and ran his hand down her back. “You, Alex, our family, my squad. The people I love, the people who love me. That’s what matters.”

  She lifted her head off his chest to look him in the eye. “You matter, Tommy. You matter so much to all of us.” Leaning forward, she kissed him softly. “It’s nice to have you back.”

  “We’d been talking about getting married before everything happened.”

  “We’ll get there. When the time is right, it’ll happen.” Hands propped on his chest, she sat up and began to move her hips, which was all it took to restart his motor. “The first time only took fifteen of our ninety minutes. How about we see how much we can get done in our remaining seventy-five minutes?”

  The sexy gleam in her eye made him smile even as he realized how close he’d come to losing her. “I’m down for that.”

  * * *

  SAM WOKE TO a dark bedroom and soft lips on her back.

  “Shhh,” Nick whispered. “I told Scotty I was coming up to wake you for dinner.” He cupped her ass and squeezed. “Are you recovered enough for a quickie?”

  “Mmm, yes please.” Languid and relaxed after a great nap, she floated on a cloud of contentment as he shed his clothes and resumed the sensual massage, his hands and lips coasting over her back and bottom.

  “Your skin is like silk, Samantha.”

  She squirmed, trying to get closer to him, to find some release from the throbbing pressure between her legs. “You said we had to be quick.”

  “We do.”

  “Come on then.”

  His soft chuckle irritated and amused at the same time. He loved to torture her, to make her beg, to make her come like she never had before him. His fingers dug into her hips as he lifted her to her knees and moved her legs apart. “I can’t wait until next week when I can worship this sweet ass for an hour before I do this.” He slammed into her, stealing the breath from her lungs and wrenching a sharp cry of pleasure from her lips.

  “Shhh.”

  “Don’t do that and then tell me I have to be quiet.”

  His hand came down on her ass, drawing another moan from her. Then he picked up the pace and reached around to caress her clit. The combination h
ad her on the verge of release within seconds. Normally, when they had time to spare, he’d back off and make her wait, but tonight he didn’t make her wait, driving her to an explosive release that had her biting the pillow to keep from screaming.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “Just like that. Ah, God, Samantha...” He came as hard as she had, his fingers digging into her flesh as he heated her from the inside. “I can’t wait to have ten full days in bed with you.”

  “Is that all we’re going to do?”

  “That’s it. Every minute of every day for ten beautiful days.”

  “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” She squeezed the hand he’d placed over her fast-beating heart.

  “And that, my love, is why you’re the best wife I’ve ever had.”

  Sam snorted with laughter. “I’m the only wife you’re ever going to have.”

  “In that case, thank God I got it so very, very right the first time around.” He took a nibble of her shoulder and soothed the sting with his tongue. “Now get your lazy ass out of bed so we can have dinner with our son.”

  * * *

  RECHARGED AND READY for battle, Sam arrived at her office at six-thirty the next morning to go over the reports that had been filed in her absence. Technically, her suspension didn’t end until zero seven hundred, but no one was around to snag her on the thirty-minute technicality.

  Before she dug into work, she took a moment to fire off an email to the president of the Fraternal Order of Police union about the bills her father had been hit with after his surgery. He responded right away, pledging to look into what they could do, and Sam thanked him. She hoped they could do something to help with the bills.

  With that taken care of, she focused on the autopsy report for Troy Hamilton, which confirmed the blow that caved in his skull had ended his life. Approximately twenty other hits had been redundant and were indicative of the murderer’s rage. Fingerprints found on the golf club belonged to Hamilton, the man who served as his caddy and Jacoby, who often played with Hamilton. Avery had noted in the file that Jacoby’s prints on the club didn’t mean he was the murderer. Records at their exclusive club put Jacoby on the golf course with Hamilton at least fifteen times in the last year alone.