Fatal Reckoning Page 8

  “Until we meet again, Dad, I will carry you with me everywhere I go, for you are as much a part of me as the nose on my face, the hair on my head, the smile on my lips and the fire in my belly to get justice for those who need it most.

  “On behalf of myself and my sisters, I extend my heartfelt love and appreciation to my stepmother, Celia Holland, without whom none of us would’ve survived the last four years. Celia, your tender, loving care of Dad before, during and after his injury gave him years he wouldn’t have had otherwise. Your love gave him a reason to get up each day and keep persevering through the best and worst of times. We will never have the words to properly thank you for all you did for him and for us. We are so lucky to have you in our family, where you shall remain forever a Holland.”

  Celia acknowledged her words with a tearful smile, full of the love she normally directed Sam’s way.

  Sam fixed her gaze on the honey-colored wood coffin. “To you, Dad, I say rest in peace and dance like a fool in the arms of your heavenly Father.” She saluted him. “Deputy Chief Holland, thank you for your dedicated service to the Metropolitan Police Department, the District of Columbia and its citizens. We’ve got the watch from here, sir.”

  She held the salute for a full thirty seconds, during which she vowed to devote every ounce of energy, heart and soul she had to finding the person who’d put him in that box.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE MPD AND Secret Service did a masterful job of getting the family and their closest friends into the cemetery with a minimal amount of fuss. Skip was officially laid to rest in a spot he had chosen himself. When the time came, Celia would be buried alongside him. Sam appreciated that his final resting spot was only a short distance from Ninth Street. She took comfort in knowing he would continue to be close by as he had been all her life.

  At the conclusion of the service, Reverend Swain hugged each of them and told Celia he’d be by to see her in the next few days.

  Sam hugged each member of her squad and thanked them for being Skip’s honor guard.

  “It was an honor, Lieutenant,” Detective Jeannie McBride said tearfully. “Thank you for asking us.”

  The others walked away to give the family a few final minutes with Skip.

  Flanked by her sisters, Celia stepped forward to place a red rose on his casket. Then she stepped back so his daughters, sons-in-law and grandchildren could place their flowers. Watching her nephew Jack, in his father’s arms, place that rose on his grandfather’s casket was almost more than Sam could bear. She had to look away.

  She’d had a lifelong aversion to cemeteries, and now was no different. After she, Scotty and Nick had placed their flowers, she took Nick’s hand and let him lead her back to the car, relieved to get the hell out of there even if it was painful to leave her father behind.

  The motorcade left the cemetery and conveyed them to the Hay-Adams.

  “I remember this place.” Scotty smiled at them when the iconic hotel came into view.

  Nick’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at Sam. “We had a little party here once.”

  She appreciated their attempt to bring some levity to a difficult day. “You were brilliant today, Scotty. Your words about Gramps meant so much to all of us.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I hope he would’ve liked it.”

  “He would’ve loved it. I have no doubt.”

  “Yours was really good too,” Scotty said.

  “I’m glad you thought so.”

  “It’s crazy how many police officers came from all over for him.”

  “More than ten thousand.”

  “Wow. That’s amazing.”

  “Anytime an officer is killed in the line of duty, the rest of the thin blue line shows up in force.”

  “What does that mean?” Scotty asked. “Thin blue line?”

  “Law enforcement is known as the symbolic thin blue line that stands between order and chaos in our society.”

  He appeared to give that concept serious thought. “You said Grandpa Skip was killed in the line of duty, but he was retired.”

  “He was definitely killed in the line of duty. It just took four years for him to die from his injuries.”

  “I see. Are you going after the person who shot him?”

  “You know it. With the case elevated to homicide status, that puts it under my purview. We’ll be taking a fresh look starting tomorrow.”

  “Don’t you think you should take a few days before you go back to work, babe?”

  “No.”

  Nick raised a brow. “Just no?”

  “Just no.”

  “Ruh-roh,” Scotty said.

  “I’ve heard from Freddie and Malone that the tip line has received some new information. No time like the present to seize the day while his death is still fresh in the minds of people who know what happened to him.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Nick said.

  “Nothing to talk about. I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

  They pulled up to the Hay-Adams a minute later, ending the conversation for now. Sam had full confidence that she and Nick would go-around about it again later, but she was not relenting. She fairly burned with the need for justice on her father’s behalf, like she had at the beginning, when it first happened. Then, she’d been driven almost to madness tracking down every lead and clue that had led nowhere.

  A busy life and the unrelenting pace of murder in the city had pushed her father’s case to the back burner, where it had remained on simmer. Now it was time to turn up the heat again and bring it to a boil once and for all.

  The Secret Service asked them to wait until they could clear the lobby to bring them in, so they sat in the car and watched one familiar face after another go by.

  “It’s weird that this is our party and we’re the only ones who can’t go in,” Scotty said.

  “You should’ve seen how it was in Europe,” Nick said. “I had to wait everywhere we went. Once for an hour until they were satisfied.”

  “We haven’t had a chance to even talk about the trip,” Sam said.

  “Eh, it was fine. The highlights were meeting the queen and the pope. Otherwise, it was meetings, dinners, photos, glad-handing. A lot of it was boring because my two favorite people weren’t there with me.”

  “Maybe we can do something this summer when I’m on vacation,” Scotty said.

  “I’ll let them know we’d be up for that if Mom can get the time off.”

  “I’ll get the time off.” She’d been encouraged to see Gonzo looking and sounding more like his old self than he had in months after one week in rehab. Maybe by the summer, he’d be ready to be left in charge for a few weeks so she could get away with the guys.

  “We have to go back to the beach again too,” Scotty said.

  “That’s a given,” Sam said.

  “Best vacation ever,” Nick said.

  “One of the best.” She winked to remind him of Bora-Bora and the times they’d had there for their honeymoon and first anniversary.

  “One of the best.”

  They were escorted into the hotel a short time later. As they walked through the lobby, everything seemed to stop and all eyes turned to them.

  “Goldfish,” Nick muttered, referring to his frequent comment that being vice president was like being a goldfish in a glass bowl. Everyone was always looking at him and them when his family was with him. Always the politician, he gave a little wave to the people who stared at them but didn’t stop moving so they wouldn’t be encouraged to approach.

  Today wasn’t for the public. Today was for the family and friends gathered in the rooftop ballroom who awaited their arrival. For the first time in days, Sam was ravenously hungry and sat with her sisters to eat delicious roast beef, chicken, potatoes and steamed vegetables.

  “I feel like I could eat the ent
ire buffet,” Sam said.

  “Me too,” Tracy said. “I haven’t eaten more than a few bites in days, but now I want everything in sight.”

  In contrast, Angela pushed the food around on her plate with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

  “You okay, Ang?” Sam asked.

  “I feel kind of sick inside.”

  “Heartsick or physically sick?” Tracy asked.

  “Some of both, maybe.” She glanced up at them with watery eyes. “I was going to tell you guys, but then everything with Dad happened.”

  “Tell us what?” Sam asked, stricken with fear of another looming disaster.

  “I think I might be pregnant again.” Angela winced as she said the words, which made Sam feel awful.

  “Ang... Don’t do that. It’s fine. I swear. I have Scotty and the twins now and baby Noah underfoot every day. I’m okay, and I’m thrilled for you and Spence.”

  “I’m glad you are.” Angela dabbed at her eyes. “This one was definitely not planned.”

  “But it’s still a blessing,” Tracy said. “And we’re all in bad need of some good news right now.”

  “It breaks my heart that this baby will never get to know Dad,” Angela said.

  “He or she will know him through us,” Sam said.

  “Won’t be the same,” Angela said.

  “Nothing will be,” Tracy said bluntly, “but we have to keep doing what we’ve always done and make him proud of us by taking care of each other.”

  Nick approached their table. “Sam, Graham and Laine were hoping for a chance to say hello.”

  “Duty calls.” Sam leaned in to kiss Angela’s cheek as she got up.

  Nick escorted her across the crowded room to where Graham and Laine were seated with Leo, Stacy, Terry and Lindsey. “Everything okay?”

  “Angela is pregnant and sad that Dad won’t get to meet the new baby.”

  “Well, that’s some big news.” He took a careful look at her, as if to gauge her reaction to yet another baby in their midst while she continued to be unable to conceive.

  “I’m fine.”

  They had a nice visit with Graham and Laine, who’d been like adopted parents to Nick over the years. And Sam finally got a chance to thank Terry for his efforts to get Nick home as quickly as possible the other day.

  “I wish it could’ve been faster.”

  “We appreciated the effort.”

  After the O’Connors left, Freddie came over to talk to her. “How’re you doing?”

  “I’m okay.” Sam felt like she’d said those words a thousand times over the last few days. She kept looking around for Skip and his wheelchair, thinking there was something she should be doing for him. Knowing he was finally at peace helped, even as she burned with the need to get back to work and start pulling every thread she could find in pursuit of justice on his behalf.

  Freddie eyed her with concern. “It was a beautiful tribute.”

  “That it was. I’m going back to work tomorrow with one goal in mind.”

  “I’ll be there to help.”

  “You’re on vacation until Monday.”

  He returned her fierce stare with an equally fierce look. “I’ll be there to help.”

  Realizing there was no point in arguing with him, she nodded.

  “Everyone’s going to O’Leary’s after this to raise a glass to Skip. Can you come?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.” She wouldn’t miss it. O’Leary’s had been Skip’s favorite haunt. Sam had frequently met him there for an after-work drink, including the night when she met Nick for the first time. “Spent a lot of time with my old man in that watering hole.”

  “I know you did, and I also know, at some point, the reality of this is going to set in and it’s probably not going to be pretty. I’ll be right there for you when that happens.”

  “There’s never going to be a time when I’m not pretty,” she said with a teasing grin.

  “Either way, I’ll be there.”

  Regardless of who might be watching, Sam rested her head on his shoulder. “Means everything to me that you were here for this.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

  * * *

  MUCH LATER, SURROUNDED by her brothers and sisters in blue, as well as her husband, Sam raised a shot of whiskey in tribute to her father and downed the liquor in one gulp that burned all the way through her.

  “To Skip!”

  That shot was followed by another and another, until Sam caught a comfortable buzz that took the edge off her raw emotions.

  Then Archie busted out a heartfelt, soaring rendition of “Danny Boy,” surprising and delighting his colleagues with a beautiful voice that brought tears to Sam’s eyes that she didn’t try to contain. She didn’t have to in this crowd where she was surrounded by friends who’d loved her father almost as much as she had.

  Nick stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders as Gonzo and Cruz flanked her.

  Gonzo drank only water.

  Sam was well and truly plastered by the time Nick and Freddie helped her into the Secret Service vehicle that waited at the curb to take them home. She pretended she couldn’t hear Nick and Freddie talking about her.

  “It’s probably good for her to blow off some steam,” Freddie said.

  “Agreed,” Nick replied. “But she’ll regret it in the morning.”

  “She said she’s going to work.”

  “I want her to take another day.”

  That’s not going to happen. Sam tried not to puke in the pristine Secret Service SUV. Comfortable numbness was much preferred to the ache that came with profound loss.

  Nick said good-night to Freddie and got in next to her, gathering her into his embrace.

  She’d tried to tell him he didn’t have to come to O’Leary’s, that it was a cop thing and he could go home if he wanted to, but he’d insisted on sticking with her. Scotty had gone home with Celia and would spend the night there.

  “I’m glad you came with me.” Her words were slurred, but she didn’t care.

  “So am I.”

  “Wanna know why I’m glad you came with me?”

  “Can’t wait to hear this.”

  “You come with designated drivers.”

  “Is that all I’m good for?”

  “That’s one of many things you’re good for.” She rested her hand on his leg and started to slide it upward when he stopped her. “Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud.”

  He laughed. “Will you remember any of this tomorrow?”

  “I’ve never forgotten a second that I spent with you.” She pushed his hand away and continued her quest to get at what she wanted.

  “Samantha.”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you hold that thought until we get home?”

  “As long as I’m allowed to indulge that thought when we get home.”

  “You can indulge all you want when we’re behind closed doors.”

  “Okay.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, closed her eyes and sighed, the stress and strain of the last few days leaving her in a whoosh of air. “Nick...”

  “I’m right here.”

  “My dad...”

  “I know, honey.”

  “What am I supposed to do now?”

  He held her tighter, his lips skimming her forehead. “You’re supposed to keep doing what you do and keep making him proud just by being your perfect self.”

  Tears burned her eyes, so she closed them. Just for a minute.

  * * *

  HER QUESTION BROKE Nick’s heart. What would she do without Skip? He couldn’t begin to know, but he hoped she would take comfort in being reminded of how proud her father had been of her. Her body went lax against his, and he was relieved that she had fallen asleep.

 
When they arrived at Ninth Street, Nick lifted Sam into his arms and carried her up the ramp, into the house and straight upstairs, where he helped her out of her uniform and tucked her into bed. He was kind of glad she’d let loose with her colleagues and had gotten a little drunk after the week she’d had.

  He went to look in on Aubrey and Alden sleeping peacefully after spending the evening with Shelby and Avery, who were asleep with Noah in the guest room. Thank God for good friends at times like these.

  Keyed up after the long, emotional day, Nick changed into sweats and a T-shirt and went downstairs to have a drink. He’d abstained during the day so Sam could let loose. But now he needed to take the edge off.

  Bourbon, he decided, having been weaned on it at Graham O’Connor’s table while at Harvard with Graham’s son John. He poured a healthy shot and took it to the sofa, pulled out his phone and checked his messages for the first time all day. Work stuff could wait for the morning, he decided, not wanting to fuel his insomnia with stress. He read a text from Freddie.

  I’m worried about Sam. Has she cried yet?

  Not that I’ve seen, Nick replied. I think she was holding it together in public.

  She says she’s going back to work tomorrow. Is she ready for that?

  I suppose we need to let her decide that.

  Yeah, I guess. I’ll be there to keep an eye on her.

  That’ll help. It meant so much to her that you came home to be with her.

  I wouldn’t have missed it. What a day this was.

  I know. It was amazing. He would’ve loved it.

  Yes, very much so. Try to get some sleep.

  You too.

  Nick already knew that she hadn’t cried yet. He’d checked with her sisters as well as Scotty. Now Freddie had echoed his concerns.

  Brant came out of the room the Secret Service used as an office, the bag he carried to and from work on his shoulder. “Mr. Vice President. I almost didn’t see you there in the dark.”