Fatal Flaw (14 page)

“It’s a hell of an effort. A daily battle, but I seem to be winning. I’ve been going to the gym, I’ve lost thirty pounds at last check, and I feel better than I have in years. I love my job, and I’m enjoying my family in a way I never have before. I can’t imagine ever going back to the way I was existing—day to day with no purpose and nothing much to live for.”

Listening to him, Lindsey experienced a surge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could really work.

“I don’t mean to be trying to sell you,” he added. “I’d understand if I was too big of a risk for you to take, especially growing up the way you did.”

“I don’t feel like I’m being sold anything. I appreciate that you’re being truthful with me.”

“I am, Lindsey. I swear I am.”

“I believe you.”

“So what now?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ve missed talking to you since you left the other night.”

“I’ve missed talking to you too.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope.”

Lindsey closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath and took the leap. “There’s a pizza place in my neighborhood that’s to die for. Interested?”

“In having to-die-for pizza or seeing you?”

Her face heated the way it used to in middle school when Johnny Lubock tossed his hair in her direction. “Either. Both.”

“I’m interested in both—one more than the other.”

She felt her face flush with heat as she told him the name of the place and the address. “Twenty minutes?”

“I’ll see you there.”

Sam stood over her father, watching his chest rise and fall as the ventilator forced air into his lungs. All she could think about was the promise she’d made to him more than two years ago, shortly after the shooting when he’d pleaded with her to not let him live in a vegetative or unconscious state. If it ever came to that, he’d said,
do
something. At the time, Sam had given her agreement more to pacify him than anything. But she’d also taken steps to ensure she had what she needed should that day ever arrive.

Was it here now? She thought of the prescription she had stashed in a safety deposit box at the bank. She’d put it there during the dark days that followed the shooting, never thinking for a minute that she’d actually use it. When it came right down to it, how would she ever end the life of the man who’d meant everything to her all her life? Even knowing it was what he’d want didn’t make the idea of it any easier to handle. Imagining life without Skip Holland was like trying to picture an existence without air or water or food. Or Nick.

As if she’d conjured him up, he appeared behind her and began massaging her shoulders. “We should go home and get some sleep while we can.”

Before Sam could reply, a nurse bustled into the room and began checking the monitors. “How is he?” Sam asked.

“About the same.”

Hearing that, Sam wanted to scream with frustration. All those hours of high-powered drugs and he was exactly the same?

“The good news,” the nurse said, “is he isn’t any worse. He’s holding his own.”

Sam would take the good news where she could find it.

“I enjoyed the photos from your wedding,” the nurse added with a shy smile. “You made for a beautiful bride and groom.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” Sam said. The wedding seemed like such a long time ago. “If we leave for a couple of hours, he won’t die, will he?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think he’s in any danger of dying at the moment. If anything changes, we could certainly call you.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Nick said. “Let’s go for a while, babe.”

Sam leaned over the bed to kiss her father’s forehead. She liked to think he could feel it, that he knew she was there. “I’ll be back soon,” she said. “Hang in there, Skippy, you hear me? Don’t give up.”

Straightening, she was relieved to feel Nick’s arm around her shoulders. In the waiting room, Tracy jumped up when she saw them coming. “How is he?”

“The same,” Sam said, “which is apparently a good thing.” She repeated what the nurse had told her.

“That’s something anyway,” Tracy said. “You guys should go home for a while.”

“We are. Call me if anything changes? Anything at all?”

“I will,” Tracy said, hugging them both.

Sam and Nick walked through the quiet hospital to the parking lot.

“Why don’t you leave your car here?” he said. “I’ll bring you back in the morning.”

Since Sam was dead on her feet, she gladly agreed with his plan and sank into the comfort of his BMW. Her mind was racing with everything that’d happened that day. It was unlike her to be indecisive about next steps, especially in a murder investigation, but the worries about her father had scrambled her brain and shot her legendary concentration all to hell.

Hanging over everything was that damned promise she’d made him at a time when she would’ve given anything just to have him live for one more day.

“What is it, Samantha? I can hear you churning over there.”

Did she dare tell him? No, because then it would be his burden too. If she ever had to actually keep her promise and there was trouble over it, he could honestly say he hadn’t known about it. That would be better for him politically, even if it went against her effort to be more forthright with him.

“The woman who was murdered—I know her from somewhere, but I can’t figure out where.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of it when you have less on your mind.”

“Yeah, I guess. Tomorrow we’ll dig into her friends, and maybe something will pop there.” She looked out the window at the city rushing by as they headed for Capitol Hill. “Am I doing the right thing continuing to work while my dad is in there?”

“He’d hate to have you keeping a vigil at his bedside. He’d much rather have you out there solving a murder.”

“What about my sisters and Celia? Will they think I’m horrible if I keep working?”

“I was with them all night, and I never heard the first hint of anything like that. They know how your job is and that your dad would want you seeking justice for the woman who was killed.”

“I wish I could run this one by him. I have all this crap in my head about the new case, this lead Gardner gave us about my dad’s shooting, the creepy cards. It’s all floating around in my brain refusing to come to any kind of order.”

“It’s only natural you’d be off your game right now, Sam. This thing with your dad has to have you totally freaked out, even if you’re trying hard to hide that from everyone.”

Of course he saw right through her. Didn’t he always?

He parked at the curb outside their Ninth Street townhouse.

Emerging from the car, Sam noticed the lights were on at her dad’s house. “I’m going to check on Celia. I’ll be right there.”

“All right, but don’t be long. You need to sleep.”

What she needed was to burrow into his loving embrace and let it all go for a few hours. Nothing cured what ailed her more than sleeping in his arms. “Yes, dear.”

He rolled his eyes at her and headed for their place.

On the short walk to her father’s house, Sam glanced around at the murky shadows, hyper-vigilant since her ex-husband had waylaid her the night before the wedding. An odd sensation crept down her spine, and Sam was almost certain someone was watching her. She raced up the ramp to her father’s place and rapped on the door. “Celia, it’s me.”

The door swung open. “What’ve I told you about knocking here?” Her stepmother looked like she was ready to drop from exhaustion.

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Don’t be silly. Come in.”

“I saw the lights and figured I’d check on you.”

“That’s sweet of you, honey.”

“How’re you holding up?”

“Oh well, you know. Not so hot. I finally manage to get myself married and now he’s in the hospital fighting for his life.”

She was so dejected that Sam crossed the room and wrapped her stepmother in a tight hug.

Celia returned the hug, and the two of them stood there like that for a long time. “Of course I knew we might get very little time when I married him,” Celia said, wiping a tear from her face. “But I still want more. We haven’t had enough.”

“The nurse said it’s a good sign he hasn’t gotten any worse.”

“Yes,” Celia, a nurse herself, agreed. “It is. But if he’s not much better by this time tomorrow, it means the antibiotics aren’t working. We may have to make some tough decisions.”

Just the thought of it made Sam sick to her stomach.

“You still have the prescription, right?”

Startled, Sam stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know all about it.”

“Oh, well…”

“If we need it, I want to know we have it. I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry.”

“All day today,” Sam said, “I’ve been thinking about the promise I made to him at a time when we had no clue whether he’d have any quality of life at all. Since then, he’s had a rough go of it, but it hasn’t been all bad. I can’t help but think he’d want us to do everything possible to get him through this so he can come home and get back to his life with you.”

“I agree he’s not the same man he was days after the shooting when everything seemed so grim.” The two of them had been secretly dating before the shooting, which is why Celia had volunteered to oversee his care at home. “But as his wife and next of kin, I won’t allow him to exist tied to machines that are breathing for him.”

Sam had never heard her sweet, unassuming stepmother speak so forcefully.

“I want you to get that prescription from wherever you’ve stashed it, and bring it to me. The moment it’s in my hands it’s off your shoulders. Do you understand me?”

Stunned by the exchange, Sam couldn’t seem to form the words she needed. “But you won’t, you know, unless he’s…”

“I wouldn’t begin to consider it until I know there’s no hope of him recovering in any meaningful way.”

“And you know to be careful, to make sure no one would ever know.”

“I’m a nurse, Sam. I know exactly what to do, and as his wife, I’d ensure there’s no autopsy.” She put a hand on Sam’s arm and squeezed. “Let me relieve you of this burden.”

Sam held her stepmother’s gaze for a long moment before she nodded. “Okay. I’ll get it for you tomorrow.”

Celia let out an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Sam said, heading for the door.

“Oh, honey,” she said, sounding more like the Celia Sam knew. “Before you go, there’s more mail for you.”

Sam’s stomach dropped.
“More?”

Celia went to the kitchen and returned with a plastic shopping bag full of envelopes. “It just keeps coming.”

“Great,” Sam muttered, taking the bag from her.

“Try to get some sleep.”

“You too,” Sam said, even though she doubted either of them would sleep at all that night.

On the short walk home, she replayed the conversation with Celia. She’d never seen such steel in her stepmother’s backbone before, but in hindsight, she probably should’ve suspected it was there all along. Sam’s phone chimed with a text message. She retrieved it from her pocket and flipped it open.

“Too bad someone had to die because of you. Who will be next? An old friend.”

Sam stopped short on the sidewalk. “What the hell?” She took another long look around, still having the odd sense that she was being watched the way she used to before she learned her ex-husband had, in fact, been stalking her. With a couple of stints in jail and a restraining order in place, she figured he’d know better than to screw with her again, but Peter never had been known for his common sense.

Of course the sender’s number was unavailable, but she’d have it traced anyway. She walked up the ramp to their house and used her key in the door. Once inside, she called HQ and instructed a third-shift detective to trace the source of the text message.

Wearing only a pair of gym shorts, Nick came downstairs just as she was finishing up the call.

She took a moment to enjoy the splendid sight of her husband’s muscular chest. Only his presence could make her mind go blank, which was rather welcome after the day she’d had.

“What’s going on, babe?”

“Weird text message.” She’d learned the hard way that telling him the truth about the crazy crap she encountered through her job made for a more harmonious relationship.

“Let me see.” He held out a hand, and she gave him her phone.

She watched his amiable expression harden. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I wish I knew. Are they inferring that Crystal Trainer died today because of me? I swear I know her from somewhere, but I can’t remember where.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. What could you have possibly had to do with the death of a woman you don’t even know? So what if you recognized her. Think of all the people you’ve met during twelve years on the force, not to mention growing up here and living in the city for almost thirty-five years. You could know her from anywhere.”

“True.”

“Don’t take this on, babe.” He handed the phone back to her and extended his arms.

Sam went to him and rested her head on that chest she loved so much. Soft dark hair brushed against her face. “What if they’re referring to someone else besides Crystal? Maybe someone else has been killed, and I don’t know it yet.”

“If that’s the case, you’ll hear about it soon enough.”

“I suppose.”

“Let’s go to bed. You’re exhausted.”

Since she couldn’t argue with that, she let him lead her upstairs. She decided to take a quick shower, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom he was already in bed. As she crawled in next to him, she decided that being married was about the best thing since diet soda, a thought she shared with him.

Without opening his eyes, he chuckled. “That’s quite a compliment coming from the diet-cola queen.” He held out his arm, inviting her to come closer.

“I miss my soda,” she said with a sigh as she snuggled up to him.

Nick ran a hand up and down her back in a gesture that soothed and comforted her. It also turned her on, which she hadn’t expected after the day from hell. She slid a leg between his and pressed kisses to his chest.

“What’re you up to, Mrs. Cappuano?” he muttered, sounding half-asleep. One part of him, however, was very much awake.

“You haven’t gotten your daily dose today.”

“You’ve got other things on your mind tonight.”

“I did have other things on my mind, but then I got in bed with you, and it seems I have only one thing on my mind.” As she spoke, she curled her hand around his burgeoning erection.

One gorgeous hazel eye popped open, probably to gauge her intent.

“But if you’re too tired…”

Before she knew what hit her, he was on top of her, poised between her legs.

“The day I’m too tired for this,” he said, peppering his words with kisses, “is the day I’m no longer breathing.”

Sam combed her fingers into his hair, holding him still so he’d continue kissing her, and raised her hips, inviting him in.

He teased her, denying her what she wanted, until she let out a squeak of frustration that made him laugh.

Sam took matters into her own hands by reaching down and putting him where she wanted him.

Nick let out a gasp as she clutched his backside and took what she wanted from him. His forehead landed on her shoulder as he slid into her.

She loved him this way, overcome by the heat they generated together. If she knew him, he’d rally in a minute and take her where no one else ever had. Only he could drive the thoughts of the day and the worries about her dad from her mind. She rolled his earlobe between her teeth and whispered, “I love you. More than anything.”