Fatal Identity

“Stop,” he whispered. “I can feel you spinning. Everything is fine. I promise.”

Sam took a deep breath, closed her eyes and carried his assurances to sleep with her.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_5661000e-0e4c-5657-84aa-e15eacee2067)

NICK WAS RELEASED from the hospital the next afternoon. With the hospital surrounded by photographers hoping for a glimpse of the ailing vice president, the Secret Service arranged for him to be released through a loading dock.

“I’ve been officially reduced to cargo,” he said when they were settled in the back of one of the big black SUVs.

Sam took hold of his hand. “Precious cargo.” Though he looked a thousand times better than he had yesterday, he was moving slowly and his face was still paler than Sam had ever seen it.

They were whisked through the streets of the city with the kind of efficiency only the Secret Service could provide in the notoriously clogged District. On the way up the ramp to their house, Nick waved to the photographers that had gathered outside the Secret Service checkpoint on Ninth Street.

“I predict that photo will be on the front page of every paper in the country tomorrow,” Sam said.

“Maybe they’ll stop frothing at the mouth now that they know I’m going to live.”

“Too soon for jokes.” Her cell phone rang, and after a brief glance at the caller ID, she ignored the call from Darren Tabor. He was on her shit list after publishing the article about her suspension.

Melinda, the agent on duty, opened the door for them. “Welcome home, Mr. Vice President. Good to see you looking well.”

“Thanks, Melinda.”

Sam wanted to tell Secret Service Barbie to get her filthy eyes off her husband, but she held back that urge. One of these days...

Scotty came rushing toward them, hurtling himself into Nick’s outstretched arms, which cleared Sam’s mind of every thought that wasn’t focused on her family.

“So glad you’re home,” Scotty said.

“Good to be here.” Nick smiled at her over Scotty’s head as he hugged their son for much longer than usual since Scotty had become a teenager and began recoiling from most forms of parental affection. “You’re feeling better?”

“A lot better today. How about you?”

“Same. Still not perfect, but better.”

“This would be a good day to binge watch Star Wars,” Scotty said.

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” Nick replied.

They went upstairs to the master bedroom, and Sam got them settled in bed with remote controls and tall glasses of ice water. She’d been taught a big lesson about the perils of dehydration and was pushing the water hard.

“Move over and let me in,” she said to Scotty.

“You hate Star Wars.”

“True, but I love you, and I need some snuggles.”

He curled up his lip at the word snuggle, but he moved closer to Nick to let her in.

She had just gotten settled when her phone rang again. Prepared to tell Darren to fuck off and leave her alone, she flipped open the phone.

“Sam, we’ve got a problem,” Freddie said. “You need to get over here.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Josh is going off the rails. He’s terrified his father is going to have him killed.”

“What? He said that?”

“He’s been ranting about it all morning. I tried to talk him down because I know you’re dealing with Nick and the flu and everything, but he’s losing it. Nothing I say gets through to him.”

The last freaking thing she felt like doing was leaving the nice warm bed and her two favorite people, but she couldn’t let Freddie twist in the wind alone with Josh. “Where are you?”

“Crystal Gateway. He’s paranoid about me calling you. He’s convinced Hamilton is probably having you followed.”

“How would Hamilton even know I’m involved?”

“Josh says he knows everything.” After a brief pause, Freddie added, “In case there’s any truth to it, shut your phone off before you leave so he can’t find you.”

“So you’re buying into the conspiracy theories?”

Lowering his voice, Freddie said, “There’s something about how fearful he is that’s resonating with me. I’m getting a gut check.”

Sam had taught him to trust his gut, so the comment had her moving a little quicker to put on the shoes she’d only recently kicked off. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Thanks.”

While Scotty’s gaze remained glued to the action on the TV, Nick was watching her. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Josh is melting down. Gotta do some damage control. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Be careful.”

She went around the bed to kiss him, which had Scotty making retching noises.

Nick smiled and curled his hand around her neck to keep her there for a moment longer. Into her ear, he whispered, “Watch out for Troy Hamilton. Be extra careful.”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

“That’ll be the day.”

Mindful of Freddie’s warning, she powered down her phone and put it in her pocket. Though she was suspended, she still unlocked her bedside table to retrieve the weapon she never left home without, except when running after the ambulance carrying her husband. She stuck her badge into her back pocket just in case she needed it, not that she expected to.

“Scotty, you’re in charge,” Sam said. “Make sure he does nothing but rest.”

“Got it,” he said, eyes still glued to the TV.

Though they were both a lot better than they’d been, she still hated to leave them, even for a couple of hours. And when she stepped outside the bedroom to see Melinda positioned in the hallway, she hated leaving them even more.