Fatal Chaos

“The rules according to Sam,” Tracy said with a grin. “Spill it, Nick.”

“The DNC chair, Halliwell, called yesterday to ask if I had a vice president in mind.”

The statement was met with complete silence.

“Fuck,” Spencer finally said. “That means the party is losing confidence in Nelson’s ability to hang on.”

“Right.” Nick tended to the fire, adding another log and poking at it until the flame flared up.

No one said a word, and Sam began to regret tossing a bomb into their good time. “I didn’t mean to ruin everyone’s fun.”

“You didn’t,” Angela said. “This is a big deal. No wonder you’ve been so quiet today.”

“You should’ve enjoyed the quiet while you had the chance,” Sam said, smiling at her sister.

“What did you say to Halliwell, Nick?” Freddie asked.

“I told him I haven’t given a single thought to a VP—and I won’t until I have to. He said it might be time to start thinking.”

“From everything Nelson has said and done since his son’s arrest,” Mike said, “I don’t see him going down without a fight.”

“I don’t either,” Nick said. “But he’ll be under tremendous pressure to put the country ahead of himself. Depending on what comes out during the hearings, he may not be able to fight the tide.”

Tracy reached for Sam’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You guys have every good reason to be freaking out.”

Sam held on tight to her sister’s hand. “It’s not like we didn’t know this was possible, but we didn’t expect... Not like this...”

“Why would you expect the sitting president’s son to go so far as to kill your ex-husband for info he could use against you and your vice president husband because the son has political aspirations of his own?” Freddie asked.

Sam smiled at him. “When you put it that way...”

“No one could’ve seen this coming,” Mike said bluntly. “It’s right out of a blockbuster Hollywood thriller, which is why the press is salivating over every detail. I saw one report that the cable news channels are enjoying the highest ratings in history since this story broke.”

“Awesome,” Nick said dryly. “Glad we’re able to help their ratings.”

Leaning on his knees, Mike leaned forward, his expression earnest. “I don’t think either of you has fully grasped just how invested the American people are in seeing justice done for you as much as they want it for the country. People are outraged over what was done to you, the threats made against your family, the murder of Sam’s ex-husband, Nick’s mother’s awful interview, all of it.”

“It’s true,” Tracy said. “Everywhere I go, people ask me how you’re both doing and if you’re okay. Every one of them wants Nelson’s head on a platter, even if he had nothing to do with his son’s scheme.”

Sam glanced at Nick, and he reached for her hand.

“People have been so incredibly kind,” Nick said.

“Not all of them,” Sam said of the vocal detractors who’d sounded the alarm about the possibility of a young, unelected vice president ascending to the presidency should Nelson be forced out of office.

“Most of them,” Nick conceded.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like for you guys to be stuck in this state of limbo, waiting to see how it’s going to play out,” Elin said. “It has to be torturous.”

“It hasn’t been too bad,” Nick said, downplaying it for the sake of those who would worry about him if they grasped the full extent of his anxiety. Only Sam knew how little he slept, how much he brooded and the deep toll the stress had taken on him. “Our plan is to keep our heads down and our mouths shut and let Congress do its job. That’s all we can do.”

“Speaking of keeping our heads down...” Sam yawned dramatically and stretched. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m ready for bed.”

“You know me, babe,” Nick said with a salacious grin. “I’m always ready when you are.”

While the others groaned at his predictable comment, they helped to douse the fire and clean up the bottles and other trash from the beach. Back inside the big, contemporary house, they made fast work of cleaning up the kitchen and getting Freddie and Elin settled in the living room.

“Thanks for a great day,” Freddie said to Sam. Elin had gone to change and use the bathroom.

“I’m glad you guys were able to come out.”

“I hope you know if there’s anything I can do for you through all this, I’m right here.”

Sam squeezed her partner’s arm. “I always know that. I plan to keep very busy planning your bachelor party. I have a to-do list a mile long before next weekend’s festivities.”

His amiable expression hardened into a glare. “There’d better not be any strippers on that list.”

Sam cracked up and patted his indecently handsome face. “My poor, delusional Freddie. Strippers are the very least of what’s on my list.”

He moaned as he shook his head. “Asking you to be my best-man woman is going to turn out to be the biggest mistake of my life.”

“That’s the goal,” Sam said with a cheeky grin.

Elin rejoined them. “Are you torturing him?” she asked Sam.

“Me? Torture him?”

“Every chance she gets.” Freddie held out his hand to his fiancée. “Come protect me from her.”

Elin went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “My poor baby. I’ll make it all better.”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m out,” Sam said, amused by them. “If you need anything, let me know.”

“We’re good,” he said. “Thanks again for having us.”

“Always a pleasure to have the opportunity to torment you, Detective. Sleep tight, and remember there’re children in this house. Keep it clean out here.”

“Good night, Sam.”

She giggled at her own joke as she closed the door to the first-floor master suite.

“What’re you up to, babe?” Nick asked. He was already in bed, book in hand, covers pooled at his waist leaving his gorgeous man chest in full view. He’d left the sliding glass door open to allow the warm sea air into the room.

Sam realized she was staring at him. Sometimes it still amazed her that they’d managed to find each other twice in a lifetime. Even with their lives out of control more often than not, she wouldn’t trade her life with him for a quieter, more predictable existence with any other man.

“Samantha? You okay?”