Fatal Identity

“Oh, that’s cool. Sorry about your dad, though.”

“Thanks.”

Nick’s lead agent, John Brantley Jr., met her at the door. “Lieutenant.”

“Brant. What’s he doing home so early?”

“The vice president isn’t feeling well.”

“Say what?”

He gave her a “you heard me” look that nearly made her laugh, except she was too concerned about Nick to laugh. Her invincible husband didn’t get sick the way other mortals did. In all the time they’d been together, she’d never known him to have so much as a cold.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.”

She used her thumb to point to her guest. “This is Josh—he’s with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She hated the way the agents insisted on calling her ma’am, as if she were seventy years old or something, but she’d chosen not to fight that battle. She wanted to say, if you can call me ma’am why can’t you call me Sam? Close enough, wasn’t it? But Nick had asked her not to make an issue of it, so she didn’t. But she wanted to.

“Have a seat.” She directed Josh to the sofa while she tossed her coat over the back of it. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Sam dashed upstairs to their bedroom, anxious to see what was wrong with Nick, who’d been fine earlier. She found him in bed, curled into the fetal position, and was instantly concerned. Leaning over the bed, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, which was on fire. “Babe.”

“Mmm.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t know. Was fine and then I wasn’t.”

“You’re burning up. Did you take something?”

“Couldn’t. Stomach.”

“I’m calling Harry.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, and I’m calling Harry.”

He mumbled something that sounded like “don’t bother him,” but to hell with that. She was bothering him. Withdrawing her cell phone from her pocket, she found the number for one of their closest friends, who happened to be a doctor, and made the call.

“Madame Vice President,” Harry said. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Nick is sick. Can you come over?”

“Sick with what?”

“I don’t know. He said it came on out of nowhere, and now he’s burning up and says his stomach hurts too bad to take anything.”

“Sounds like the flu. Keep your distance.”

“Way too late for that warning.” Sam winced when she thought of the sex they’d had last night and again this morning. Not getting too close to her husband was usually the last thing she wanted to do.

“Figures with you two,” Harry said with a huff of laughter. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you clear me through security?”

“Yeah, I’ll let them know.”

“Try not to worry. He’s an ox. He’ll be fine.”

Sam usually took Harry’s assurances to heart, but she was worried. She’d never seen Nick this way and had no idea what to do to make him feel better. She hated feeling powerless. Then she remembered Josh was downstairs waiting for her to figure out what to do about his suspicions.

So much for a nice, peaceful few days “off.”

Sam ran her fingers through Nick’s hair, which was sweaty from the fever. “Babe, I have to go downstairs and take care of something. I’ll be right back up, okay?”

He had gone back to sleep and didn’t respond.

Sam bent over to kiss his cheek, trying not to notice that he already felt hotter than he had a few minutes ago. She ran back downstairs to where Josh was waiting right where she’d left him. His leg bounced as he bit his nails.

“Sorry about that.”

“No problem.”

Their assistant, Shelby Faircloth, came into the room from the kitchen, carrying a cup of tea and holding her iPad under her arm.

“Hey, Sam, what’re you doing home? And why is Nick here?”

“He’s sick, and I’m off for four days,” she said with a meaningful glance.

“Ahh, gotcha.” Shelby knew Sam was due to hear the results of the IAB hearing today.

“Could I borrow your iPad for a minute?” Sam asked. “Oh, and this is Josh. I’m helping him out with something. Josh, Shelby, our assistant.”

“Nice to meet you, Josh.” Shelby punched in her code and handed the iPad to Sam. “What’s going on?”

Without telling Shelby about Josh’s connection to Director Hamilton, Sam told her about the photo Josh had found on the Internet.

“Oh my,” Shelby said, dropping into a chair.

Sam gave the iPad to Josh. “Show me the site where you found the photo.”

He did some typing and poking at the screen until he landed on the site. “Here.”