“We’re meeting in the morning about the plea deal,” she said, yawning.
The next thing she knew, her alarm was going off, and Sam woke up in the same place she’d been the night before—wrapped up in Nick’s arms, her head on his chest. Before him, she hadn’t been able to bear being touched while sleeping. Now, she was most comfortable surrounded by him. She shut off the alarm and took one second to enjoy him before they had to go their separate ways for another long day.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Get up, Samantha,” Nick said, his voice gruff with sleep.
“I’m up.”
“No, you’re not. You’re on your way back to sleep.”
“Don’t act like you know me so well.”
He pinched her butt, making her startle. “Up.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Like a dead man. I need that same cocktail before bed tonight too.”
“That cocktail is available to you anytime you need it.”
“Cocktail hour is my favorite time of day.”
“Every second with you is the best part of my day, especially if there’re some kids tossed in the mix. And I’m not going to see them this morning either.”
“You’ll have a whole week with them next week.”
“I can’t wait. I want to do everything—movies and crafts and baking and games and all the stuff I never have time to do.”
“We’ll do it all. I promise.”
“On that note, I gotta go tell Freddie he can stay in bed a little longer.”
“How come?”
Sam sat up, pushed her hair back from her face and reached for her phone. “Because I’ve got something I need him to do on the way in.” She put through the call to her partner.
“I’m up,” he said, sounding as grouchy as Sam felt.
“Good, but I’m calling to give you another forty-five minutes in bed.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Freddie! Listen. I want you to go to a hardware store near the McLeods’ and find out exactly what Mandi bought at two thirty on Sunday. Get me a receipt and security video of her in the store if they have it. I’ll have Carlucci text you the address.”
“Got it, will do.”
“Call it into the pit the minute you know and get it in writing from the store.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks. Set your alarm again.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Sam slapped her phone closed, called Carlucci and then headed for the shower.
“Damn, that’s a nice view,” Nick said from the bed.
She put some wiggle in her walk just for his benefit.
Thirty minutes later, she headed out to work and was met on the ramp outside her front door by Vernon and a new woman.
“This is Belinda. She’s on your detail today. Belinda, this is Mrs. Cappuano.”
Sam shook hands with the tall, red-headed agent. “Nice to meet you, and actually, I’m Lieutenant Holland for the next eight to ten hours.” She prayed it would be the lesser end of that range.
“Such an honor to meet you, Lieutenant. I’ve admired your career.”
“Thank you. I need a ride to work this one time.”
Vernon smiled. “As you know, we’d prefer to drive you.”
“You get your wish today.” While he held the door, Sam got in the back of the SUV, adrenaline zipping through her veins at the thought of maybe closing the McLeod case and perhaps returning some of the missing money to Ginny’s victims. Wouldn’t that be something? To do something the Feds hadn’t been able to accomplish would be a huge victory for the MPD at a time when the department could really use a win.
“When we get to HQ, go straight to the morgue entrance in the back please.” She cringed at the thought of her colleagues seeing her arriving in a Secret Service vehicle. Fortunately, she didn’t warrant and entire motorcade.
“Yes, ma’am,” Belinda said.
The media was still staked outside the building. Didn’t they ever get tired of the futility of waiting for something that would never happen? Not once in all the months that Nick had been vice president had Sam ever given them anything useful. And yet they still showed up every day with hope in their hearts. Better them than her. She’d rather chase murderers than a story that wasn’t going to happen. But hey, to each his or her own.
When they arrived at HQ, she ducked inside, hoping to avoid anything that got in the way of her plans for the morning. With just over two and a half hours until the meeting about Gonzo, she was hoping to use most of that time to sew up the McLeod case.
They were close. She just needed the last few details to