Fatal Affair (21 page)

“Especially not a couple of bombs,” she said with a weak smile.

“That’s right.” He returned her smile. “How’s the belly?”

“Better,” she said, surprised to realize it was true.

“We’re going to do something about that. As soon as this case is closed, you’re going to see my doctor friend Harry.”

“You and what army will be taking me?”

“You’ll find out if you don’t go on your own.”

Her heart hammered in her chest as she studied him. “There’re things…about me…that I need to tell you, stuff you should know before you decide anything.”

Cradling her face in his hands, he looked down at her with his heart in his eyes. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me not want to be with you. Nothing.”

“You don’t know that—”

His mouth came down hard on hers, stealing the words, the thoughts, the air and every ounce of reason. When he had kissed her into submission, he said, “I do know that.”

“But—”

“I love you, Samantha. I’ve loved you from the first instant I ever saw you across a crowded deck at that party and for all the years since. Having you back in my life is the single best thing that’s ever happened to me. So there’s nothing, nothing at all, you could tell me that would change my mind about you or what I want from you.”

Sam rarely found herself speechless, but as she looked up at his beautiful, earnest face—the face she had dreamed about during her miserable marriage—she simply couldn’t find the words.

Without breaking the intense eye contact between them, he brushed his lips over hers in a kiss so sweet and undemanding that her knees went weak.

“Later,” he said. “We’ll have all the time in the world. I promise.”

Chapter 27

They borrowed Celia’s car to go to Arlington. After an upsetting day, the neighborhood had returned to tranquility, and the media had thankfully moved on to the next story. At Nick’s house, the windows had been repaired, but broken glass crunched under their feet in the foyer and upstairs in his bedroom. “I’ll still be cleaning up glass a year from now,” he joked, attempting to make light of it since he could feel the distress radiating from her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t go there, Samantha.” He threw jeans, sweaters, underwear, T-shirts and socks into a large duffel bag. With the funeral scheduled for Monday, he packed a dark suit, dress shirt and tie into a garment bag and tossed a pair of wingtips into the duffel. In the bathroom, he grabbed what he needed as fast he could, not wanting her to be there any longer than necessary after what happened earlier.

He’d told her he loved her. Just blurted it out because he thought she needed to hear it right then. He told himself it didn’t matter that she hadn’t said it back. She would. Eventually. But what if she didn’t? What if she’d been swept up by the craziness of the investigation, and he’d read her all wrong? No. That wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be possible.

“Nick?”

“What, babe?”

“You just went all still. What’re you thinking about?”

He cleared the emotion and fear from his throat. “I’m wondering if they found Peter.”

“They’ll call me. They know he’s mine once they bring him in.”

“You’re going to confront him?”

“I’m going to nail him.”

“Why don’t you let someone else do it? Why does it have to be you?”

“Because it does.”

“That’s it?”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“What if I ask you not to?”

“Don’t.”

“Would it matter? If I did ask?”

“It would matter. And I’d take that in with me, and it’d throw me off. I want to be at one hundred percent when I confront that miserable excuse for a human being. So don’t send me in there dragging baggage. Don’t do that to me.”

“Is that what I am? Baggage?”

“What the hell happened between my house and here?”

He zipped the duffel. “Nothing. Not a goddamned thing.”

She grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her. “Are you mad that I didn’t say it back?”

“What’re you talking about?” he asked, his heart aching.

“You know.” Her tone softened as she raised her hands to his face. “Everything is so insane—the investigation, my psychopathic ex-husband, your loss and your job situation, my stomach…even the freaking holidays are bearing down on me. After what I went through with Peter, I’m different than I used to be. I’m more cautious. I haven’t been cautious with you, though, and that scares me.” She laughed. “It terrifies me, actually.”

“You have nothing to fear from me.”

“I know that, but I’ve screwed up so badly in the past. I need time, when I don’t have fifty other things on my mind, to think and to process everything that’s happened this week. I can’t do that right now. But if it helps at all, I can tell you I’m moving in the same direction you are.”

“It does help to know that.” He reached for her hands and brought them to his lips. “Will you promise me one thing?”

“If I can.”

“Will you spend Christmas Eve with me here? No matter what happens in the next few days, will you save that one night for me?”

“We usually go to my sister’s…”

“We can do whatever you want on Christmas Day.”

“All right.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She went up on tiptoes to kiss him. “I can’t believe Christmas is Wednesday, and I haven’t bought a thing for anyone. What about you?”

“Not too many people on my list. I usually get something for Christina, the O’Connors, my dad’s twins, John…”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. About your family situation.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He shut off the light in the bedroom and led her downstairs.

She stood in the living room with her hands jammed into her coat pockets. “What you said earlier, about us living together?”

“Too much, too soon. I get it.”

“What I was going to say is if, you know, we get to that, I couldn’t live here. It’s too far from the city and my dad.”

“Okay.”

“That simple?”

“It’s just a house.”

She studied him. “When are you going to turn into a jerk?”

“Any minute now. I’ve been meaning to get to that.”

Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket. “It’s Freddie.” She put it on speaker so Nick could hear. “What’ve you got?”

“No sign of him at his place, but we found wires, plastic and fertilizer sitting right out on the table. Gonzo requested a warrant for a full search, and we’re just waiting on that now.”

She sat down. “I was hoping it wasn’t him. I was really hoping…”

“I’m sorry. We’ve issued an APB. Every cop in the city is looking for him. We’ll get him, Sam.”

“Thanks. Go on home. Get some sleep. Meet me at HQ at eight. We’ll put in a half day.”

“I’ll be there. Are you okay?”

“Overall, I’ve had better days, but I’m okay. See you in the morning.”

Nick dropped the duffel and suit bag by the front door and joined her on the sofa.

“I was so hoping he was just stalking me and we wouldn’t be able to pin the EDs on him. I didn’t want it to be him.”

Nick put his arm around her and brought her in to rest against him. “I know, babe.”

“The papers tomorrow will be all about me—the bomb, my relationship with you, my psycho ex-husband. They’ll rehash Johnson, run through my dad’s unsolved case.” She scrubbed at her face. “I hate when the story is about me. It’s been about me too often lately.”

“You’re so tired,” he said, kissing her brow. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

“I’d rather stay close to home until we get Peter. He knows my dad is an Achilles heel of mine.”

Standing, Nick held out a hand to help her up.

She surprised him when she wrapped her arms around him. “Can we just do this for a minute?”

He kissed the bruised bump on her forehead. “For as long as you want.”

They were interrupted several minutes later by a knock on the door.

“Wonder who’s here at this hour.” Nick swung the door open and was startled to find Natalie Jordan on his doorstep. “Natalie? What’re you doing here?” He wouldn’t have thought she even knew where he lived.

Her eyes rimmed with red, she said, “May I come in for a minute?”

Nick glanced back at Sam, who nodded. He showed Natalie into the living room.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” Natalie said to Sam. Her face was splotchy, as if she’d been crying for hours.

“What can I do for you?” Sam asked.

To Nick, Natalie said, “Would it be possible to get a glass of water?”

Nick made eye contact with Sam. “Sure.” When he returned with the water, Natalie had taken a seat on the sofa and was focused on her hands in her lap.

Sam looked at him and shrugged.

“Here you go,” Nick said, handing Natalie the glass of water.

“Thank you.”

“It’s really late, Natalie,” Nick said. “Why don’t you tell us why you’re here?”

“It’s so unreal,” she said softly. “I still can’t believe it…”

“Mrs. Jordan, we can’t help you if we don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said.

Looking up at them with shattered eyes, Natalie said, “Noel. I think he…”

“What did Noel do?” Nick asked, his heart beating harder all of a sudden. He wanted to take Natalie by the shoulders and shake it out of her. “What did he do?”

“He might’ve killed John.”

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked.

Nick noticed that she’d slipped into her cop mode, all signs of her earlier dismay over Peter gone.

“He’s been acting funny, leaving at odd hours, long silences. He seems very angry, but he won’t tell me why.”

“When I talked to you earlier in the investigation, you didn’t mention any of this.”

“I hadn’t put two and two together yet.”

“Tell me what you think you’ve put together.”

“That night,” Natalie said haltingly, “the night John was killed, we went to bed together, but I woke up in the middle of the night and he was gone.”

“You never mentioned that before.”

“He’s my husband, Detective.” Natalie’s eyes flooded with new tears. “I couldn’t believe it was even possible. I didn’t want to believe it’s possible.”

“So what changed?” Nick asked. “Why did you come here?”

“You were John’s friend,” Natalie said to Nick. “I thought you’d want to help find the person who did this to him.”

“Of course I do! But I want the truth!”

“So do I! I loved him! You know I did. Noel was jealous of him. I couldn’t even mention John’s name without setting him off.”

“What do you think set him off enough to want to kill him?” Sam asked.

“We saw John a couple of weeks before he died. It was at a cocktail party the Virginia Democrats had at Richard Manning’s house.” Natalie wiped new tears from her cheeks. “John came over to me, gave me a friendly hug and kiss. We talked for a long time, just catching up on each other’s lives. It was nothing. But I looked over at one point and saw Noel watching us. He looked like he could kill us both on the spot.”

“Why didn’t you mention any of this to us the other day?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t want to believe it.”

“You still haven’t said what changed your mind.”

“I asked him.” She ran a trembling hand through her disheveled hair. “Straight out. ‘Did you kill John?’ He denied it of course, but I don’t believe him.” To Nick, she said, “I didn’t know what to do, so I came over here, hoping you’d put me in touch with Detective Holland.”

“Do you have somewhere you can go where you’ll be safe?” Sam asked.

Natalie nodded. “My parents’ home in Springfield.”

“Give me some time to look into this,” Sam said.

“He’s powerful,” Natalie said. “You’ll never be able to pin this on him.”

“If he did it, I’ll pin it on him,” Sam assured her.

Natalie stood up to leave. “I’m sorry to barge in on you. I heard about what happened earlier. I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt.”

They walked her to the door. “Tomorrow, I’ll want to get all of this on the record.” Sam pulled her ever-present notebook from her back pocket. “Write down your parents’ address and a phone number where I can reach you.”

Natalie did as she asked. “Thank you for listening.” To Nick, she added, “I know I was never your favorite person—”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“Anyway, thank you.”

They watched her walk to her car.

“She’s full of shit,” Nick said, his eyes intensely focused on Natalie’s car as it drove away. “I don’t believe her for one minute.”

“What don’t you believe? That her jealous husband could’ve killed the man his wife never stopped loving? That’s as good a motive as I’ve heard yet.”

“I know Noel Jordan. He’s not made of that kind of stuff. If you ask me, she is, though. I could very easily see her losing her shit with John and killing him for not loving her enough. After what we heard earlier about her ex-boyfriend dying in a suspicious fire, you believe it’s possible, too.”

“Why would she come here, seeking out the lead detective on the case, if she was the one who did it? Think about that, Nick.”

“Why didn’t you ask her about what happened to her boyfriend in Hawaii?”

“I didn’t want to tip my hand on that just yet. As long as she thinks we don’t know about it, she might be more forthcoming.”

“I don’t like her. I’ve never liked her, and I don’t care what you say, she’s lying. She’ll do anything it takes to advance her agenda, even if it means tossing her husband under the bus.”

Sam checked her watch. “I wonder what time Noel goes to bed.”

“You’re actually going to do something with that pile of bullshit she just fed you?”

“Of course I am. This could be the break we’ve been waiting for.”

He ushered her out of the house and locked the door behind them. “You’re wasting your time.”

“It’s my time to waste.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“I know what time it is. If you’d rather stay here, I can go by myself.”

“You’re not going anywhere by yourself as long as your ex-husband is out there waiting for another chance to kill you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Nick. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

Silently, he ushered her into the car and a few minutes later took the exit for the George Washington Parkway, heading toward Alexandria. “You really think I could go home and go to bed and actually
sleep
, knowing you’re out here by yourself confronting a potential killer while your ex waits for his next opportunity?”

“I’ve been in tighter spots.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before me.”

“I’m not one of those women who finds this whole alpha-male act sexy. In fact, it’s a major turn off.”

“Whatever.”

They rode to Belle Haven in stony silence. Sam didn’t speak until she had to direct him to the dark house. She retrieved her gun and badge from her purse and tucked them into her coat pockets. “Wait here.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, Nick emerged from the car and followed her up the walk.

“I told you to wait!”

“You’re not going in there alone, Sam. It’s either me, or I call 911.” He held up his cell phone defiantly. “What’s it going to be?”

They engaged in a silent battle of wills until Sam finally said, “Don’t say a word. Do you hear me? Not one freaking word.” She spun around and marched up the front stairs to ring the bell. It echoed in the big house. They waited a couple of minutes before a light went on upstairs. Through the beveled windows next to the door, Sam watched Noel come down the stairs.

He peeked through the window before he opened the door. “Sergeant Holland?” Blinking, he glanced at Nick.

“Yes,” Sam said. “I’m sorry to call on you so late.” Begrudgingly, she added, “I believe you know Nick Cappuano.”

“Of course. Come in.” Noel’s blond hair stood on end. He wore a T-shirt from a road race with flannel pajama pants and hardly resembled the second-ranking attorney at the U.S. Department of Justice she had met the other day.