Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(4)



“It helps to hear your voice. I have to go tell Scotty, and the kids will be getting up.”

“Samantha…”

“I’ll see you when you get here, okay?”

“I love you so much, and I’m just heartbroken for you and Ang and Trace and Celia.”

“Thanks. I love you too. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too, babe.”

The line went dead, and he handed the phone back to Brant.

Visibly shaken, Brant took the phone from Nick. “I’m very sorry for your loss. Is Mrs. Cappuano…”

“She sounds bad. Flat.”

“She’s in shock.”

Nick leaned forward, elbows on knees, head in hands. Skip is dead. Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his face, his thoughts full of Sam, Scotty and the rest of their family. This would be a devastating loss for all of them. And it was a devastating loss for him. Skip had been a friend and father figure to him since the day Nick met him. Even paralyzed from the neck down, Skip had managed to completely intimidate Nick with the formidable blue-eyed stare that had put him on notice. Take care of my baby girl, or you’ll deal with me. Few things had ever mattered more to Nick than keeping the promises he’d made to Skip Holland that first day.

Brant’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “I’m going to ask Mr. O’Connor to step in, if that’s all right.”

Nick nodded and used the sleeve of his shirt to mop up his tears.

Terry came into the cabin, shock etched into his expression. “I just heard the news. I’m so sorry, Nick.”

Nick insisted his chief of staff call him by name when they were alone. “Thanks.”

“Were you able to talk to Sam?”

“Briefly.”

“I won’t ask how she is.” Terry took a seat. “Did you hear what happened?”

“He was unresponsive this morning. They chose not to resuscitate him. He had a DNR.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Get me home to her as fast as you can. I don’t care what has to happen.”

“I’ll arrange for Marine Two to meet us at Andrews. We can land on the south lawn of the White House and have you home within minutes.”

“Thank you.” That would be quicker than being conveyed to the city via motorcade, but it was still going to take far too long.





      CHAPTER TWO


AS SOON AS she could put two thoughts together and identify her most pressing need, Sam called Shelby Faircloth, their devoted assistant and friend.

“Morning.” In the background, Sam could hear Shelby’s son Noah’s baby chatter. “Noah says hi too.”

“Shelby.”

“Sam? What’s wrong?”

For the first time, Sam had to say the words out loud, each of them like a sharp knife to her heart. “My father died.”

Shelby’s gasp came through the phone. “Sam… Oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“I know it’s Sunday and you have a life, but the kids—”

“I’m coming. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. You tell me what you need, and I’ll do it. Whatever it is. I’ll do it.”

“I haven’t had a chance to tell Scotty, but he’ll be asleep for a while yet. The littles will be up, though. The agents are there.” She didn’t have to tell Shelby that childcare wasn’t the Secret Service’s job.

“I’m on my way. Don’t worry about anything other than your family. I’m on it.”

“Thank you.” Overwhelmed by Shelby’s support, Sam closed the flip phone without the usual satisfying slap. Then she reopened it and placed a call to her captain.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite lieutenant. I really hope you had a good week off, because I’m ready to have you back. Doing your job on top of mine is an even bigger royal pain in my ass than you are.”

“Cap.”

“What’s up?”

Jake Malone had been one of Skip Holland’s best friends. “My dad…”

“Sam?”

“He’s gone.”

His anguished cry took her breath away. “What? What happened?”

“He died in his sleep.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Will you notify Uncle Joe and the others?” Sam couldn’t recall the last time she’d called her chief by the name she’d used for him as a child. “I just can’t…”

“Yes, of course. I’ll take care of it. What else can I do?”

“Nothing for now.”

“There’ll be an inspector’s funeral with full honors.”

“Yes.” The term, adopted from the New York Police Department, was used to describe a funeral to honor an officer killed in the line of duty.

“I don’t have to tell you this, but Skip Holland was the finest man I ever knew.”

Sam closed her eyes against the rush of emotion. “That means a lot to me, and it will to my family too. Your friendship meant the world to him and us.”

“He meant the world to us. Call me if I can do anything. I mean it.”

Marie Force's Books