“I’m so happy for you and Terry, Linds. I hope you know that.”
“Of course I do. We can’t wait to celebrate with you and your family.”
“The kids are excited. It’ll be the twins’ first wedding.”
“Oh, that’s so cool.”
“We’re thinking about throwing a White House wedding for Elijah and Candace later this summer.”
“That’s a great idea. I love their story. Well, the part where they got back together the second they could.”
“Me, too.” Candace’s parents had had Elijah charged with a felony count of statutory rape when he was seventeen and Candace was fifteen. The couple went years without being able to talk to each other, until she turned eighteen and reached out to him. Soon after that, they’d gotten married so no one could ever again tear them apart.
Sam and Nick had had reservations about them marrying at such young ages, but they hadn’t been consulted before Eli and Candace eloped. “After getting to know her and seeing them together, I’m convinced they were meant to be. We’re looking forward to giving them a proper wedding.” She glanced at the clock on the wall that indicated she was fifteen minutes late for her eight a.m. shift. “I’d better get to it before they mark me tardy.”
“As if they’d dare. You’ve worked more overtime than they could pay you for in six lifetimes.”
“No need to poke the bear. Have a great day.”
“You, too.”
Chapter Three
When she arrived in her pit, Sam’s team was already hard at work in their cubicles. “Morning, everyone. Sorry I’m late.”
“Morning, LT,” Gonzo said for all of them. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair and eyes that spoke to his Cuban heritage.
“Anything going on?” she asked
“Not at the moment,” Detective Freddie Cruz said. Her partner caught the eyes of women everywhere they went with his wavy dark hair, dimples, soft brown eyes and sweet smile. “We’re taking the opportunity to catch up on the reports.”
“Good idea.”
“When do you testify in the Nelson trial?” Freddie asked.
“Tuesday afternoon, if not before. Faith will let me know.”
“How’re you feeling about the trial, LT?” Detective Cameron Green asked. He was blond, with a muscular physique and blue eyes. As always, he was immaculately dressed, today in a patterned dress shirt and a navy tie. Sam had told him he didn’t have to wear a tie to work, but he said it made him feel more professional to dress the part.
“I’m eager to put it behind me.” Christopher Nelson, the former president’s son, had set out to discredit Nick, his father’s popular vice president, and had gone so far as to torture and kill Sam’s ex-husband, Peter Gibson, among other egregious crimes. The incident had nearly driven Nick out of public service.
Could it be the trial and her upcoming appearance there making her so anxious? Possibly. Revisiting that case and her sordid history with Peter Gibson was never at the top of her list of things she wished to do, let alone in a public forum where every word would be recorded for posterity.
“Have you been following the trial coverage?” Freddie asked.
“Absolutely not. Living through that nightmare once was more than enough for me—and for Nick.”
“You should know the press is relitigating it all, as they do,” Gonzo said.
“I’m sure they’re taking great pleasure in running us through the meat grinder over something that was done to us and failing to mention that we had nothing to do with it.”
“There was a pundit last night reminding the panel that President and Mrs. Cappuano were victims of Nelson’s crimes and should be viewed as such.”
“I’m glad someone is saying that.” Sam hated that her appearance in court would lead to more headlines about how the former president’s son had threatened the lives of everyone Nick Cappuano loved, hoping he would resign and take his soaring popularity with him.
They’d learned that Christopher Nelson had presidential aspirations that were derailed when Nick’s popularity made him the party’s de facto candidate for the next election cycle. How disappointed Christopher must’ve been to learn that Nick had chosen not to run and would’ve gotten out of the way all on his own without Christopher’s murderous crime spree.
“What are you thinking?” Freddie asked.
