“Sounds like I need to make sure you’re completely exhausted by your very much alive husband so you’ll get the sleep you need.” He rolled her under him and kissed her more intently.
She responded to him the way she always did, body and soul, but as he removed her pajamas and made love to her, the morbid conversation and the feelings of dread stayed with her long after they reached a highly satisfying conclusion. Sam fell into restless sleep plagued by worst-case scenarios.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AS PLANNED, FREDDIE picked her up at six thirty the next morning, and they stopped to pick up his car where they’d left it the day before in Adams Morgan. Sam was grouchy and out of sorts after a rough night of disturbing dreams—or rather, nightmares. Because if any of them ever came to fruition, they would be her worst nightmare come true. She understood why Nick had wanted to talk about what they would do if the worst possible thing happened, but the dreadful topic had left a pit in her gut that she rubbed anxiously as she settled into her office and fired up her computer.
Somehow she was managing to survive losing her dad. Despite what she’d said to Nick last night, she’d never survive losing him. Life as she knew it would be over without him. She’d give up everything but Scotty. Aubrey and Alden would have to go somewhere where they could be properly loved, because she wouldn’t have it in her.
“Stop.” She said the word out loud, hoping her spinning mind would hear and take heed.
Dr. Trulo came into her office. “What are we stopping?”
“My disturbing thoughts.”
“Why are you having disturbing thoughts? Other than the obvious, of course.”
She waved him all the way in and gestured for him to close the door. “Last night, Nick wanted to talk about what we’d do if the worst thing happened to either of us.”
“Oh.” Trulo took a seat in her visitor’s chair. “I take it that left you feeling anxious.”
“That’s one word for how it left me feeling.”
“It’s a tough topic, but one that should be addressed in a marriage, especially one as high profile as yours.”
“I suppose.”
“It’s unthinkable, right?”
“Completely.”
“Last week, it was unthinkable that you could lose your father, and here we are. Somehow life goes on.”
“Not if Nick dies, it doesn’t.”
“Yes, it will. Whether you want it to or not.”
Sam put her hands over her ears and shook her head.
Trulo chuckled. “If there’s a cost to having great love in our lives, it’s the fear of losing it.”
“Leave it to you to sum it up in one sentence.”
“Why, thank you. That’s my job. Nick is showing you how much he loves you by making sure you’d be okay if the worst thing should happen. I’m sure that’s his only concern.”
“It is. And vice versa, as long as he’s not too happy with my replacement.”
Trulo laughed hard at that. “Which I’m sure you mentioned.”
“Duh.”
“I know it’s hard when you’ve allowed yourself to entertain a worst-case scenario, but you should put it out of your mind. You had the conversation. Now you need to convince yourself that it was just a conversation. It hasn’t actually happened, and there’s no reason to believe it will.”
“Working on that.” She offered a wan smile. “This helps, thanks. I assume you didn’t come down to talk about my doomsday prophecy.”
“I didn’t, but I’m always glad to help you. I hope you know that.”
“I do, and I appreciate it.”
“I came to talk about your support group idea. I can’t stop thinking about it since you brought it up.”
“It’s been on my mind a lot too.”
“In my experience, whenever I get something in my head that won’t get out, that means it’s an idea I need to pursue.”
“I agree. Is it something we need to run up the flagpole before we go any further?”
“Probably, but I expect it’d be well received. But I was thinking...and tell me if this is way out of line...”
Intrigued, Sam said, “I’m listening.”
“What if we did it in conjunction with both your roles—as the lieutenant of the Homicide division and as second lady?”
She mulled that over. “I wouldn’t want to do something like this for the attention it would bring to me.”
“Understood, but I think it could help to shine the light on the fallout of violent crime, the people who’re left behind. It could also help to promote your efforts as second lady to support law enforcement. I don’t want to pressure you to do something you aren’t comfortable with. Think about it and let me know. In the meantime, I’ll run the idea up the flagpole, giving you full credit, of course.”
She waved that off. “I don’t care about the credit.”
“You deserve the credit for a brilliant idea. I can see this becoming a national effort to better support the victims we encounter on the job—and to better support the law enforcement officers, like Sergeant Gonzales and Detective McBride—who suffer in the aftermath of things they experienced on the job.”
Sam nodded. “Our culture encourages officers to keep their suffering to themselves or run the risk of encountering trouble on the job. That’s another thing I’d like to address through this group.”
“That stigma is something I spend a lot of time on a daily basis to overcome with the officers I work with. Anything we can do to bring attention to the very real traumas police officers face on the job would be beneficial.”
“I’ll talk to my team at the White House—and yes, it’s still weird to say that sentence.”
Trulo laughed. “I can’t imagine that sentence ever gets routine.”
“It won’t for me. That’s for sure. But I’ll get some opinions and let you know.”
“Let’s keep in touch about this—and the trial.”
At the reminder of Stahl’s upcoming trial, Sam sagged into her chair. “Don’t remind me.”
“You could ask Faith to request a continuance. The judge would take into consideration your recent loss.”
“I want to get it over with, so I never have to think about him again. The sooner the better.”
“Come see me if you need to before you testify.”
“I will. Thanks.” Not that long ago, she would’ve dodged him, made excuses, gone out of her way to avoid anything that smacked of headshrinking. However, having seen the benefit of therapy after Stahl attacked her, she was thankful to know Trulo was available if she needed help in weathering this next storm.
“Speaking of Stahl.” Sam checked her watch. “I have an appointment with Faith Miller in three minutes.”
Trulo stood. “I’ll let you get ready for that. I’ll be in touch.” He smiled and winked on his way out the door.
Sam shook her head in amusement. The doctor who’d once represented a formidable obstacle to returning to duty had become a trusted friend and colleague since he helped her find a way through the nightmare of being kidnapped, attacked and certain she was going to die at the hands of her former lieutenant. Stahl hated her for being Skip’s daughter, for being good at her job, for being well regarded by her fellow officers, and who knows what other reasons had twisted his mind to the point that he could wrap her in razor wire and threaten to set her on fire.
She shuddered thinking about that day and the absolute certainty that she would never see Nick, Scotty or her beloved family again.
A knock on the door had her looking up at Faith, who, like her identical triplet sisters, had soft brown hair, green eyes and a curvy figure. As always, she wore a sharp suit with her signature stiletto heels.
“Come in.”
Faith stepped into the office and closed the door.
Sam wanted to know what her team was doing in the conference room and what was happening with Conklin, but she had to endure this meeting before she could get back to what she should be doing.
“How’re you doing?”
“Just great.” Sam poured on the sarcasm. “I’ve been looking forward to this meeting for days.”
Faith laughed. “I’m sure. Sorry that we have to do it, but you know the drill by now.”
“All too well.”
Having their story straight and her testimony rock-solid would be critical to ensuring Stahl never saw the light of day again. She would do anything she could to make sure of that.
It took ninety minutes to go through the testimony step by step.
Sam recited the facts of the two times Stahl had attacked her from memories she would never forget. In some ways, testifying had never been simpler. She’d lived every second of it, done everything she could to survive and went through the details one after the other in response to Faith’s strategic questions.
“I think we’re ready,” Faith finally declared.
Sam’s stomach hurt, and a headache had settled over her left eye. Talking about shit she’d much sooner forget never came naturally, but it was a necessary evil in situations like this. Underline the word evil.
“You’re going to be great. The key thing, as you know, is to not let his presence in the courtroom get to you. After you identify him, don’t look at him again.”
“I won’t, don’t worry. He’s the last thing I ever want to look at.” Her plan was to look directly at Nick, who’d vowed to be in the front row when she testified, as much as she wished he wouldn’t come. He’d never let her go through that without him, but it pained her to think of him hearing those details again. That day had been worse for him, in many ways, than it had been for her.
Faith put her legal pads and pens in her tote bag and stood to leave. “I wanted to say that I thought the services for your dad were amazing, and your eulogy was so...” She shook her head, grimacing when tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make it about me, but losing him has been hard for a lot of us. I hope you know that.”