Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(5)

“I know, and I will. I guess I’ll be out for a while longer.”

“Take whatever time you need.”

“Will you notify my squad? Make sure everyone keeps it off-line until we’re ready to release the news.”

“I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Thanks again.” Sam ended the call and went into the living room, where her sisters were comforting Celia. She sat across from them. “Captain Malone is notifying the department.”

Celia wiped the tears from her face. “You should go home to your family, Sam.”

Sam realized her stepmother was pissed. “I’m sorry if you didn’t agree with me in there, but you know it’s better for him.”

“How can you say that?” Celia’s voice caught on a sob. “He wanted to be here with us!”

“Not like that.” Sam hoped that the nurse in Celia would eventually see that Sam was right. For now, Celia was thinking like a heartbroken wife and not as a medical professional.

“This hurts like hell for all of us.” Tracy’s face was swollen from crying. “But Sam is right. He couldn’t go on that way indefinitely.”

“Earlier, I had this vision of him standing up from the chair and walking through the gates of heaven, whole and strong and full of the power he used to have.” Sam forced a smile. “I liked that vision.”

Angela sniffled. “I like that too.”

The front door opened and Angela’s husband, Spencer, came rushing in, fresh from the gym.

Angela stood and flew into his outstretched arms, both of them sobbing.

Mike came out of the kitchen, where he’d been on the phone and sat with Tracy, his arm around her.

Sam wanted Nick more than she ever had before, but he wouldn’t be home for hours yet. In the meantime, her stomach ached at the thought of her beloved stepmother being angry with her. That only made a horrible situation worse.

“We need to make a statement.” Sam hoped the others would agree with her. Under normal circumstances, seeking out the press was the last thing she ever wanted to do, but in this case, they needed to take control of the story. “Before it gets taken out of our hands.” She didn’t need to tell her family that this would be a huge story, not only because of who Skip had been to the department and the city but because of his son-in-law, the vice president.

“What do you suggest?” Tracy asked.

“I’d like to call Darren Tabor from the Star. He’s a friend. He’ll do right by us and Dad.”

Tracy looked to Celia. “Would that be all right, Celia?”

Celia nodded but still didn’t look at Sam. “Whatever you all think is right is fine with me.”

“There’ll be a police funeral with full honors,” Sam said.

Celia looked up at her with fierce determination in her gaze. “As there should be.”

“I’ll call Darren.” Sam had developed a rapport with the reporter and could trust him to properly handle the important news of her father’s passing. She got up, grabbed a fleece jacket of Celia’s and went outside to the front porch, appreciating the blast of cold fresh air. Finding the number for the Washington Star’s Darren Tabor in her contacts, she put through the call.

“Don’t you ever take a day off?” His voice was gravelly with sleep.

“I need a favor.”

“Will this favor result in you owing me one?”

“Yeah. Maybe a couple.”

“Everything okay?”

“Nope.” She nearly laughed so she wouldn’t cry. “My dad passed away this morning, and we need to release a statement. I thought you might be able to help me with that.”

“Are you at home?” Darren sounded wide-awake now.

“I’m at his house, three doors down from mine. It’s the other one on the street with a ramp. Tell the Secret Service I said to let you in. They’ll call me to confirm.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes—and you won’t owe me any favors for this one.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m really sorry, Sam. I know how close you were to him.”

“Yeah, thanks. It’s a tough one, but I’m finding comfort in knowing he’s free from the difficult reality of his life over the last four years.”

“That’s a good way to look at it. I’m on my way.”

Sam closed the phone and stood for a long time on the front porch, memories of growing up on Ninth Street filling her heart and mind. Right in the middle of all those memories was the larger-than-life man who’d raised her with high expectations. He’d made her want to be a cop. He’d made her into the cop she was today. He’d made her into the human being she was today. Before Nick, Skip had been the most important person in her life. Everything she’d ever done had been with the goal of making him proud.

That doesn’t have to change, she told herself in the first hour without him.

She glanced down the street and saw Shelby rushing up the ramp to their house, a flash of pink with blond hair. Fifteen minutes later, at the Secret Service checkpoint, she watched Darren jump from a cab, and took the call from one of the agents.

“We have a Darren Tabor for you, Mrs. Cappuano.”