Free Fatal Consequences by Marie Force Page B

find out.”
    “Don’t do anything politically risky, Nick. That’d be playing right into his hand.”
    “They’re phone calls. That’s all.”
    She had no doubt one of those calls would be to the U.S. Attorney himself. Her fiancé was nothing if not well connected in Washington.
    “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
    “I’ll be better when you get home tonight.”
    “I’ll be there as soon as I can break free of the fundraising thing.”
    “Good luck with that.”
    “Thanks. How’s Henry?”
    “Sprung for now. His wife is on her way here from Arizona.”
    “Yikes. I don’t envy him that confrontation.”
    “If he’d kept his fly zipped, there’d be nothing to confront him about.”
    “True,” Nick said, chuckling.
    “You know I’d have to kill you, don’t you?”
    “Kill me for what? What’ve I done now?”
    “If you ever cheated,” she said in a small voice, instantly regretting going there. She tensed, awaiting his reply.
    “Samantha,” he said, his tone chastising. “Tell me you didn’t just say that.”
    “I didn’t just say that. I know I have nothing to worry about, even when all that senatorial power goes to your head.”
    “It may go to my head, but it’ll never get to my zipper.”
    Sam laughed. He always knew just what to say to her. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
    “Yes, you will, and we’ll have a more in-depth discussion about who gets access to my zipper—and who does not.”
    “I’ll look forward to that, Senator.”
    “As well you should. Love you, babe. Thanks for calling and giving me a heads-up about Peter.”
    She’d learned the hard way not to keep things from him and appreciated that he recognized she was making an effort in that area of their relationship. “Love you too. See you soon.”
    Sam put down the phone and gave herself a moment to decompress before she considered her next move in Regina’s case. She was going over the less-than-fruitful reports from the crime scene detectives and the canvas of Regina’s building when Freddie stepped into the office, a grim expression on his face.
    “What’s the matter?”

Chapter 8
    “Nothing,” Freddie said, startled by the question. “I just walked in the door. What makes you think something’s the matter?”
    “I know you, and I can tell just by looking at you that something is wrong. You’ve been off all morning.”
    “So on top of all your other formidable skills, now you’re psychic too?”
    “Sit,” she said, pointing to the door and then the chair on the other side of her desk.
    Frowning, Freddie pushed the door closed and sat. “What?”
    “Tell me what’s wrong.”
    “It’s nothing to do with work or the case. Lightfeather is stashed at the Washington Hilton with two guards as directed. No one followed us, and I checked him in under the name of Jim Dalton. Can I get back to work now?”
    “Not until you tell me why your shoulders are hunched and you haven’t smiled all day.”
    “I’m tired, and we’re working a rape and murder. Am I supposed to be whistling ‘Dixie’ at the same time? I wasn’t aware of that job requirement.”
    “Despite your sarcasm, you’re not walking out that door until you tell me what’s bugging you.”
    “Just because we’ve talked about stuff in the past doesn’t mean I have to share my every thought with you.”
    Wow, he was really in a mood. Sam raised a brow to let him know he wasn’t going to escape her clutches.
    “I’m sorry,” he muttered, slumping into the chair. “I shouldn’t talk to you that way.”
    “When it’s just you and me and the door is closed, you should speak to me any way you see fit.” It was as close as she’d ever come to letting him know she valued their friendship as much as their working relationship.
    Seeming surprised, he said, “So it’s okay to tell you you’re being nosy and that you should butt out?”
    “Sure, but it doesn’t mean I will.”
    “God, you’re a pain .”
    She smiled. Nick