Lucky Like Us Read online

  Sam welcomed it. He should be punished for what he’d done. He spent hours watching Elizabeth and playing the “what if” game in his head. What if he’d listened to his instincts? What if he hadn’t gone into that bar? What if he’d called in more backup? On and on, his mind tortured him, and she was still lying there fighting for her life.

  “Are you feeling better today?”

  “You just can’t wait to beat the hell out of me. Sorry to disappoint, but I feel like someone stomped on my head and is sticking red-hot pokers in my back. Actually, I’m sure that doesn’t disappoint you at all. I feel like shit. Happy?”

  Patrick smiled sheepishly. “A little. But Elizabeth would want to know you’re okay. She’s one of those people who always thinks about everyone else. She calls me several times a week to see how I am and what I’m doing. She’s got a great sense of humor. She makes up names for the women I date. So far she hasn’t liked a single one, and I can’t blame her for that. None of them has seen past the name and the money. The last woman I dated she called Oleander.” At Sam’s raised eyebrow, Patrick explained, “Beautiful to look at, but poisonous, just like the flower.”

  “I imagine the Hamilton name can be a blessing and a curse.”

  The Hamiltons came from old money. One of the original Hamilton’s had been in the shipping industry and made a fortune that had probably expanded exponentially over the years. The family still held interests in shipping, but the present Hamiltons were rooted in the law. Patrick was a successful defense attorney and Daniel was in corporate law. They took after their father, the Judge.

  “Why isn’t Elizabeth married? She’s beautiful and seems to have a good heart.”

  “The best. She suffers the Hamilton curse more than Daniel and I do. Men look at her and try to figure out how to use her to get to us and the people we know. She hardly dates. When she does, it only lasts a couple of weeks. I think the last serious relationship she had was in college. She was nuts over this guy, and they dated for several months. Right before graduation, he asked her if Dad or I would help him with some contacts to start a business. She refused to ask us, and he dumped her the next day. Since then, whenever a guy even hints at wanting to get close to us, she shuts them down and never dates them again. Most of the time they’re after some invitation to a party, or an introduction with someone she knows. She has so much to offer on her own. They don’t see her.”

  “That’s rough. She must be lonely.” Sam knew the feeling well. A lot of women liked the idea of dating an FBI agent. It always started off with them romanticizing what he did for a living. The danger seems exciting and could be a great aphrodisiac, but then reality showed its ugly head. He worked long hours, days turning into weeks when they didn’t see him, and they hated worrying during those long silences. So far he hadn’t found a woman willing to put up with his job and its demands. Or maybe they couldn’t put up with him.

  “I think she is lonely. She loves kids. I think she’d like to have a family of her own. She’ll be a great mother someday.” He stroked his sister’s arm. “She has that natural way of taking care of people. She can’t help herself. She’s got a great business sense, she’s funny, beautiful, I wish someone would see all of that and everything else about her without wondering what she can do for them.”

  Patrick wished he could find someone like his sister, Sam thought. There was a lot of love there.

  “What shop does she work for? What does she do for a living?” Patrick had told his sister Daniel was checking on her shop.

  “She owns it. She has an MBA and opened her store a few years ago. Ever heard of Decadence?”

  “The bakery and café?” Sam asked impressed.

  “Yeah. Ever been there?”

  “Hasn’t everyone who comes to the city? There’s usually a line out the door and around the block. Jenna, my sister-in-law, stops by and picks up something whenever she’s in town. I don’t think there’s been a time she’s come to the city without there being a white box with the Decadence logo left on the kitchen counter. By the time I get to it, the box is empty, and it pisses me off every time. I bet the officers on the scene the other night were happy to eat up whatever she’d baked.”

  “Apparently the racks were filled with several pies and a bunch of tarts. Kay said they cleaned every pie plate and tart tin. Elizabeth will be pissed when she wakes up and discovers she can’t use her arm to stir up a batch of cookie dough. You’ll have hell to pay for that one.”

  Sam already felt bad about shooting her, now he felt worse. He’d shot her in the right arm, and he’d bet she was right-handed. “If she’d wake up, I’ll spend a year mixing up bowls of dough for her.”

  He didn’t know what to say to Patrick about having shot his sister. I’m sorry didn’t seem to encompass his feelings. He needed to get up and stretch. The doctor had told him to take it easy, but lying on his back hurt, and he figured if he wanted to get out of this place he’d better be able to stand.

  He used the bed control to lift him into a higher sitting position. Throwing off the blankets, he swung his legs over the side of the bed slowly. Facing Elizabeth and Patrick, he sat holding on to the side of his mattress. He hissed out a breath between his clenched teeth and waited for the pain in his back to subside. His cracked ribs ached from the punches he’d taken, but his back was worse. The muscles protested and went into spasm with every movement, large or small. He broke out in a sweat just sitting there. His head pounded with the beat of his heart. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Thanks to Summer and Jenna bringing him some pajama bottoms, he didn’t have to wear a hospital gown with his ass hanging out. He stared down at his feet. Someone had put a pair of socks on him while he was passed out. He had to smile at their thoughtfulness.

  He pulled the monitors off his chest, ready to try to get up on his own. Might as well use the restroom while he got some exercise. He was supposed to ask the nurse to help him up, but he figured he could make it ten feet.

  “Man, I had no idea your ribs and stomach were so bruised and beat up. That must really hurt. I mean your face looks bad, but that looks livid.”

  “Yeah, thanks. If I hit the floor, will you pick me up?”

  “Sure, right after I stop laughing.”

  Sam would have laughed himself if it wouldn’t hurt like hell. Unable to get to his feet quite yet, he decided to wait another minute to get the pain under control.

  “I don’t know how she does it.” Exasperated, Daniel stormed into the room. “I spent an hour with an angry bride trying to convince her that Lizzy was not able to do her cake next week, no matter how much she pleaded. She’s convinced the staff at the bakery can’t do the job. The woman has no compassion. She’s only obsessed about having the perfect wedding cake. It’s a cake, for God’s sake.”

  He softened his voice and held his sister’s hand. “Come on, Lizzy. Wake up for me. I don’t want to deal with any more Bridezillas.” Daniel put his hand on top of her head, brushing her hair down. He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. Looking at Patrick, he asked, “How is she?”

  “The same. Sam said she had two attacks last night.”

  Sam had just gotten to his feet when his gaze collided with Daniel’s furious eyes.

  “I want her to wake up. I want to hear her laugh and see her smile again.” Daniel’s anger simmered in the way he stood, fists clenched at his sides. He took two menacing steps toward Sam and made him stumble back. “This is your fault, asshole.”

  Sam fell back on his ass on the bed. Every muscle in his back protested the sudden move. His cracked ribs throbbed so he tried to sit up straight, only to send a fresh wave of pain down his spine.

  Daniel stood over him. “You hurt my sister. Now I’m going to hurt you.”

  “Jesus, Daniel. The guy just stood up. Wait until he’s out of the hospital to punch him.” Patrick chuckled, but Sam caught a glimpse of regret as his vision cleared then doubled again.

  Elizabeth’s heart monitor sped up, the beginning
stages of another attack.

  “Now look what you did. You’ve upset Bee,” Patrick said in a tone he probably used when they were kids and Daniel annoyed him. He bent over his sister to soothe her. “Bee, can you hear me? It’s all right. Calm down.”

  “Lizzy, relax. He’s fine. I didn’t hit him.”

  Her heart monitor raced. Sam’s stomach rolled until he had to swallow hard to keep from throwing up, thanks to the aftereffects of the drugs and the overwhelming pain. He groaned, feeling like someone had stuck him with a fork and roasted him over a fire. The searing ache in his side throbbed. He rose to his feet again—not an easy feat in his condition—and squeezed in next to Daniel near Elizabeth’s head.

  Leaning close to her, he cupped her face in his hand and whispered. “Sweetheart, you’re okay. Calm down. Everything is fine.” He turned to the monitor next to him and watched her heart rate. Steady for several beats, it finally slowed. “That’s it, relax. Listen to me, you’re going to be all right. Rest, Elizabeth.”

  Touching her face with his fingertips, he listened to the monitor slow to a steady beat. Patrick was also watching Elizabeth’s face. He noted the worry and concern her brother showed for her. Patrick turned to Daniel and his expression changed. Sam caught sight of Daniel staring at him. After Daniel forced him back onto the bed, he must be even paler, but he didn’t understand the look of horror on Daniel’s face. Elizabeth’s parents stepped into the room and gawked at him too.

  Patrick came around Elizabeth’s bed to stand beside Daniel, all of them continuing their intense scrutiny.

  “What’s the matter with all of you?” The room remained completely quiet, except for the now steady beat of Elizabeth’s heart monitor. The way they stared made him uneasy.

  Rachel regained her speech first. “Sam, your back. I had no idea. You must be in terrible pain.”

  The muscles in his back were taught and swollen. The black and blue marks spread out from two very angry-looking bruises, one on each side of his spine just under his shoulder blades. If he hadn’t been wearing his vest, he’d be dead. Both shots would have gone straight through his heart. He turned back to Elizabeth, not letting them see how empty he felt. After all, she was a lot worse off.

  Sam kissed her on the temple before shuffling off toward the bathroom. Each step hurt. “I’m fine.” He closed the door on them and turned on the shower. He’d give them time alone with their daughter and see if the hot water could work out some of the tension in his muscles. Then he’d get some more drugs before he collapsed in a heap of pain and misery.

  “I shouldn’t have gotten in his face like that,” Daniel addressed Patrick, his voice contrite.

  “What do you mean?” John was angry too, but knew Agent Turner hadn’t meant to hurt his daughter. He saw the way Sam looked at her and gently kissed her, he’d give anything to take back what happened. That said more to him than any words Sam offered. He didn’t like the fact his son had lost his temper and taken it out on Sam. They were usually cool-headed, except when it came to family, and especially Elizabeth.

  “I came in to check on Elizabeth and update her and Patrick on the shop,” Daniel tried to explain. “He stood up from the bed, and I don’t know what happened. All the anger I’ve been feeling about Elizabeth became too much. He was standing, and she hasn’t even opened her eyes.”

  Patrick thought he’d help and added, “Bee heard the angry words and got upset. Maybe she knew what was going on. I think the only thing that got Sam up again was Bee. It must have taken every ounce of strength the guy had do it. As soon as he talked to her, she calmed down. I think she heard him.”

  They’d been talking to her for days hoping something was getting through to her, but Sam had the most impact on her. John thought that was interesting.

  “You boys had better leave that poor man alone,” Rachel addressed her sons like they were naughty children, taking him back to better days. “Can’t you see he’s hurting, and I don’t mean his back and ribs? Think about what he must see in his line of work and the things he has to do. Better yet, ask your father to tell you about some of the horrific cases that come into his courtroom. Cases I’m sure Sam has had to work on. He’s probably spent every second since this happened hoping and praying for her to be okay. Maybe more than we have, because he feels responsible for what happened.

  “I bet if you asked him, he’d tell you he’d trade places with her in a second. This wasn’t his fault. He didn’t cause this. Let’s not forget the man was drugged and a killer was after him.

  “You guys want to start doling out blame, there’s plenty to go around, but it won’t do us any good, and it certainly won’t help your sister. She needs us to stand together with Sam. She risked her life to save him. When she wakes up, she’ll want to know he’s okay and her brothers haven’t killed him.” She gave them the look she’d always used on them when they were little boys. She got the proper apologetic looks and went to Elizabeth’s side.

  John gave his sons a glare, letting them know they’d deserved the whip of their mother’s tongue.

  “There you go, baby girl. I put your brothers in their place. You rest. Sam is fine.” Rachel kissed Elizabeth and held tight to him while he frowned at his sons. He had to admit, his wife could be formidable when it came to her kids. And people thought his temper was fierce.

  Chapter Nine

  * * *

  Monday, 10:30 A.M.

  TYLER ENTERED DEPUTY Director Davies’s office ready with his update on the Silver Fox case. Tyler received the forensic analysis this morning, along with the ballistics report on the bullets recovered from Elizabeth’s body. The attempt on an agent’s life left Sam injured and made the case a top priority. Every available resource was being used to find out what happened and identify the man behind the Silver Fox name. Tyler wanted to solve this case more than anything, because he’d been partly responsible for Sam’s abduction and near death. He couldn’t even think about what Elizabeth Hamilton had been through with the Silver Fox.

  “What have you got?” Davies motioned for Tyler to take the seat in front of his desk.

  “Quite a lot, actually. The blood recovered near the vehicle was type A negative. Elizabeth Hamilton’s blood type is B positive. I should have the DNA analysis this afternoon, along with the analysis on the scrapings we took from under Elizabeth’s nails.”

  “Good thing the paramedics thought to bag her hands.”

  Tyler nodded his agreement and went on. “In addition to Elizabeth’s blood on the knife, we also found the suspect’s blood type. I think she stabbed or cut him, which I’ll verify with Elizabeth when she’s able to speak to us.

  “We’ve got an analysis of the skid marks, confirming the vehicle was a Toyota 4Runner. The police found an abandoned burned out one several blocks from the crime scene with a smashed front end. The vehicle is being processed for evidence, but due to the fire the likelihood there’s anything worthwhile is next to nil. The most helpful evidence came from Elizabeth herself. Once we have the DNA profile, we can check the databases for a match and the Silver Fox’s true identity. I have a feeling we won’t be that lucky, however.”

  Davies frowned. “What about the bullets recovered from Elizabeth and Sam’s vest?”

  “Ballistics came back this morning. All of the bullets recovered came from the same Ruger 9mm. We found it in the suspect’s vehicle. The fire destroyed any prints we might have gotten, and of course the serial number was filed off. The lab guys are trying to recover the serial number and any other evidence.”

  “So pretty much we have evidence, but none of it points to any one particular person. The DNA profile probably won’t amount to anything. Our guy isn’t stupid. He’s not in the system anywhere. That would be too easy. Basically, we need to know if Ms. Hamilton can identify this guy. Sam’s a dead end. He’s not cooperating. What do you make of that?”

  “Sam is on the fast track to burnout. This may have been the last straw for him. Shooting Ms. Hamilton
messed with his head. Not to mention the fact he feels responsible for what happened to her because we screwed up.”

  “We? You take responsibility for this mess too?”

  “I shouldn’t have let him go in alone. Both of us felt something was wrong. We should have called in backup. Of course, knowing what we know now, it’s easy to say that. If we’d called in a bunch of agents and the meeting went down without a hitch, it would have been a huge waste of time and resources.”

  “Exactly. Based on the information you had at the time, you both did the right thing. It didn’t turn out well, but you followed protocol. So far, Judge Hamilton is taking this well. He hasn’t threatened a lawsuit, and he’s wound down to threatening to kill Sam every few hours instead of every five minutes.

  “On the other hand, I’m concerned about Sam. He’s working himself to death, and his cases have taken an emotional toll. Because of the shooting, he’ll be on paid administrative leave until the investigation is over and he completes his routine visits with the mind benders.”

  Tyler cocked the corner of his mouth. “Mind benders, sir?”

  “I hate those guys. I know they’re necessary, but do you really think they’ll get a man like Sam to open up and dump out his feelings? He’ll give them the answers they want to hear, so he can get back to his job.”

  “Sam will jump through their hoops and get himself cleared to work again, but I don’t think that’s a good idea at this point. He needs a break. He’s been hip deep in the shit for too long. He needs a beach and a babe.”

  Davies smiled. “Doesn’t every man need a beach and a babe?”

  The pause in conversation worried Tyler. Deputy Director Davies contemplated some unknown topic, then spoke deliberately. “If you don’t think Sam is ready to come back on the job, he isn’t.”

  Tyler wasn’t often stunned. Deputy Director Davies’s show of confidence was unexpected, but uplifting. Relatively new to the San Francisco office, he still had a lot to prove.