“Anderson is the best,” Harry said. “He’s a great friend of Sam’s from all her many trips to the ER.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  Terry appreciated Harry trying to keep his spirits up, but the panic intensified with every minute that passed in that small, airless room.

  A quick knock on the door was the only warning they got that the doctor had arrived. “I’m Dr. Anderson, an ER attending physician.”

  “Terry O’Connor. I’m…” He could barely speak around the gigantic lump of fear in his throat. “Lindsey’s fiancé.”

  Anderson shook hands with Terry, Byron and Harry. “Good to see you, Dr. Flynn.”

  “How is she?” Harry asked.

  “We’re rerunning her blood work, as it came back a little off. As soon as we have more info, I’ll be back to update you.”

  He wanted to ask what off meant but was afraid he wouldn’t want to know. “Is she awake? Could I be with her?”

  “She’s resting right now, but I’ll get you in to see her soon.”

  Harry followed the doctor out of the room and closed the door.

  Terry stared at that door until it opened again. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing.” Harry’s furrowed brows put Terry on alert.

  “Please tell me.”

  “They don’t know anything for certain yet. It’s better to wait for the test results to come back.”

  “Tell me, Harry. What do they think it is?”

  “It could be anything from anemia to leukemia.”

  Byron gasped.

  Terry felt as if a trapdoor had opened under him and sucked him into a deep, dark abyss. “That’s n-not possible. She’s perfectly healthy.” Or she had been, until lately.

  Harry put a hand on Terry’s shoulder. “Let’s wait and see what they find out.”

  The fact that Harry looked worried only added to the tsunami of anxiety and dread building in Terry.

  “I need to see her.”

  “He said he’d be back for you as soon as he could,” Harry said.

  Terry sat and dropped his head into his hands, wanting to wail at the thought of her being seriously ill. They were due to be married in a few short months. There couldn’t be anything wrong with her.

  There just couldn’t be.

  * * *

  On the way to Bryant’s home, Sam watched her phone, hoping for an update on Lindsey.

  “You don’t think it’s anything bad, do you?” Freddie asked.

  “I have no idea, but she has been feeling off lately.”

  “She was so pale when they wheeled her out. Even her lips were pale.”

  “I saw that, too.”

  The BlackBerry she used to communicate with Nick buzzed in her pocket. She retrieved it to find a text from Nick asking if she’d heard anything about Lindsey.

  Nothing yet, but she was scary pale when they took her out of HQ. Is Terry with her?

  Hate to hear that, and yes, he left about twenty minutes ago. Harry is with him.

  That’s good. That’ll help.

  Let me know if you hear anything.

  I will. You too.

  “Terry and Harry are at the hospital.” Sam put the BlackBerry back in her pocket. “I’ve completely forgotten where we’re going or why.” She hadn’t been this rattled since the morning they found her brother-in-law Spencer unresponsive at Camp David.

  “To see Bryant about the connection between Cox and Forrester and anything else he can tell us.”

  “Right.”

  Sam checked her watch. “I have to be back to HQ at three thirty for a dress fitting for the state dinner, which has never felt less important than it does now.”

  “You have to do what you have to do.”

  “It feels wrong to be thinking about something so stupid as a dress fitting when Tom is in the morgue and Lindsey’s in the hospital.”

  “You know how she is. No muss, no fuss. She’d want you to do your thing and not worry about her.”

  “That’s impossible.” Over the last few years of working closely together, Lindsey McNamara had become one of Sam’s closest and dearest friends.

  They arrived at Bryant’s Adams Morgan home and rang the bell. After a few minutes passed with no sign of him, Freddie rang the bell again and then pounded on the door.

  “Police, open up.”

  “Do we have a number for him?”

  “I think so.”

  “Find it and call it.”

  Freddie got busy on his phone. “Gonzo is texting it to me.” After he made the call, he put the phone on speaker. It rang several times before Bryant answered with a grunt.

  “Police at your door. Open up.”

  “I’m not saying another word to you without my lawyer present. I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “That’s too bad, because we might’ve been able to offer you some help later if you were to return the favor now.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “That depends on the quality of the info you provide.”

  “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “Make it a quick minute. We’re in a hurry.”

  Four minutes later, Sam’s head was about to blow off her neck. “Where the hell is he?”

  Freddie pounded on the door again as he looked through the glass on the right side of the door. “He’s going out the back!”

  They took off running, going in opposite directions toward the back of the block-long building.

  Sam was aware of one of her Secret Service agents running after her, but she didn’t take the time to figure out which one. Her chest and legs burned from the effort, proving she’d fallen badly out of shape while dining on White House cuisine. She rounded the corner and slammed head-on into Bryant, who was running even faster than she was. The impact sent both of them flying.

  She managed to grab his shirt before she landed hard on her right hand, crying out from the pain that radiated from wrist to shoulder. Part of him had connected with her left cheek, which hurt like the devil as she forced herself to keep her wits about her, to grab her cuffs, to get them on him and then to try to catch her breath while managing a hand that didn’t want to work the way it was supposed to.

  And then a sharp pain from the vicinity of her hip registered, overtaking every other concern. If she’d rebroken her recently healed hip, she would kill Bryant with her bare hands.

  Chapter Nine

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat on top of Bryant, struggling to breathe, before Freddie appeared. When he saw her sitting on top of the congressman, he stepped up his pace.

  “Look at you. I called for backup. Should be here any second.”

  Sam glanced up at him.

  He gasped. “You’re hurt.”

  “Nah, I’m fine.”

  “Your face is bleeding.”

  She reached up to see what he was talking about and came away with bloodstained fingers. “Son of a bitch.” Why did these things always have to happen right before a big event? Never failed.

  “This is police brutality!” Bryant shouted.

  “Shut up. You ran from us. Why’d you do that?”

  “Cuz I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  Sam moved carefully to get up, waving off Freddie’s offer of help. Searing pain from her hip had her biting back a gasp.

  “What happened to your hand?” Freddie asked.

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “It’s bleeding and hanging like it’s broken.”

  “It’s not broken.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sam…”

  “Let’s get him back to HQ so we can ask our questions.”

  Bryant resisted Freddie’s attempt to walk him toward the corner, where an MPD cruiser awaited. “I want my lawyer! You’ll regret treating me this way. I’m still a United States congressman!”

  Sam gave him a scathing look. “Tell it to the judge.”

  * * *

  She limped toward the SUV, feeling more certain with every step that she’d reinjured her hip and that her wrist might be broken. But she didn’t have time to deal with any of that right now.

  Vernon greeted her with a first aid kit in hand. He took one look at her and withdrew gauze and ointment. “Take a seat.”

  She moved carefully, gasping when her backside connected with the leather seat.

  “What’s the story?” Vernon asked as he dabbed at her face.

  Hissing, she recoiled. “What the hell was that? Battery acid?”

  “That’s exactly what it was. How’d you guess?”

  “Most of the time, I appreciate your sarcasm. This is not one of those times.”

  “Do you need the ER?”

  “No.”

  “Hold up your arm.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Sam.”

  “Vernon.”

  “I’m required to notify my supervisor that the first lady has been injured.”

  “If you do that, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Sam.”

  “Vernon! I have a fitting for my dress for tomorrow night that I can’t miss at three thirty. In addition, I’ve got the entire Federal Bureau of Investigation breathing down my neck to get their sweaty paws on the Forrester case. I’ve got to make something happen today, or we’re going to lose control of this thing.”

  “Might I point out that you have your very own physician on staff at home who could meet us at HQ to tend to your injuries while you tend to your work?”

  “Yes, you may point that out to me.”

  “And might you speak to me again if I were to notify Dr. Flynn that his services are needed by the first lady at her place of employment?”

  Sam gave him a side-eyed look to gauge whether he was trying not to laugh. “Are you managing me, by any chance?”

  “Would I do that?”

  “Yes, I believe you would.”

  “Shall I reach out to Dr. Flynn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was that so hard?”

  “Learn to quit while you’re ahead.”

  “My wife has been saying that to me for thirty years.”

  “I’d think you would’ve learned by now.”

  “Learned what?” Freddie asked when he joined them.

  “How to quit while he’s ahead.”

  “What’d you do, Vernon? Suggest she might need the ER or something?”

  “Or something. I’ll make that call now and get you back to the office ASAP.”

  After Vernon stepped back, Freddie said, “What was that about?”

  “He’s getting Harry to come to HQ to deal with… this.” She used her chin to gesture to the injured hand.

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “I have to be there for that fitting.” She looked up at him. “I know it’s so stupid, but he hardly asks me for anything. This is important.”

  “Yes, it is, and it’s not stupid.”

  “Compared to finding the person who killed Tom, it is.”

  “Different kinds of important.”

  “Dr. Flynn is at the ER with Dr. McNamara, but he agreed to meet you since her fiancé is there with her.”

  “Now I feel like shit because Terry and Lindsey need him more than I do.”

  Vernon glanced at the hand sitting awkwardly on her lap. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

  Sam hoped her glare spoke for her. “Do not tell my husband about this—or tell anyone who’ll tell him. He’s busy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He waited for her to turn to put her legs in the car—and holy shit, that hurt—before he closed the door and got in the driver’s side.

  “That was an awesome takedown, Sam,” Jimmy said when they were on the way to HQ.

  “I got lucky when I crashed into him.”

  “Did you, though?” Freddie asked.

  “I kept him from getting away. That’s what matters.”

  Freddie gave her a concerned look. “I really hope it’s nothing serious.”

  As pain radiated from her hip, she was filled with dread that it might be very serious. No way did she have time to deal with that—again.

  * * *

  Terry felt like a bear trapped in a cage as he paced the length of that small room at least a thousand times.

  Harry took a call. “Yes, I can meet her there in thirty minutes.” He turned to Terry. “Sam’s been injured on the job. I’m meeting her at HQ.”

  “Why not here?”

  “She says she doesn’t have time—and she doesn’t want Nick to know about it yet. Call me when you hear from the doctor.”

  “How much longer do I have to wait to see Lindsey?”

  The door opened to Dr. Anderson. “You can come in, Mr. O’Connor.”

  Terry took off toward the door and nearly knocked the doctor over in his haste.

  Harry stayed with him while they went into Lindsey’s exam room.

  Upon seeing her, Terry was filled with dread. He’d never seen her so pale.

  She held out a hand to him.

  He went to her and took hold of her cold hand.

  “Sorry to scare you.”

  “I’m fine if you’re fine.” He glanced toward Anderson, who was typing on a computer terminal. “What’re we dealing with, Doc?”

  “Lindsey is extremely anemic, which is concerning. We’re trying to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Is that why I’ve been so tired?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Have you been sick at all in the last few months?”

  “I had a weird virus a few weeks ago that included a high fever for several days.”

  “How many days?”

  She looked to Terry. “Most of a week.”

  Terry nodded.

  “That’s good to know,” Anderson said. “It’s possible you wiped out your red blood cells fighting that off.”

  “That can happen?”

  “Sure can.”

  “I like that better than leukemia,” Lindsey said.

  “I do, too. Let me dig into the blood work a little deeper.”

  “Can I go home?”

  “I want to keep you overnight so we can get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

  That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  Terry wanted her right there with people who knew what they were doing. “You’re in the best place to figure out what’s we’re dealing with, Linds.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “We’ve got the state dinner tomorrow.”

  “There’ll be others.”

  “Terry’s right,” Harry said. “Let Dr. Anderson run some tests and get to the bottom of this so we can get you feeling better.”

  Lindsey nodded and used a tissue Terry gave her to wipe away tears that further rattled Terry’s already-shredded nerves. His Lindsey rarely shed a tear. In fact, she teased him about being moved by movies and TV shows that had no effect on her. He said she’d breathed too much formaldehyde fumes at work and had gone numb.

  He loved that they had their own language and inside jokes. His relationship with her was like nothing he’d experienced before, a connection so deep, she was truly a part of him.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off,” she said when they were alone in her room.

  Harry had left to see to Sam, and the doctor had promised to return shortly.

  “I’m not allowed to think about how much I love you?”

  “Oh, that’s perfectly permissible.”

  “I thought it might be.”

  “Hey.”

  He looked up at her. “Hey, what?”

  “Stop spinning. I’m okay.”

  “Can’t help the spinning.”

  “Don’t let it lead to the dark places, you hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out and move on.”

  He couldn’t get the word leukemia out of his mind. What would they do if she had something like that?

  “Terry. Stop.”

  “Don’t worry about me. This isn’t about me.”

  “Of course it is. It’s about both of us, but I can’t focus on getting well if I’m worried about you. This is such a big week for you⁠—”

  “Don’t even think about that. I’m not.”

  “How can you not be?”

  He’d been working twelve-hour days for weeks preparing for the Canadian state visit to make sure everything went perfectly for Nick. “It hasn’t crossed my mind since I heard you were in an ambulance.”

  His work phone rang with a call from Nick.

  “Take it,” Lindsey said.

  He released her hand to fish the phone out of his suit coat pocket. “Mr. President.”

  “How is she, Terry?”

  “Feisty,” he said with a smile for his beloved.

  “That’s always a good thing.”

  “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “I met with Derek, and he’s on board to see things through tomorrow.” Derek Kavanaugh was the deputy chief of staff, who mostly focused on their dealings with Congress. “Take the time you need with Lindsey.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. It’s done by executive order.”

  Terry gave a soft laugh. “I appreciate that, and I’m a phone call away if needed.”

  “We know how to find you. Take care of your family. Thanks to your preparation, everything will be fine tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President.”

  “Keep us posted on how she’s doing and give her our love.”

  “I will, sir. Thank you again.”

  “Anything for family. I’ll check on you in the morning.”

  The line went dead.

  He smiled at Lindsey. “Well, I guess you’ve got yourself a full-time nurse.”

  “No one I’d rather have.”

  Chapter Ten

  By the time they arrived back at HQ, Sam was in serious pain, but made an intense effort to hide that from Freddie, Vernon and Jimmy. She had to push through this day, move the Forrester case along and get ready for tomorrow’s first lady duties. In her mind, there was no option other than to forge ahead.

  Vernon and Jimmy, who normally remained outside while she was working, led the way into HQ, as if they didn’t trust that she’d allow Harry to check her before resuming the investigation.