When they arrived at the rehab center in downtown Baltimore, Nick’s Secret Service detail went in ahead of them while they waited in the car.
“Do you have to go through this everywhere you go?” Michael asked.
“Every single time,” Nick said. “And you wonder why I’m not jumping at the chance to be president?”
“I’m not exactly wondering,” Michael said as the others laughed.
They waited fifteen minutes until Brant, Nick’s lead agent, came to let them out of the car. Inside, they were shown to a private room that’d been arranged in advance by the Secret Service.
Gonzo joined them there a few minutes later, hugging each of them and thanking them for coming. “It’s so great to see you guys.”
Sam was relieved to see him looking and sounding more like his old self than he had in the dreadful months since January. The haunted look in his eyes was gone, and the bright, engaged friend she loved so much seemed to be back. “You look great.”
“I feel really good.”
With the Secret Service positioned outside the door, they sat on folding chairs around the table.
“I wish I could offer you drinks or something,” Gonzo said.
“Don’t worry about us,” Sam said. “We’re fine. We want to hear how you’re doing.”
“Much better. The extra month has made a big difference. Andy was here last week,” he said, referring to Nick’s attorney friend.
“How come?” Sam asked.
“We’ve been talking with the U.S. Attorney’s Office, and I’m going to plead guilty to a misdemeanor.” He’d bought pills on the street during the worst of his addiction and somehow that had been reported to the U.S. Attorney. “It’s the best possible outcome and allows me to keep my job and rank.”
“That’s bullshit,” Sam said, immediately incensed. “You have an illness. You shouldn’t be charged for things you did when you were sick after your partner was murdered.”
Gonzo offered a small smile. “If anyone else in the department got caught doing what I did, you wouldn’t feel that way.”
“Yes, I would. Drug addiction is an illness. If it can be proven that someone is sick when they’re out scoring, they ought to be given a break. I’ve always thought we needed to spend more money on rehab and less on prosecution.”
“I’ve heard her say that before,” Freddie said.
“It’s my fault you got caught in the first place,” Sam said. “My feud with Ramsey led to this. He was looking for a way to hurt me by going after you.” There’d been bad blood between Sam and the Special Victims sergeant for some time now. From what she’d been able to gather, he resented her rise through the ranks, among other beefs he frequently liked to air out to anyone who’d listen. Their feud had intensified when the U.S. Attorney declined to indict her after she punched him and he fell down a flight of stairs, breaking his wrist and suffering a concussion.
“This is my fault, Sam,” Gonzo said. “I took a massive chance with my career, my reputation and my life. I knew it at the time, and I didn’t care.”
“That was the addiction speaking,” Sam said. “The Gonzo I’ve worked with would’ve cared. It’s not something you would’ve done if you hadn’t been sick. And why were you sick? Because your partner was murdered right in front of you on the job.”
“I know this is upsetting to you, Sam—”
“If you do this, you’ll never move past sergeant,” she said.
“I know, and I’ve made my peace with that.”
“It’s wrong,” Jeannie said. “You’re the best of us all. You could be chief someday.”
“Once upon a time, I might’ve wanted that, but I’m learning to find comfort in what is rather than what used to be or what might’ve been.”
“Before you sign anything, let me have a word with the chief,” Sam said.
“I agreed to the deal. I’m due to sign the paperwork when I get out of here, and that’s what’s best for me, to not have this shit hanging over my head.”
She wanted to scream, yell and break shit over the sheer injustice of him pleading to a criminal charge when scumbags like Ramsey were getting away with ruining the career of one of the best cops Sam had ever worked with.
“When do you get out?” Freddie asked.
“They’re saying this week sometime.”
“How’re things with Christina?” Jeannie asked.
“Better,” Gonzo said. “We talk a lot, and we’re both ready to get back to normal, whatever that is after everything I’ve put her through.”
“She loves you, man,” Freddie said. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“I hope so. I guess we’ll see. So, enough about me. What’s going on with you guys? Tell me everything about the Tara Weber case. I feel so cut off in here.”
They filled him in on the case they’d recently closed in which the president’s mistress had been murdered, leaving Sam and Nick once again breathless with dread as they waited to see if President Nelson could hang on to his office through yet another scandal.
“You guys must’ve been dying,” Gonzo said to Sam and Nick.
“Ah, yeah, kinda,” Nick said. “I expected that being his VP would be mostly boring—and it’s been that too.”
“You couldn’t have predicted his son would become a murderer, or that he’d have an affair while his wife was undergoing cancer treatment,” Gonzo said. “I still can’t believe that. It’s so disgusting.”
“That was the hardest part for me to swallow too,” Sam said. “Gloria is a really nice lady, and she’s stood by his side through his entire career. She deserved better than what she got from him.”
“At least she left him,” Jeannie said. “None of that ‘stand by your man’ nonsense that political wives are known for.”
“This political wife has already told her man the same thing,” Sam said, grinning at Nick.
“And my wife knows she has nothing to worry about on that front.”
“The word castration was used,” Sam said, making the guys wince.
“She’s all bark and no bite,” Nick said.
“Um,” Freddie said, “I think there’s some bite behind her bark. Just sayin’.”
“That’s right,” Sam said with a big grin, “and don’t you guys forget it.”
“I miss you all so much,” Gonzo said with a sigh. “I can’t wait to get back to work.”
“How much longer?” Freddie asked.
“A few more days in-patient, and then they want me to take a week or two at home before I come back part-time.”
“We’ll take whatever we can get,” Sam said.
They spent another hour chatting with him before they stood to leave. Nick went to the door and gave a knock to let Brant know they were ready.
“We have to wait for him to come get us,” Nick said.
“This is fascinating,” Michael said. “Truly.”
“Glad you think so,” Nick said. “It drives me bonkers.”