“Sam,” Malone said in his no-nonsense voice. “Let them take care of you.”

“No IVs.” She fucking hated needles.

The paramedic shook his head at her insolence. “Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”

“Get me out of here. I want to see my husband.”

“Give us a second to clear the street of media,” Malone said.

“Hurry up about it.”

“Is she giving me orders?” Malone asked Gonzo and Cruz, who both seemed relieved to see that her day with Stahl hadn’t done a thing to curb her sauciness.

“It sounds like that to me, sir.” Freddie said the words in his best suck-up voice even if he seemed like he was about to lose his composure.

“You guys, look at Stahl for Lori’s murder, Bill Springer’s murder and Elin’s assault.”

“What?” Freddie said, his face flat with shock. “What did he have to do with that?”

“He put the guy up to it so you’d go into the jail and do exactly what you did. He was after my inner circle.”

Freddie took an uncomfortable glance at Malone and Farnsworth.

“What exactly did you do, Detective Cruz?” Malone asked.

“I had a conversation with the man who assaulted my girlfriend.”

“By conversation, do you mean...”

“I made sure he understood that she’s off-limits to him, and it’s in his best interest to leave her alone.”

“I see,” Malone said. “I suppose any of us would’ve done the same in your shoes.”

“Yes, sir, I’m sure you would have if you could see what he did to her,” Freddie said.

“So this whole thing—Lori’s murder, Springer’s murder, Elin’s assault—it was all done to discredit the department?” Farnsworth asked.

“Yes,” Sam said, “and he was also the one who told the Springers that we were looking at Billy for the murders of Hugo and the others.”

“How did he know that?” Gonzo asked. “He’d been relieved of duty before the Springer investigation.”

“He must’ve had help from within,” Malone concluded. “Someone told him and he told the Springers. That’s how they knew.”

“Look at Ramsey,” Sam said. “He hates me for some unknown reason and would love to see me go down in flames like I nearly did today.”

“It’s a good place to start,” Farnsworth said.

“Can you please get me the fuck out of here?” Sam asked the EMTs.

“Yeah,” one of them said, “let’s roll.”

“Is the street clear of all reporters?” Jeannie asked.

“Let me check.” Freddie ran ahead of the paramedics who planned to take her out through the garage. “Good to go,” he reported a minute later.

The EMTs rolled her out of the house into the gloriously cold air. After more than an hour of breathing gasoline fumes, she’d never been happier to get a lungful of fresh air.

Nick and Brant were standing at the end of the driveway. Brant had his hand on Nick’s arm as if he were physically holding her husband back. When Nick saw her coming, he shook off the agent and ran to her.

Sam held out her arms to him and finally broke down when he wrapped her up in his tight embrace.

“Tell me you’re all right,” he whispered in her ear.

“I am now.”

“God, Sam.”

“I know. I’m so sorry to put you through this.”

“Not your fault.”

“We’d like to get her to the ER,” one of the EMTs said. “Sir.”

Nick released his tight hold and grasped her hand. “I’m going with her.”

Brant cleared his throat. “Um, Mr. Vice President—”

“Right now I’m Mr. Cappuano, and this is my wife. I’m going with her.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” Brant muttered.

“You probably ought to get used to it,” Malone said, speaking from experience. “That’s how they roll.”

“Awesome,” Brant said sarcastically, making the others laugh. “I’ll be right behind you. Don’t step foot out of the ambulance until I’m there.”

“I suppose I can live with that,” Nick said.

The paramedics wheeled her to the ambulance and got her settled. Nick followed her into the back of the bone wagon.

“How bad do I look?”

“On a scale of bomb to pistol-whipped, you’re more in the pistol-whip end of things.”

Relieved that his sense of humor was intact despite what had to have been an awful ordeal for him, she took hold of his left hand and rubbed her thumb over his wedding ring. “You were all I thought about in there—you and Scotty and the last year. I relived every minute.”

He hung his head and brought her hand to his lips. “He didn’t, you know, try to... I can’t even say it.”

“No.”

“Thank God.” He continued to kiss her hand, but now she felt dampness on his face.

“Come closer. You’re too far away over there.”

Since she’d refused all needles, the EMT got busy consulting his phone.

Nick moved over to sit on Sam’s gurney. He propped a hand on either side of her head and leaned in to kiss her.

“Why do you smell like gas?”

“Because Stahl dumped it all over the floor and was playing with matches when the SWAT guys busted in on his party.”

Nick shuddered at the realization of what could’ve happened. “What was he doing out of jail after he attacked you the first time?”

“He made bail,” Sam said. “I suspect Marissa Springer gave him the money. Between that and his long record of service to the department, his lawyer was able to make a case for bail. He won’t get out again after this. That’s for sure.”

“If we’re looking at the bright side, one less enemy to contend with.”

“I have to say, you’re rolling with all of this better than I expected. Dare I say you might be getting used to the insanity that goes along with being married to me?”

He shook his head. “I’ll never get used to you being in this kind of danger. Never. When I got that call from Christina that you were missing and had possibly been taken hostage, my heart about stopped.”

“You didn’t tell Scotty, did you?”

He shook his head, but the grim set to his mouth worried her.

She traced a finger over his lips. “What’s that about?”

“We’ll talk later.” He glanced at the EMT. “When we’re alone.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s no big deal. It’s nothing compared to what could’ve happened today.” He dropped his head onto her chest.

Sam ran her fingers through his silky dark hair.

“Why are you all cut up?”

“He wrapped me in razor wire so I couldn’t move.”

“Fucking hell,” he whispered.

They kept their voices down so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. Thankfully the loud sirens made it easy to keep their words private.

“I was surprised you were out there when I heard your voice. Afterward. I didn’t think the Secret Service would let you come there.”

“They didn’t. I’m on Brant’s shit list big-time.”

Sam chuckled, imagining the scene he must’ve made. “So you laid down the law, huh?”

“There was swearing involved.”

“You never swear!”

“I do when my precious, beloved wife is in danger and someone is trying to keep me from going to her.”

She reached up to touch his hair and then his face. “Thinking of you was the only thing that kept me from losing my shit in there. I thought about you constantly.”

He burrowed into the space between her head and shoulder, and despite the lingering pain in her stiff muscles and the burn from the cuts, Sam wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m sorry to have put you through this.”

“Not your fault, babe, so don’t go there.”

“It was my fault. I went in there by myself with no one knowing where I was. It was stupid and not like me at all. But I didn’t get any alarm bells from Marissa when I was there earlier. She really played me, and now I’m questioning everything. If Freddie had done something like this, I’d be ripping him a new one right now.”

“From what I heard, you were shorthanded today and were working the case like you were supposed to. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“I could’ve gotten myself killed.” She had to fight to swallow over the lump in her throat. “I thought for sure I was going to die. I even thought about my mother and how I should’ve made things right with her when I had the chance.”