Chapter Seventeen
It had taken hours to arrange the security for Nick to join her in New Carrollton, and since she didn’t want to go without him, she’d waited, which is why they were setting out at seven p.m. Since the traffic was, as Nick had hoped, unusually beastly for a Sunday night, Sam took advantage of the time in the car to place a call to Lilia.
She answered on the second ring. “This is Lilia.”
“It’s Sam. Sam Cappuano.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick smile at the rare use of her married name.
“I know,” Lilia said. “I’ve got you programmed into my phone.”
“Oh, well, okay then. I’m sorry to bother you after hours and on a weekend.”
“No such thing as after hours or weekends in my line of work.”
“Mine either.”
“So we have that in common.”
“Apparently we do.”
“What can I do for you tonight, Mrs. Cappuano?”
“Will you please call me Sam when it’s just us and no one else is listening?”
“I’ll try to remember to do that. And I want to say I saw your press conference, and I’m so sorry for the loss of your colleague and friend. If there’s anything I can do to be of assistance to you or the vice president during this terrible tragedy, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you. And that’s why I’m calling.
Nick and I have been talking about Tuesday and how I should navigate the more celebratory aspects in light of the loss of Detective Arnold.
While I’m heartbroken over his senseless death and wish to convey that in all my public interactions, I’m also obligated to my husband.
I guess you could say I’m torn over what to do about the balls and whatnot. ”
“I can totally understand your dilemma. If you’re asking my opinion—”
“I am. What should I do?”
“Attend the inauguration ceremony and one ball. Do a ceremonial twirl around the dance floor with your husband and we’ll put out a statement from your office that Vice President and Mrs. Cappuano have left to spend time with her colleagues and friends with the Metropolitan Police Department as they mourn the loss of one of their own. ”
“Wow, you’re good.”
“Why thank you,” she said with a laugh. “So you’d be comfortable with that?”
“Yes, I think I would be. Hang on a second.” Sam put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Would you be okay with one dance at one ball before we return to our friends with the MPD to mourn the loss of Detective Arnold?”
“As always, my love, I want to be wherever you are, so if we’re one dance and out, that’s fine with me.”
Sam leaned in to kiss him. “Have I told you yet today that you’re the best husband I’ve ever had?”
Nick snorted with laughter. “The bar was set awfully low.”
“Indeed it was.” She returned the phone to her ear. “Lilia, it’s a plan. Nick is fully on board.”
“Excellent. I’ll coordinate everything with his office to make sure it’s smoothly done.”
“Thank you again, and I’ll be in touch in regard to what we talked about the other day. Needless to say, I’m back to work and otherwise occupied for the time being.”
“I completely understand. We’ll be here when you’re ready to proceed with our plans.”
“Very good. I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“See you then.”
Sam slapped her phone closed. “I can’t believe I’m about to say what I’m about to say, but I like her.”
“Wow. That is high praise indeed. You don’t like anyone.”
“I like you. Most of the time anyway.”
“Only most of the time?”
“Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent of the time.”
“I gotta work on that zero-point-zero-one percent.” He held out his arm to her, and Sam snuggled into his embrace. “How you doing, babe?”
“I feel sick inside, heartbroken for Arnold and his family, worried about Gonzo and the rest of the squad. It’s so awful.”
“It’s my worst nightmare come to life. I talked to Christina earlier today, and she feels the same way. The arbitrary, out-of-nowhere-ness of it is enough to shake us all to our core as our hearts break for the one who was lost.”
“I’m sorry you have to live with that kind of fear. I hate that for you and Christina and Elin and Arnold’s parents.”
“I hate it, too, but I love you enough to let you be you, even with all the risks and dangers. But this… Arnold being gunned down on a quiet street for no apparent reason… It’s shaken me up, Sam. I won’t lie to you about that.”
“I wouldn’t want you to.” She checked her watch. “We should call Scotty while we have time. It’s probably shaken him up, too.”
Nick pulled his personal cell phone from his pocket. “Let’s do one better.” He made a FaceTime call to their son, who answered right away.
“Hey, where are you guys?”
“On our way to see Detective Arnold’s parents.”
“Oh wow. I’m sorry, Mom. He was a wicked nice guy.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Are you, you know, okay and everything?”
His incredible sweetness brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sad, buddy. We’re all sad, but we’re doing what we need to do to catch the man who shot him.”
“I hope you catch him soon.”
“So do I. How was your day?”
“It was fine. I went to see Grandpa Skip and hung out with Abby and Ethan for a while this afternoon,” he said of Sam’s sister Tracy’s kids. “Did my homework. Nothing special.”
“Sometimes a day in which nothing special happens is a day to be thankful for.”
“I guess so.”
“We’ll be home in a little while, okay?”
“Okay. Tell them… His parents… Tell them I said I’m so sorry.”
“We’ll do that. See you soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Bye, buddy,” Nick said.
“He’s such a sweetheart,” Sam said.
“He is. This is going to hit him hard, you know. That someone he knows could be gunned down the way Arnold was, especially after what happened to you.”
“Do you think we need to get him some preventative counseling?”
“Probably wouldn’t hurt.”
“We can talk to him about it and feel him out.”
They pulled into the Arnolds’ neighborhood half an hour later. Numerous cars were in the driveway and parked at the curb. The motorcade only added to the congestion on the quiet street.
“Hey, Brant,” Nick said. “Let’s keep it to two cars on the street. The others can park around the corner. We’re not looking to create a three-ring circus for these people.”
“Understood,” Brant said. He issued orders into a radio and then got out of the car to open the door for Nick and Sam. “We haven’t done advance recon here, so we’re a bit nervous about this.”
“We’ll be in and out,” Sam assured him. “We don’t want to intrude any longer than necessary.”
Surrounded by agents, they walked up the sidewalk. The front door was opened before they could knock, and they were shown inside.
A woman with eyes gone red and puffy from crying shook hands with both of them. “Mr. Vice President, Lieutenant Holland, it’s an honor to have you here. I’m Debbie, Mrs. Arnold’s sister. I’ll let her and John know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Sam said.
She gestured for them to have a seat in the living room while they waited.
They sat together on the sofa, and Nick wrapped his hand around hers.
“Thanks for coming with me,” she whispered.
“I’d never want you to do this alone.”
When the Arnolds came into the room, Sam and Nick stood to greet them. Mrs. Arnold hugged them both and Mr. Arnold shook hands with Nick and hugged Sam. Their eyes were rimmed with red, their heartbreak palpable.
“Thank you so much for coming,” he said. “I know how busy you both are.”
“I want to say how sorry we are, all of us within the MPD, for your loss,” Sam said. “Our entire squad is heartbroken.”
“A.J. loved you guys,” Mrs. Arnold said. “He spoke so highly of you, Lieutenant, and you, too, Mr. Vice President.”
“Please call me Nick. We thought the world of your son. He was not only a colleague to Sam, but a friend to both of us, and we’ll miss him very much.”
“That’s so kind of you to say.” She wiped away tears. “We were proud of him.”
“With good reason,” Sam said. “He was very well regarded within the department.”
“He loved that job,” Mr. Arnold said. “Loved the squad, working with you, partnering with Tommy. He loved it all. We take comfort in knowing he died doing the work he loved.”
“We’re concerned about Tommy,” Mrs. Arnold said. “He’s in bad shape over this.”
“We’ll be keeping an eye on him,” Sam assured her. “Don’t worry.”
“It would be an honor if you might say a few words about A.J. at his service,” Mrs. Arnold said.
“Of course,” Sam said, though the thought of speaking in front of all those people gave her hives. “It’s an honor to be asked.”
“Is there any news about the investigation?” Mrs. Arnold asked.
“Nothing yet, but we’re working it from every angle. The FBI and U.S. Marshal Service are involved in the manhunt for the shooter. As soon as we have anything to report, I’ll make sure you’re informed.”
“We’d appreciate that.”
Sam glanced at Nick. “We don’t want to keep you from your family. Just please know that our hearts and prayers are with you, and anything we can do, please let me know.” She handed her card to Mrs. Arnold. “Anything you need.”
“Thank you. Everyone from the MPD has been so nice, and Detective Tyrone has been a godsend, seeing us through the funeral planning.”
“I’m glad to hear he’s been helpful. You’ve been in touch with Doctor McNamara to see your son?”
“Yes,” Mr. Arnold said. “We’re going in the morning. The family is here now, so we decided it wouldn’t make much difference if we go tomorrow.”
“If you receive inquiries from the news media, we’d ask that you refer them to the department’s public affairs office. Then you won’t have to deal with it.”
“We’ll do that,” Mr. Arnold said as he walked them to the door. “Thank you. And thank you again for coming. Means a lot to us.”
“Your son meant a lot to me,” Sam said. “He won’t be forgotten.”
With more hugs and assurances to be in touch, Sam and Nick were escorted back to the black SUV by his detail.
“They’re amazing,” Nick said. “So composed.”