Chapter Three #2
“May we come in for a minute?” Sam asked.
“Sure,” she said, the word dripping with reluctance.
Here was another neighbor who probably didn’t want to get involved in the tragedy unfolding down the street.
“What can I do for you?” she asked after showing them into one of those fancy rooms wealthy people kept pristine for guests.
“You’re acquainted with the Beauclair family?”
“I am. My children are close in age to the twins. They play together. I was heartbroken to hear about the fire. It’s such an awful tragedy.”
“Yes, it is,” Sam said.
“Are they all…”
“We found two adult victims but haven’t yet positively identified them. We’re still looking for the children.”
Janice’s blue eyes filled with tears.
“How well did you know the Beauclairs?”
“I only knew him socially. He traveled a lot for his business. I knew Cleo quite well. We’re both stay-at-home moms and met at the park about two years ago. Since our kids are around the same ages, we hit it off right away.”
“What do you know about her personally?” Sam asked.
“Just that she was very devoted to her kids and her family.”
“Where is she from originally?”
“I… I don’t know. We never discussed that. We mostly talked about our kids and coordinating rides to activities and things like that.”
“Did you ever get a sense of the Beauclairs’ marriage? Were they happy together?”
“Oh yes. She worshipped the ground Jameson walked on. They were very much in love, or at least they seemed that way to me the few times I saw them together.”
Sam made a note of that.
“Her only complaint was that his business took him away from home too much. She missed him when he was gone. She lit up around him. After a neighborhood Christmas party last year, my husband commented that they’re like newlyweds because they held hands the entire night.”
“Did you know her housekeeper?” Sam consulted her notes. “A woman named Milagros?”
“I’ve met her, yes. I heard they let her go yesterday.”
“Do you know Milagros’s last name or where we might find her?”
“I don’t but let me ask my housekeeper.”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Sam said, “bring her in here when you ask her.”
“Why?” Janice asked, seeming perplexed.
“Because I asked you to.”
She clearly wasn’t used to anyone speaking to her that way, and her displeasure was obvious in the tight set of her lips. “Just a moment.”
“She didn’t like that,” Freddie muttered.
“Too bad. I want to see the housekeeper’s reaction when we ask about Milagros.”
“I know that, and you know that, but she’s pissed you’re telling her how to manage her own staff.”
“Whatever.”
Janice returned with her housekeeper.
“Your name, ma’am?” Sam asked.
She glanced at Janice, who nodded. “Luisa Sanchez.”
“Do you know the Beauclairs’ housekeeper, Milagros?” Sam asked.
Luisa, who had dark hair and pretty brown eyes, nodded. “I know her. They fired her.”
“One of the other neighbors told us that. Do you know where we can find her?”
Luisa looked to Janice again.
“If you know where she is, I need you to tell me,” Sam said.
“Tell her,” Janice said harshly. “Right now.”
“I—I don’t want to get her in trouble. She’s undocumented.”
“I’m not interested in her immigration status. We need to talk to her about what happened to the Beauclairs.”
“She wouldn’t hurt them. She loved them. They hurt her.”
“That’s enough, Luisa,” Janice snapped.
“I need her address,” Sam said.
“I have it in my purse in the laundry room.”
“Hurry up and get it,” Janice said.
Luisa scurried off while Sam, Freddie and Janice coexisted in awkward silence until Janice cleared her throat.
“We don’t want any trouble.”
“I’m sure the Beauclairs didn’t either.” Sam had zero compassion for this privileged, pampered woman who was only worried about herself when her friend and her friend’s husband were most likely dead and their children missing.
Luisa returned with a slip of paper on which she’d written Milagros’s address.
“Thank you,” Sam said. “Please don’t tell her you spoke with us.”
“She won’t,” Janice said. “Is there anything else we can do?”
“Not at this time.” Sam handed her a business card. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant, let me know.”
Janice started to speak but stopped herself.
“Whatever you know,” Sam said, “it’s better for you to tell us now than have us find out later that you held out on us. That can lead to charges.”
Janice swallowed hard. “I’m not sure if it’s relevant.”
“Every detail is relevant at this point in an investigation.”
“I liked Cleo a lot,” she said hesitantly. “She was a lovely person, but I remember telling my husband months after we’d met that I felt like I didn’t know her at all. She didn’t give much away if you know what I mean. We never made it past the surface.”
“That’s interesting.” Sam wrote down the information to stew over later. “Did she have other friends that you knew of?”
“A few of the other neighborhood moms.” She listed names that Sam had already gotten from Lauren. “She also volunteered at the kids’ school.”
“Did she ever mention being afraid of anything or anyone?”
“Not that I ever heard, but I doubt she would’ve confided in me. She wasn’t like that.”
“Did she have friends she would’ve confided in, that you know of?”
“I can’t think of anyone she was extra close to.”
“Thank you for sharing that. We appreciate your time.”
“I hope it’s okay to say that my husband and I admire you and your husband very much.”
“That’s nice of you,” Sam said, surprised by the change in tone. Perhaps the thought of criminal charges had softened her. “Thank you.”
“We were sort of hoping Nelson would resign.”
“We’re sort of glad it didn’t come to that,” Sam said, deadpan.
Janice laughed. “I’m sure you are. I don’t get why anyone would want that job. It’s somewhat thankless.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You don’t have Secret Service protection?”
Sam shook her head and rested a hand on her service weapon. “I can take care of myself.” At the front door, she turned back to face the other woman. “Thank you again for your help.”
“They were a sweet family. I’m heartbroken that this has happened to them.”
“Call me if you think of anything else.”
“I will.”
Outside, Sam turned to Freddie. “Impressions?”
“We might be spinning our wheels talking to the friends if she kept her relationships at a surface level.”
“Agreed. What I’d like to know is why she did that? In my experience, women overshare more than they undershare.”
“Is undershare a word?” Freddie asked. “It rhymes with underwear.”
“Stop,” she said, cracking up. “I’m being serious here. Women talk about everything. It’s weird that she didn’t.”
“Just to play devil’s advocate… You aren’t like that.”
“I’m talking about regular women, not badass cop women.”
“I see, and I stand corrected. As always, I bow to your wisdom, Lieutenant.”
“Quit your sucking up. Despite your limited experience with women, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Freddie rolled his eyes, as she’d known he would. She loved to razz him about marrying the first woman he’d slept with. He said he preferred quality to quantity. Elin made him happy, which was good enough for Sam.
“What’s next?” he asked as they got in her car.
“A stop at the kids’ school on Connecticut Ave.”
“While we’re in that area, can I pick up my tux?”
“No personal errands on city time,” she said sternly, directing the car toward Connecticut Avenue.
“It’s so close.” He rubbed his always-empty belly. “And it is almost lunchtime.”
“Fine. If you must.”
“It’s the only thing Elin told me to do this week.”
“You guys get off so easily when it comes to weddings. You show up in a monkey suit at the appointed time and get married.”
“You’re tossing around a lot of stereotypes today, Lieutenant. I’ll have you know I was heavily involved in the planning of my wedding.”
“You were not.”
“Yes, I was! I helped decide on everything.”
“From choices she had pared down from thousands of options.”
“You don’t know that.”
Sam gave him a withering look. “About to get married and still so much to learn about women, my young grasshopper. She has been planning this day in her mind since she was old enough to know what a wedding was. You did not help to plan the wedding. You validated choices she’d already made.”
Scowling, he said, “I’m getting married this week. You could take the week off from being mean to me, especially since you’re my best man-woman.”
“How am I being mean?”
“You just are. I helped whenever she asked me to.”
“I’m teasing you. Don’t be oversensitive. It takes the fun out of it.”
“For who?”
“Me, of course.”
“And it’s all about you, even the week of my wedding.”
“Duh.”
He huffed out a laugh. “At least you’re consistent.”
“I pride myself on my consistency and my predictability—most of the time.”
“I still can’t believe Nick made such an insanely cool place available to us to use for our wedding. Elin and I want to pinch ourselves that we get to be married at the Naval Observatory,” he said of the traditional home of the vice president.
“He is rather awesome, and he’s not using it, so it’s all yours.”
“It was so nice of him to offer it,” Freddie said.
“He was thrilled to do it. It’s a beautiful spot for a wedding.”
“It certainly is. We couldn’t be happier about it. I feel like Saturday is never going to get here.”
“It’ll be here before you know it.”