Chapter Eight #2
“I understand it’s a surprise, but I’ve been coming to the decision for quite some time now, and I thought it was only fair to give the DNC and other potential candidates as much time as possible to make their plans.”
“You have to know many people believe you would’ve walked right into this office if you wanted it.”
“I don’t know about that, but the truth of the matter is I don’t want it.”
“Because of me, right? Because of what happened with Christopher and Tara.” His son had resorted to murder to try to discredit Nick—and Sam by extension—to feed his own political ambitions. “I ruined it for you, didn’t I?”
“Those were difficult situations, to be sure, but the truth of it is in the statement. It’s because of Sam and the kids.
My older son will be in high school and college over the next eight years.
Surrounding him with Secret Service during those years is a big ask, and it’s not what I want for him.
The twins have recently lost their parents, and we’re doing our best to give them a stable, loving home.
How do I do that when I’m gone more than I’m home? ”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. Your kids will grow up fast, and you won’t want to have regrets.”
“I already missed the first eleven years of Scotty’s life. I don’t want to miss anything else.”
Nelson handed the statement back to Nick. “I appreciate the heads-up.”
“Of course, Mr. President.”
“What’ll you do with yourself professionally after we leave office?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ve got three years to figure it out.”
“You’ll be overrun with more offers than you can handle.”
“I guess we’ll see what happens.” Nick stood to leave. “I appreciate your time.”
Nelson stood to shake his hand. “I appreciate yours. Let’s put a lunch on the books to go over plans for the next few months. I’ve got a few things coming up I’d like you to be involved in.”
He would believe that when he saw it since Nelson rarely included him in anything major, even after promising he would. “Sounds good. Have a good day, Mr. President.”
“You do the same.”
Nick returned to his suite, knocked on Trevor’s door and handed the statement to him. “Green light to release it. Just wait until about three o’clock, if you would. I have something I need to do at one, and I don’t want this to be a distraction.”
“I’ll take care of it, Mr. Vice President, and for what it’s worth, I understand why you’re doing this, but I’m sorry we won’t work together anymore after we finish this term.”
“I’m sure we’ll still work together in some form or another, Trevor.”
“I hope so, sir.”
Terry came to the door. “You’ve broken my father’s heart.”
“I know. I feel bad about that.”
“He’ll get over it. He understands. We all do. We see how happy Sam and your family make you. I wouldn’t want to be away from Lindsey either. It’s all good.”
“I’m sure we’ll find something else to do when we leave office that’ll allow us to keep working together,” Nick said.
“That’d be nice. Brant asked me to tell you he’s worked it out to leave for your one o’clock at twelve forty-five.”
“Excellent,” Nick said, relishing the plan for a showdown with the rude reporter and relieved to have shared his decision with the people closest to him.
Ginny’s cousin Alison Enders worked at an upscale interior design company off 118 in Germantown. She had dark hair cut into a bob, sharp hazel eyes and wore a navy power suit with sky-high heels. Sam loved a good shoe but drew the line at anything higher than three inches out of self-preservation.
Sam followed Alison to the offices at the back of the showroom.
“I didn’t kill her,” Alison said the second the door closed behind Freddie. “But I’m not surprised someone did. A lot of people were devasted by her scheme.”
Every word reverberated with barely contained rage.
“We grew up together, had sleepovers, double dates and vacations. We raised our children together, called ourselves ‘best cousins.’” She sniffed out a huff of disdain.
“And then she ruined everything by stealing from me.” Gesturing for Sam and Freddie to sit in her visitor chairs, Alison sat behind a desk stacked with file folders, fabric samples and paint chips.
“Can you tell me how she sold you on the investment opportunity?”
“My husband, Tom, and I were on vacation with her and Ken. It was a trip we took every year to the Caribbean to get away from the winter blahs, as we called them. She was on the phone a lot, and when I asked her why, she told me she was working on the most exciting project of her career. It was a restored mill in a hot part of Gaithersburg that she was going to renovate and turn into condos and retail. When she talked about it, her eyes glittered with contagious excitement. In hindsight, I realize that was all part of the scam. Spread the excitement, get others excited and then separate them from their money.”
“How much did you give her?”
“Three hundred thousand,” she said on a deep sigh.
Sam nearly swallowed her tongue. Who had that kind of money sitting around? “When did you realize it was a scam?”
“I was slow on the uptake because it never occurred to me that my own cousin would steal from me. Tom started getting worried about it a few months after we gave her the money, when there was no information about the development or what was happening. He started texting her every day for updates, and for a while, she responded with enough info to keep him pacified. But after a few weeks of daily requests for info, she stopped responding to him—and to me when I’d text her. ”
“And that was unusual?”
“Very. Ginny wasn’t only my cousin, she was one of my closest friends all my life. We talked almost every day, even when we were in college in different states. Long after everything that’s come to light, it’s still inconceivable.”
“When was the last time you saw her or talked to her?”
“I was at her arraignment.”
“Did you speak to her that day?”
“I did not. I hadn’t spoken to her since the day before she was charged, when I called her.”
“And what did you talk about that day?”
“I told her there was still time to make this right, to give back the money. She said it was all a big misunderstanding and not to worry, that the money was safe.”
“Was it?”
“I have no idea. We think there might be some stashed in offshore accounts, though we’ve been unsuccessful thus far in finding any such accounts. And that’s assuming she didn’t spend it all. As Tom said, do you know what kind of effort it’d take to spend twenty million dollars?”
“Did you receive an accounting of what it was used for?”
“Vacations, cars, clothes, jewels, college tuition for their daughter, luxury cars for the kids, an Alaskan cruise for Ginny’s parents, the list goes on and on. But it wasn’t close to the full amount.”
“Do you have any theories on who might’ve killed her?”
“Do you want the whole list or the top five hundred most likely culprits?”
Sam appreciated sarcasm as much as the next person. “Our list of people with motive is incredibly long. We’re trying to narrow it down. If there’s anything that stands out in your mind as concerning, that would help.”
“I understand and appreciate that your job is figuring out who killed her. You’ll also understand that I don’t give a flying fuck who did it. In fact, when I find out who it is, I’d like to buy them a beer to thank them.”
“Were any other members of your family scammed by her?”
“One of Ginny’s brothers, one of my brothers and another cousin were also scammed.
The four of us are filing a civil suit against her estate, which is another way we hope to recoup some of what we’ve lost. But that’s going to take years.
So rather than anticipating retirement, we’re looking at many more years of work unless we get lucky with the lawsuit.
That’s what she’s condemned us to. And personally, I hope she’s roasting in hell today.
It’d be the least of what she deserves.”
“Do you believe Ken or her children knew anything about what she was doing?”
“I’ve gone round and round about that, asking myself how could they not know. But she was good at hiding the truth, so I honestly don’t know.”
“Can you tell me where I could find her children?”
“Her daughter, Mandi, is a senior at Catholic University, and her son. Ken Jr., works in the defense community. I’m not sure where, but Ken Sr. would know.”
“That helps. Thank you.” As always, Sam handed over her card. “If you think of anything else we should know, please give me a call.”
Alison took the card.
“Have you heard anything about funeral arrangements?” Sam asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not going, so it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Thank you for your time. We’ll see ourselves out.”
When they were outside, Sam blew out a frustrated breath. “I hate this woman, and I hate this case.”
“Right there with you. It’s hard to be empathetic toward someone who’d rip off the people closest to her. I almost want her killer to get away with it.”
“So do I, but we can’t say that to anyone else. Ever.”
“Understood. What’s our next move?”
“After I meet Nick for the nooner, let’s find Ginny’s daughter at Catholic and find out what she knew and when she knew it. See if you can figure out where she is on campus.”
As they got into the car, he said, “I’ll do that if we can stop calling the meeting with Nick a nooner.”
“You’ll do it because I told you to, and anytime I get to see my sexy husband in the middle of the day, it’s a nooner. End of conversation.”
“It’s not the end of the conversation. I have rights in this relationship.”
“No, you don’t, and we’re not in a relationship, you freak.”
“Now you’re resorting to name-calling? I have so much dirt on you that you’d think you’d be nice to me to keep me quiet.”
“I could cut your tongue out with my rusty steak knife. That’d keep you quiet, too.”
He grunted out a laugh. “It always comes back to the steak knife with you, doesn’t it?”
“It does, and you’d be wise to remember that.”