Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
T he motorcade pulled up to the colorful facade of Cecil Elementary School on Cecil Avenue. The K-5 school had more than three hundred students, and it seemed most of them were outside waiting to greet him with Welcome President Cappuano signs and balloons. The Secret Service had been there weeks ago to scout the location. Every person attending, even the children, had been fully vetted.
When he spotted his dark-haired brothers, wearing navy blue suits and matching ties, their hair slicked into submission, his bad mood immediately lifted. The rest of the kids wore yellow polo shirts with a logo on them with blue pants or skirts.
Smiling, he emerged from the back of the limo and received hugs from Brock and Brayden. “You guys look like future presidents.”
“We do?” Brayden asked, his little face wild with excitement.
“Definitely.”
While Nick’s detail cleared a path through the crowd, his brothers took his hands and led him into their school. He spotted his dad and Stacy off to the side and smiled at them as they waved. Being the president sucked much of the time, but this was fun, and he intended to fully enjoy whatever they had planned for him.
He shook hands with the principal and met the mayor and several of the city’s school committee members, all of whom told him how honored they were to have him visit.
The boys led him on a tour of the school, pointing out their second-grade classrooms as well as the cafeteria and library before they ended up in the gym, where a stage had been erected at the far end and covered in presidential bunting.
Nick recognized members of the White House Press Corps mixed in with local TV reporters standing next to cameras in the back of the room. Maybe the good publicity from this event would offset some of the Joint Chiefs madness.
“Do you like it?” Brock asked of the setup.
“It’s awesome. Did you guys decorate the stage?”
“With some help from the teachers, Mom and Dad. We bought the… What’s it called again, Brayden?”
“ Bunting .” Brayden giggled. “He can never remember that word.”
Brock shrugged sheepishly. “We had to buy it online because it’s only available in stores for the Fourth of July.”
“We have to wait here,” Brayden said. “The band is going to play a song for you.”
Sure enough, the school band launched into a choppy version of “Hail to the Chief.”
“That’s your song!” Brock said.
“Sure is,” Nick said, charmed by the effort put forth by the band.
“Let’s go,” Brayden said as each of them took him by the hand again to lead him down the center aisle between rows of chairs to the stage, where three chairs had been positioned. The student body, teachers, staff and guests clapped as they entered.
“You sit in the middle, Nick,” Brock said .
“We’re supposed to call him Mr. President ,” Brayden reminded his twin.
“Oh, sorry.”
“You should call me Nick. Always.”
Brock gave Brayden a smug smile.
The three of them were handed microphones by a man wearing a yellow school polo shirt.
“We flipped a coin to see who got to introduce you, and I won,” Brock said.
“Let’s get this party started,” Nick said.
“Hello,” Brock said into the microphone. When the crowd went silent, he said, “My name is Brock Cappuano, and this is my brother Brayden and our other brother Nick, who’s the president of the United States. He says we’re supposed to call him Nick, but you have to call him Mr. President.”
It was all Nick could do to keep from laughing out loud.
“Mr. President,” the principal, Mrs. Montrose, said into another microphone, “we’re delighted to welcome you to Cecil Elementary. On behalf of the mayor, superintendent and school committee, as well as the entire staff and student body, we’re honored to have you as our guest. Brayden and Brock are so excited to have their brother the president visit our school. They’ve requested questions from other students over the last week and they will be our moderators today. I turn it over to them.”
The audience gave the principal a warm round of applause.
“Nick,” Brock said, “thank you for coming to our school today. We’re so excited to have you here.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
“We have a bunch of questions that were submitted to us, so is it okay if we start asking them?” Brayden said.
“Ask away.”
“The first one is from Henry, who’s in fourth grade. He wants to know if it’s fun to be president. ”
Nick wanted to laugh out loud and say, No, it sucks balls, but of course he couldn’t say that. “Where’s Henry?”
The boy stood and waved, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hey, Henry. Thanks for the question. It’s a lot of fun in some ways. I get to ride on the Marine One helicopter and Air Force One , which is the president’s own airplane, and in the limousine we call The Beast. My family and I get to live in the White House, where the amazing staff take very good care of us. There’s a pool and bowling alley in the White House that my kids love, so yes, it can be fun. But it’s also a lot of responsibility to keep our country safe and everything working the way it should be.”
“Teegan, a first grader, wants to know if Skippy the dog likes the White House,” Brock said.
“Where’s Teegan? Hi, Teegan. Skippy loves the White House. She thinks she owns the place.”
Lots of giggling followed that statement.
“She’s made friends with the staff, and they keep her in dog treats. My son, Scotty, is supposed to keep track of her, but she doesn’t like being supervised. She likes to visit the kitchen, where there’s always something for her to snack on, and the flower shop. And did you know she has five million followers on Instagram? How many of you have seen her pictures there?”
Lots of hands went up.
“Kevin, a third grader, had another question about Skippy. Has she gotten into trouble or bitten anyone?”
“Where’s Kevin? Hi there. Well, thankfully, Skippy hasn’t bitten anyone except for us when we’re playing with her, and the only trouble she gets into is wandering around the White House like she’s the president.”
He loved the sound of children laughing.
“Cali, a second grader, wants to know if it’s hard being president.”
“Hi, Cali.” By now, the kids were standing up to wave at him when their names were mentioned. “Some days, it’s hard being president. You have to make decisions that affect other people’s lives, and sometimes, the best decision for the country makes people mad at the president. But I’ve learned that I’ll never make everyone happy, so I have to do what I think is best for most of us.”
For another hour, he answered questions about the White House, the Oval Office and what it was like to live in the most famous house in the world.
“We’re going to have to wrap it up,” Mrs. Montrose said. “The president has other commitments today, but what do we say to him for coming to see us today?”
A roar of applause and “thank yous” came from the children as Nick stood to hug his brothers and wave to the other kids. “Thank you for having me and for all the great questions.”
In the back of the room, several of the parents gave him a thumbs-down as he made his way off the stage, which shouldn’t have surprised him but did anyway. At least they hadn’t made a scene in front of their kids. He’d learned to be thankful for small favors.
After posing for pictures with each class, he received hugs from his dad and Stacy.
“That was amazing,” Leo Cappuano said. He was an older version of Nick, with gray hair at his temples. “The boys couldn’t have been more excited.”
“I don’t think either of them slept last night,” Stacy added.
“They looked so cute in their suits.”
“Thank you for making the time,” Stacy said. “They’ll never forget this.”
“Neither will I. It’s the most fun I’ve had since the big promotion.”
They laughed at how he described his ascension to the presidency.
“What’ve you got going on for the rest of the day?” Leo asked .
“Lunch with the governor and the Baltimore mayor, followed by a fundraiser later in the day.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Does it, though?”
Leo laughed and then immediately sobered. “We were sorry to hear about your colleague Juan.”
“Thank you. It’s been tough. He was a great young man.”
Brant appeared by his side. “Mr. President, we’re ready for you outside.”
“Duty calls.” Nick hugged his dad and Stacy again. “We’re going to Camp David for Easter weekend if you and the boys would like to join us.”
“They’d love that,” Leo said. “We’ll make it happen.”
“I’ll be in touch with the details.”
“Very proud of you, Nicky,” Leo said gruffly. “My son, the president. It’s unreal.”
Nick gave his dad another quick hug. “To me as well, but thank you. That means a lot to me.”
His father’s words filled his heart as the agents hustled him out of the school and into The Beast. After a chaotic childhood in which his parents had played infrequent roles, having his dad in his life and hearing he was proud of him went a long way with Nick, especially after the recent uncomfortable encounter with his deadbeat mother.
Even though he’d told her to get lost, he was quite certain he hadn’t heard the last of her.
The chief called while Sam wason the way to HQ. “Morning.”
“Morning. I received a call this morning from an Agent Truver with NCIS. I believe you’ve met her.”
“That’s right. What’d she want?”
“To ask us to stand down on our investigation into Juan Rodriguez’s murder. ”
“Did she say why? Just yesterday, she wanted our help.”
“She didn’t say why, and when I asked, she said the investigation is now classified and under the auspices of the United States Navy.”
“Huh. Well, that helps.” Sam was careful what she said on a phone line that could be subpoenaed.
“My thought exactly.”
“If only something about this didn’t stink to high heaven.”
“Also my thought.”
“What do you want me to do?” Sam asked.
“Let’s keep a low-level eye on what’s happening with the investigation, but back off. We’ve got plenty to keep us busy.”
“Agreed. We’ll focus on the Myerson case we caught last night and wait to hear more from NCIS.”
“Sounds good. Keep me posted on anything you hear about the Rodriguez case. We don’t want to be caught flat-footed on that.”
“Will do.”
“What’d you decide about Nick?”
“I followed your advice, and he agreed.”
“Had a feeling he would.”
“Thank you, as always, for the advice and support.”
“You got it.”
As she closed her phone, Sam was relieved to be rid of the fake investigation. The chief was right. Nothing good would come from that for any of them. She hoped NCIS would quickly close their investigation and reunite Juan with his loved ones so she could come clean to her colleagues and friends.
She withdrew the secure BlackBerry from her coat pocket to text Nick. How’d it go at the school?
He replied a few minutes later. Amazing. The boys were so cute in their suits and slicked-back hair, bouncing with excitement. Lots of fun.
So glad it went well. Having a much better day today so far working on the case of a woman found dead in her house and nothing else.
She chose her wording carefully so there would be no way the text could be used against them in the future.
Good luck with the new case. Glad to hear you can focus just on that.
Which meant he understood what she was telling him. See you when you get home. Love you.
Love you, too. Be careful out there.
Always.
He would be relieved to know she wasn’t working on the fake case anymore, but they still needed answers about who’d wanted Juan dead in the first place.
BTW, he texted, I talked to Elijah, and he’s down with your plan. Talking to Andy about it shortly. More to come.
Trying not to get my hopes up.
Right there with you, babe. Remember, the law is on our side. I have to believe it’ll be okay.
I really hope so.
The twins and Elijah had completed their family. Neither of them wanted to imagine life without the children they’d grown to love as if they’d been with them all their lives, even though it had been only six months. Sam couldn’t consider the possibility of losing them without derailing her entire day.
Instead, she focused on the upcoming Easter holiday when she texted her eldest sister, Tracy. Nick wants to go to Camp David for Easter. Angela won’t want to do that—hell, I don’t want to—so can you do something with them that day?
Tracy wrote back a few minutes later. I’ve got it covered. Go have some time with your fam. We’re all looking forward to the egg roll on Monday.
What did it say about Sam that she hadn’t had a single thought about the egg roll, but her sisters and their children were looking forward to it? She sucked at being first lady. That’s what it said .
Do the kids need clothes for Easter? Tracy asked.
And she sucked at being a mother. I don’t know. Do they?
YES, SAM! LOL! I gotcha. I’ll do Easter baskets, too.
What would I do without you?
You’ll never have to find out. I get to go shopping with YOUR credit card. Best day ever!
LOL, have a blast.
Oh, I will. I might even get something nice for you to wear, too.
Thank you so much for everything. I love you.
LY2
What would she do without her sisters, mother and stepmother, friends, devoted White House staffers and coworkers? Thankfully, she was surrounded by the most incredibly supportive group of people in the world.
Speaking of being supportive, she texted Shelby to check on Avery and the new baby.
Avery is cranky and sick of being sidelined, and Ms. Maisie Rae is delightful. Noah is crazy about his baby sister. We’re hoping to move into our new place as soon as next week.
There’s no rush on that. Take your time. You’ve got enough going on. We’re doing Easter at Camp David if you want to come.
We might do that. My parents are going to my sister’s, and I wasn’t up for a mob scene, so I told them we’d sit it out.
Can’t promise peace and quiet at camp, but you’ll have your own cabin and amazing staff to take care of you.
That sounds perfect to me! Count us in.
Nick is traveling this week. Let’s do dinner one night.
Yes, please. We’ll babysit you while he’s gone.
Someone’s gotta.
HAHAHAHAHA.
When she arrived at HQ, she waved to Lindsey on the way past the morgue. Normally, she’d stop for a quick chat, but the guilt of lying to her friend had her rushing by to get to the pit, where more friends who’d been lied to waited for her. It was funny to think about how often she’d lied effortlessly to her parents as a teenager and never felt an ounce of guilt. Most of the time, her dad had been on to her, but she’d still managed to get away with a lot as the daughter of a savvy police officer.
Lying wasn’t as much fun as a responsible adult in charge of people who not only liked her but respected her—and vice versa. Respect was hard-earned in her world, and it pained her to do anything to jeopardize that among the people she worked closest with.
Her pit was hopping when she arrived. “Morning, people. Everyone in the conference room in five for updates.”
She unlocked her office to drop off her jacket, and as she turned to head for the conference room, Dr. Anthony Trulo, the department psychiatrist, appeared in her doorway, startling her.
“Sorry,” he said with a grin. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No problem. What’s up?”
“Checking in about grief group tomorrow night. Are you able to attend?”
“I should be able to stop in for a minute.” With Nick leaving the next day, she wouldn’t linger.
“It means a lot to the group to see you.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Thank you. Everything good with you?”
“As good as it ever is these days.”
“You’re holding up?”
“Doing my best.” She hesitated before she added, “The twins’ grandparents are making noise about custody again. It’s stressful, to say the least.”
He winced. “I’m sure it is, but you’ve got the law on your side. The parents were very clear about what they wanted.”
“Did they want those precious babies living in the White House with Secret Service agents surrounding them and the eyes of the world on them?”
“Maybe not, but their brother knows they’re very well loved in their home, and that’s what is most important to him. I’m sure their parents would agree.”
“I hope so.”
“You know where I am if you need me.”
“Always, and that’s a source of great comfort to me.”
He smiled. “I’ll let you get to work. See you tomorrow night, if not before.”
“See you then. Thanks for checking in and for the words of wisdom.”
“Any time, my friend.”
Sam took a second to get her emotions over the situation with the twins in check so she could focus on the task at hand—getting justice for Elaine Myerson.
She went to the conference room, where the rest of her team was gathered around two new murder boards—one for Juan and the other for Elaine. “Update on Rodriguez,” she said after she took her place at the head of the table. “NCIS has called us off for now.”
“Can they do that?” Gonzo asked. “We have jurisdiction.”
“Understood, but they’ve made a case to the chief, and he’s agreed with their position.”
Lindsey came into the room, wearing a stormy expression. “Are you talking about the Rodriguez case?”
“Yes, I was telling the team that NCIS has asked us to back off, and the chief agreed.”
“Maybe you can tell me why Juan Rodriguez’s mother called to tell me that the photo she requested of the body in my morgue is not her son.”
Oh shit. “Could we have the room, please?”
Sam waited until her team had left, closing the door behind them.
“What the fuck , Sam?”
She’d never seen Lindsey look so furious, and her anger made Sam feel sick. “The NCIS agent-in-charge came here yesterday and asked me to go with her. She made me swear to keep our meeting entirely confidential and to confirm that the body was that of Juan Rodriguez. They said it was a national security situation and they needed my assistance.”
“You gave me a false ID?”
“I did. And I feel awful about it, but they were adamant that no one know that Juan is alive. They said their investigation hinges on their targets believing he’s dead.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I wish I was. NCIS is deep into an investigation involving the former Joint Chiefs of Staff and their plot to overthrow Nick’s administration. Juan was the one who tipped Nick off to the plan, and he apparently has been followed ever since, to the point that NCIS decided to stage his disappearance and murder to get their subjects pointing the finger at each other. Or something like that.”
“His mother is devastated. How could he do this to her?”
“He certainly didn’t want to, but they said it had to be believable. They asked us to run the investigation the way we always do, and after I consulted with the chief, we decided to give them some leeway.”
“By lying to me and the rest of your team?”
“What was I supposed to do, Lindsey? They said it was an imperative national security situation.”
“I want Mrs. Rodriguez told— immediately —that her son is alive, or I’ll tell her. And P.S., who the hell is that in my morgue?”
“He’s a service member who closely resembled Juan. He was killed in a motorcycle accident over the weekend.”
“This is diabolical! I honestly can’t believe you went along with it.”
“Again, I’ll ask you, what was I supposed to do? They brought me in because of my dual roles as the Homicide commander and first lady and because Juan said he wouldn’t go through with it unless I knew the truth. I’d already agreed to keep their secret when they revealed to me that Juan is alive. They put me in a very difficult position.”
“You could’ve told me the truth. I wouldn’t have breathed a word of it to anyone.”
Sam felt sick to her stomach. “I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you.”
“Yes, you really should have, because now I have to wonder if I can trust you . Mrs. Rodriguez will be told the truth within thirty minutes, or she’ll hear it from me.”
Lindsey stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her, rattling Sam’s nerves even further. She found the contact info for Agent Truver in her notebook, and as she dialed the number, she realized her hands were shaking.
“Truver.”
“This is Sam Holland. We have a problem.”