Chapter Five
Sam held her tongue until they were in their conference room at HQ with the door closed. Not that she didn’t fully trust Vernon and Jimmy to be discreet, but she wasn’t about to go off on the AG in front of them. “Was that the biggest sack of bullshit we’ve ever been fed or what?”
“The biggest sack for sure,” Freddie said. “Not to mention he was smug and patronizing.”
“All of that. This makes me more determined than ever to keep the Feds far away from this investigation. He’s hiding something, and I want to know what.”
“I hate to point out that could get sticky in light of your domestic situation.”
“My domestic situation.” Sam snorted out a laugh. “Do you mean because my husband, the president, is his boss?”
“Something like that.”
“You’d think the AG would be extra helpful in light of that detail.”
“You’d be wrong about that. Will you tell Nick how he treated us?”
Sam pondered the question for a second. “Probably not. He’d want to do something about it, which he absolutely shouldn’t do.”
“That’s true. So what now?”
“I need to think about that.”
She took a call from Archie. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Are you in the building?”
“In our conference room.”
“Be right down.”
She closed her phone. “Archie’s coming down. Let’s hope he’s found us a thread to pull.”
Archie came in a few minutes later. “I have good news and bad news. What do you want first?”
“Give me the bad,” Sam said.
“Forrester’s work phone is encrypted. I can’t get anything off it.”
“Fuck.”
“Had a feeling you might say that.” He placed an evidence bag containing the phone on the table. “The Feds might be able to get in.”
“What’s the good news?”
“On the personal phone, I found an ongoing dispute between Forrester and his neighbor that’d escalated in recent months.”
“What kind of dispute?”
“The neighbor raises Dobermans. Apparently, they’ve escaped at times and ended up in Forrester’s yard. One of them tangled with Forrester’s Cavapoo. The dog required surgery that cost thousands of dollars. Forrester was suing the neighbor and had complained about the guy to Animal Control numerous times. The neighbor recently countersued.” Archie placed a stack of pages on the table. “I printed the two suits for you.”
“What the hell is a Cavapoo?” Sam asked.
“I knew you’d ask that.” Archie put a photo of a white fluffy dog on the table. “A cross between a poodle and a Cavalier King Charles spaniel.”
Sam winced. “Poor little thing wouldn’t stand a chance against a Doberman.”
“Exactly. The vet bill to save the dog was more than five grand.”
“Holy shit,” Freddie said.
“I wonder why Leslie Forrester didn’t mention this when we spoke to her,” Sam said.
“Probably because that’s the least of her concerns at the moment,” Freddie replied.
“I suppose so. Thanks, Archie. This gives us a thread anyway.”
“You got it. We’re still working on texts and emails, as well as film in the area where Tom’s body was found. More to come.”
After Archie left, Freddie stood to stretch. “Do you really think the neighbor would be stupid enough to off a U.S. Attorney over a dog dispute?”
“We’ve seen dumber things, but I’m not getting a buzz over this angle. How could his murder not be related to his work and Bryant holding his family hostage?”
“It has to be related to that,” Freddie said.
“I want to look into the history between Cox and Forrester. Something about the way Cox acted earlier was off. I want to know why.”
“I’ll take a dive into that from home tonight.”
Sam glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost seven thirty. “Go ahead home. Let’s pick this up at zero seven hundred.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Put out a note to our squad, as well as Lucas, Harper and Coheeny, to be here by seven.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks for working on Sunday.”
“No problem.”
“Sure it was, but I appreciate it anyway.”
“It’s good to have you back. Not as much fun without you.”
“Aw, thanks, grasshopper. I missed you, too.”
Carlucci and Dominguez were arriving as she prepared to leave. Sam took the detectives into the conference room to bring them up to speed.
“Archie is working the digital footprint, and here are the texts from Forrester’s personal phone that you can wade through. I want financials on all the key players, including Cox.”
“The AG?” Dominguez asked.
“Yep, as well as Forrester and Bryant.”
“We have Bryant’s financials already,” Carlucci said. “I’ll go through them again.”
“Thanks for coming in.”
“No problem.”
Before she left HQ, Sam texted Avery. Are you guys still up? I could use a couple of min when I get home and would love to see Shelby baby if this is a good time.
We’re up. Will be for a while. Our little girl is a night owl.
Haha. See you soon.
Sam took the evidence bag containing Forrester’s work phone with her when she headed to her office to get her coat. She would deliver the phone to Avery at home.
Asking the Feds for help was always a last resort, but in situations like this, it was foolish to pretend the FBI didn’t have capabilities that were simply not available to her and her team.
She texted Vernon that she was on her way out and headed for the morgue exit.
Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Lindsey McNamara was coming out as Sam approached the automatic doors for the morgue. “I sent the autopsy report to your email a few minutes ago. It was a pretty straightforward case of a nine-millimeter bullet to the head. I’ve sent the bullet to the lab for further analysis. The tox screen will take a while longer, but there were no other significant findings.”
“Thanks for the quick work. How’re you feeling?”
“After an earlier burst of energy, I’m dragging. Whatever it is, I can’t seem to shake it.”
“Hate to hear that. Anything I can do?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine.
Sam couldn’t help but notice that her friend was much paler than usual. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will, thanks. It’s good to have you back.”
“I wish I could say it’s good to be back…”
Lindsey offered a small smile. “Believe me. I get it.”
“And I’m always so thankful for that.”
“Are you still borrowing my morgue for a dress fitting tomorrow?”
Sam cringed when she recalled asking Lindsey to use her office. “That’s the plan.”
“That’ll be a first,” Lindsey said with a smile.
“Appreciate the help at keeping it on the DL.”
“My morgue is your morgue.”
“See you in the morning.”
“I’ll be here.”
When Sam stepped out into the late winter chill, Vernon opened the door and waited for her to get settled.
“Thank you, Vernon.”
“My pleasure.”
The interior of the SUV was warm and toasty as Sam settled in for the ride home.
“How’s it going?”
Sam met Vernon’s gaze in the mirror. “Slow.”
“Are you thinking it’s tied to Bryant?”
“How can it not be?”
“That’s what we were saying, too.”
“While that seems the most obvious, I’ve learned to look beyond the obvious.” After a pause, she added, “The case that brought the twins into our lives is a good example. Their billionaire father was embroiled in a dispute with his former business partner, which had sent him and his family into exile with new identities. After the parents were killed in a home invasion and fire, we looked hard at the partner, but we couldn’t make a case. Turned out a traffic altercation involving the wife led to murder.”
“I remember that case. Jameson and Cleo Armstrong, right?”
“That’s the one. At the beginning of that investigation, if you’d asked me to bet my life the partner wasn’t involved, I’d be dead.”
“We’re all glad you’re not dead, ma’am,” Jimmy said.
“Haha, thanks. My point is we have to look at everything, not just the most obvious things.”
“Agreed,” Vernon said. “Especially in a situation like this one where you’ll be under enormous pressure to get answers quickly.”
“Yes, exactly. Thankfully, Captain Malone took care of updating the media earlier, so I didn’t have to do that today. I’ll be in the hot seat before long, though.”
“What time are we leaving in the morning?” Vernon asked as they drove through the White House gates.
“Six thirty.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“Thank you for working late on a Sunday.”
“No problem.”
When she entered the White House, Harold, one of her favorite ushers, greeted her with a warm smile. “Evening, Mrs. Cappuano.”
“Evening, Harold. Is the president upstairs?”
“He is, ma’am.”
“Thank you. Have a nice night.”
“You do the same, ma’am.”
Sam trudged up the red-carpeted stairs, feeling far more exhausted than she should have been after a week-long vacation. But the so-called vacation had been filled with far more drama than they’d anticipated, making it much less restful than it could’ve been.
She looked in on the sleeping twins and then on Scotty, who was watching a Caps game. “Who’s winning?”
“Caps are up by two in the third.”
“How’s the book?”
He gave her a withering look. “It’s horrible. Worst thing I’ve ever been forced to read.”
Sam sat on the edge of his bed and scratched behind Skippy’s ears, making the puppy sigh in her sleep. “I remember having to read stuff that just didn’t interest me and how painful it was.” Especially with undiagnosed dyslexia. Those were some seriously unfun years.
“‘Painful’ is a good word for it.”
“I’ll get that study guide for you right away.”
“You’re the best. Thank you.”
“Anything for you, kid.” She leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“This book will put me to sleep in no time.”
Smiling, she said, “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She went into the suite she shared with Nick to find him tucked away in the small office attached to their bedroom. Each night, he drafted handwritten responses to ten letters from citizens in addition to reviewing the massive briefing books he brought “home” from the office.
Sam cleared her throat so she wouldn’t startle him.
Prior to him becoming vice president, she would’ve snuck up on him and taken great pleasure in scaring him. That wasn’t as much fun now that he lived with endless threats to his life.
He turned to her, smiling. “There’s my favorite wife. I was just about to check on you.”
“Here I am.”
“How’d it go?”
“A lot of wheel-spinning so far.”
“I heard you might’ve interviewed my AG.”
“You heard correctly.”
“How’d that go?”
Sam thought about how she should answer that question. “I think it’s best if we don’t talk about that.”
“How come?”
“Because he works for you, and he’s part of my investigation. If we’re ever asked, it’d be better to say we never discussed it.”
“Are you becoming a political wife right before my very eyes?”
Sam scoffed. “Hardly.”
He stood and came to her, putting his hands on her hips. “It’s kinda hot when you anticipate political concerns.”
“You think everything I do is hot.”
“That’s very true.” He nuzzled her neck, which had her leaning into him. “Today was a long day without you after spending most of a week together.”
“For me, too. As much as I love my job—most of the time, anyway—I find myself thinking more often lately about what it will be like to be, um, retired someday.”
His head whipped up, eyes gone wide with shock.
She laughed at his reaction. “Oh, shut up. I’m not saying any time soon. Just someday. In the far-off future when we don’t have a million things competing for our attention all the time.”
“I can’t wait for that day.”
“I would say me either, but I don’t want you thinking I mean soon.”
“Gotcha. But it’s something to look forward to.”
“For sure.”
“Until that far-off state of nirvana, we have the Canadian state visit to contend with this week, as well as the meeting with my mother on Friday.”
Sam frowned when she thought about meeting with his mother—voluntarily. Nicoletta had requested the opportunity to speak with them, hoping to make things right. In Sam’s mind, that wasn’t possible, but it wasn’t up to her. Nick was curious about what she had to say, so they would take the meeting at their home on Ninth Street. Sam drew the line at having the woman to the White House, which she suspected was Nicoletta’s ultimate goal.
“I’ll be ready for all of it. I have a fitting with Marcus tomorrow afternoon. He’s coming to HQ, and Lindsey is loaning me the morgue so no one will see it.”
“Not sure how I feel about my first lady having a dress fitting in the morgue.”
Sam laughed. “It does sound funny when you put it that way.” She rested in the comfort of his embrace for another minute. “I need to run up to talk to Avery and see Shelby for a few minutes. Are you almost done?”
“I need another half hour.”
“Meet you back here in thirty?”
He kissed her. “It’s a date.”
She went upstairs to the third floor to knock softly on Shelby and Avery’s door.
Avery answered, looking tired but happy. “Come in.”
“How goes it in baby central?”
“Busy and exhausting, but great, too.”
Sam held up the evidence bag. “This is Forrester’s encrypted work phone. Anything you can do with it?”
“I’ll deliver it to our lab.”
Sam handed it to him. “Obviously, time is of the essence.”
“I understand. I’ll put a rush on it.”
“Thank you.”
“Heard you interviewed the AG.”
“Was it on the news or something?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Is that a rhetorical question? When the first lady, in her capacity as a homicide detective, interviews the U.S. AG after the murder of a USA, that tends to make the news.”
“Why does that have to be news?”
Avery laughed a little harder this time. “Is that a rhetorical question?”
“I’m just doing my job. Why does everything I do have to make the goddamned news?”
“As we stand in your residence at the White House, you can ask that?”
“Shut up. You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“I am.” He wiped away laughter tears that irritated her.
“Where’s your wife? I like her better than you.”
Chuckling, Avery gestured for Sam to lead the way into their suite.