“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

  “That’s Lieutenant Obvious to you, Detective Clueless.”

  “Like you ever let me forget that.” He rang the doorbell outside the association’s main door.

  “Hear that? A regular, normal doorbell that goes ding-dong and lets people know someone is at the door. You don’t need gongs and symphonies and cymbals to get that job done.”

  “I hope your fount of wisdom never runs dry, Lieutenant. I benefit from it every day.”

  “Quit your sucking up and ring it again.”

  “Maybe louder would be better in this case.” Sam looked up to see the building had a second and third floor. She made a fist and pounded on the door. “Police, open up!”

  “Um, can I help you?” a female voice said from behind them.

  As Sam spun around to find a young woman holding a tray with four coffees, it occurred to her that they could’ve been attacked from behind. But then she saw Vernon leaning against the black Secret Service SUV that had followed them to Alexandria and knew he wouldn’t have let that happen.

  “Oh my God. You’re the first lady!”

  “Do you work here?” Sam asked, gesturing to the door.

  “Yes, I do. I went to get coffee.”

  “We need to speak to someone in charge.”

  “Ah, sure. Come in.”

  Sam stepped aside to allow the woman to use her key in the door.

  “What’s this about?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t say.”

  “You investigate murders, right?”

  “I do.”

  She put the tray of coffees on a reception desk. “Has someone been murdered?”

  “Could I please speak to your boss? I need the big boss.”

  “Yes, of course.” The young woman picked up a phone and pressed a button. “Joyce, the, um, first lady is here to talk to you about a murder.”

  Sam wanted to commit murder herself as she glared at the woman, who seemed to wilt ever so slightly. “Tell her Lieutenant Holland from the Metro PD would like to speak to her right away.”

  “Did you hear that?” After a pause, the woman said, “Okay. I will.” When she put down the phone, she gestured to a closed door across the hall. “You can wait for her in there. She’ll be right down.”

  “Tell her to hurry up. We’re busy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She held up a pad of paper and a pen. “Could I get your autograph?”

  Normally, she acquiesced to those sorts of requests on the job, but today she wasn’t in the mood. “Sorry, I can’t right now.” She pretended to take a call on her cell phone as she walked into the conference room where Freddie was already seated. “What’s up?”

  “You talking to me or some imaginary person on the phone?”

  “I’m on a very important call, so shut your yap.”

  “Sure, you are.”

  “Why do people have to do that whole first lady thing? Why can’t I just be Lieutenant Holland on the job?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question, or do you expect an answer?”

  She slapped her phone closed with the satisfying smack she loved so much. “I want an answer! The whole world knows what I do for a living—and what my side hustle is. Why do we have to talk about it everywhere I go?”

  “Again, is that rhetorical, or are you looking for an answer?”

  “You’re being a serious smartass today.”

  “No, I’m not,” he said, laughing. “It just surprises me that you’re still shocked when people mention your so-called ‘side hustle.’”

  “How long is that going to go on?”

  “Still rhetorical?”

  “Shut up and eat another doughnut.”

  “Is it lunchtime yet? I know some good places here in Del Ray we can hit.”

  “It’s nine o’clock!”

  “Never too early for first lunch.”

  “Where is this woman? I’m getting annoyed.”

  “You hit annoyed the second the receptionist said, ‘first lady.’”

  Sam went to ask the receptionist where the boss was and nearly collided with an older woman who was coming into the room. Somehow she managed to avoid crashing into her, avoid falling and stick the landing all in one smooth move.

  “I’m Joyce Dougherty, the CEO.”

  “Lieutenant Holland. My partner, Detective Cruz. Could we speak in private, please?”

  “Of course.”

  Chapter Ten

  They stepped back into the room, and Sam took great pleasure in shutting the door on the nosy receptionist.

  “What is this about?” Joyce asked.

  “Pam Tappen.”

  Joyce’s expression immediately turned stormy. “That woman is dead to me. Do you have any idea what her incompetence has cost me? My board is outraged at the lack of professionalism she demonstrated by failing to appear at a conference she was paid in advance to manage.”

  “I’m sorry to tell you that she is actually dead.”

  Joyce’s face lost all expression. “What?” she asked on a long breath.

  “She’s been murdered.”

  “Oh my God. Are you sure?”

  “We’re very sure. She was found bound and gagged in her minivan miles from her home. The medical examiner believes she was there for as long as two days before she died. We’ve placed the time of death around six p.m. on Sunday.”

  “Good Lord.” Joyce dropped her head into her hands. “I just can’t believe this.”

  “Where was your conference held?”

  “Baltimore.”

  “And when was Pam due to arrive?”

  “Friday evening to set up for registration and a welcome reception the next morning.”

  “What did you do when she didn’t arrive?”

  “We had to scramble to cover for all the things she was supposed to be handling. Our guests had to wear ‘Hello, My Name Is’ badges from CVS. It was an outrage. The board president told me he’d have my job for hiring someone so incompetent.”

  “This was the first time you’d worked with her?”

  “Yes, and she came highly recommended by a number of other organizations that’d worked with her in the past.”

  “Did you notify anyone when she didn’t show up?”

  That question seemed to take Joyce by surprise. “Who would I notify? She worked alone.”

  “She didn’t have an emergency contact on file with you?”

  “No, we don’t require that of contractors, but in light of this situation, we will in the future.” Joyce leaned in, her expression earnest. “Please try to understand the position I was in when she didn’t show up. I have a small staff of four that had to cover for months of work that Pam had done on our behalf that was now unavailable to us. Serving our membership is our most important mission. We did everything we could to provide them with a successful event with one hand tied behind our backs. I’ve never been through a more stressful situation in my entire life, and even though it all went as well as could be expected, I’m still worried about losing my job over this.”

  “Well, you can tell your board that your contractor was murdered,” Sam said. “That should help.”

  Joyce recoiled from the sarcasm in Sam’s tone. “I’m not in any way discounting the horror of what happened to her. I’m simply telling you the position I was in when she failed to show up to our event.”

  “I understand. In your dealings with Pam, did she ever indicate to you that anything in her life was amiss?”

  “No, our relationship was strictly professional.”

  Sam realized she wasn’t going to get anything more from this woman. “Thank you for your time.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it, unless you have information relevant to Pam’s murder.”

  “I know nothing about that.”

  “Then we’ll be on our way.” Sam led the way past a group of people gathered in the lobby, probably waiting for the chance to see the first lady on the job.

  When they were back in her car and headed toward the District, Sam said, “That was a complete waste of time.”

  “Not entirely. We got to see the woman’s shocked expression when she heard Pam had been murdered, which helps to eliminate her from our suspect list. We also know now that Joyce would’ve had no motive to harm someone she was relying so heavily upon.”

  “Yeah, that’s all true, but it didn’t give us any threads to pull, and you know how I love my threads.”

  “Yes, I do. So what’s next?”

  “I want to see the Tappens again. Find out where Officer Charles put them up.”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe the department sprung for the JW Marriott, but when we travel, we’re supposed to stay at the Motel 6.”

  Freddie laughed. “Right? Nothing but the best for everyone but us.”

  Sam pulled up to the front of the hotel on 14th Street and parked at the front door.

  A uniformed man approached her and did a double take when he realized who she was.

  “I need you to watch my car for a few minutes,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Cappuano.”

  Sam flashed her gold shield. “Lieutenant Holland.”

  “Got it.”

  “Will you take care of my friends’ car, too?” she asked, gesturing to the Secret Service vehicle behind her.

  “Yes, will do. Just leave the keys in both of them in case we have to move them.”

  “We’re not leaving the keys,” Vernon said. “Jimmy can stay with the car.”

  “I miss all the fun stuff,” Jimmy said with a good-natured grin.

  “Right there with you, brother,” Freddie said, fist-bumping the younger of the two agents.

  “If you two are done with your bromance, we’ve got work to do,” Sam said.

  “I’m with you, Lieutenant,” Freddie said.

  “As am I,” Vernon added.

  “I’ll just be here minding the vehicles,” Jimmy said.

  Sam failed to hold back a laugh.

  “Damned insubordinate kids,” Vernon muttered.

  “I feel you,” Sam said, earning a glare from her partner.

  As they made their way to the elevators, they turned every head in the lobby of the busy hotel—or she turned every head. Whatever. She pretended like she didn’t notice people looking at her. On the seventh floor, they encountered a Patrol officer outside the elevators.

  Even though he recognized her, they still went through the required steps to show identification.

  “They’re in 710 and 712,” the officer said. “The friends are across the hall in 709.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said.

  She went to 710 and knocked on the door.

  Bob Tappen answered, looking disheveled and exhausted. He stepped aside to let her and Freddie in.

  Vernon waited in the hallway.

  “Do you have any news about what happened to my wife?” Bob asked.

  “Not yet. We’re working the case as we always do, and we need more help from you and your family. As the people closest to Pam, you’re our best hope of generating information that’ll hopefully lead to answers.”

  “Whatever we can do.”

  “Would you ask your children and Pam’s friend to join us?”

  “Sure.” Bob went to the door that adjoined his room with another and returned with his sons and daughter in tow. They didn’t look much better than he did. “This is Molly.”

  Sam shook the hand of the pretty young woman. She had dark hair and blue eyes that were red and swollen from hours of tears. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bob sent a text to Amy, who joined them a minute later.

  “Is there news?” she asked. She was tall, with reddish-brown hair and green eyes that were also ravaged by grief.

  “Nothing yet,” Sam said, addressing the group. “We need your help to try to understand what happened to Pam.” To Bob, she said, “Is it okay to speak freely about the murder in front of your children?”

  He waved a weary hand. “They already know everything I know.

  “The way she was murdered feels deeply personal, as if the person wanted her to suffer. I’m sorry to have to put this in such blunt terms, but she was left bound and gagged—and alive—inside her car in freezing weather. The person who did this to her wanted her to die a slow, agonizing death.”

  Molly’s heartbroken sobs made Sam feel terrible to be adding to their despair, but if she was going to get them the answers they needed, she had to be truthful with them.

  “Each of you has said you don’t know of anyone who might’ve wanted to harm her that way.”

  “We don’t,” Bob said. “We’ve talked about it all night, and we can’t think of anyone who disliked her, let alone hated her enough to do something like that to her.”

  “We’re going to need a comprehensive list of people she came into contact with in all corners of her life. I know you gave us some names, but we need everyone.”

  “We figured you’d want that info, so we made you a list,” Amy said, handing her a sheet of paper with names, addresses and phone numbers, separated by personal and business.

  Sam liked this woman. They never got this kind of help. “This is excellent. Thank you.”

  “We want to do anything we can to help you find the person who took our beloved Pam from us,” Amy said, her eyes fierce with love and heartbreak. “She and I had been close friends since college. We didn’t see as much of each other as we’d like since we’ve been busy raising kids and working, but we stayed in close touch.”

  “And she never mentioned anything to you about having a conflict with someone?” Sam asked.

  “No, never. She was so happy. Her business was doing better than she could’ve dreamed when she started it six years ago. The boys are excelling in school and sports. Molly made a smooth transition to college in Boston. Things between her and Bob were great, as always.”

  Bob hung his head as he battled with his emotions.

  “They met in college,” Amy continued. “They hit it off right away and have been together ever since. I was there at the beginning, and she still talked about him recently the way she did at the beginning.”

  “Excuse me.” Bob stood and went into the adjoining room.

  “This is so hard for all of us,” Amy said, tears filling her eyes. “Pam was a wonderful wife, mother and friend. To think of how she suffered…” Amy shook her head and wiped away tears. “It’s unbearable.”

  “We appreciate your help and this list of people to talk to.”

  “Whatever we can do to help,” Amy said.

  “I need you to keep thinking about anything she might’ve said, even months or years ago, about something that might’ve happened, a conflict with someone. It can be the smallest thing that’ll blow the case wide open. We’ve seen that happen so many times.”

  “We’ll let you know if we think of anything,” Amy said.

  The kids nodded in agreement.

  “Thank you.”

  “When will they be able to get back into their home?” Amy asked.

  “I’ll let you know the minute our Crime Scene detectives are finished.”

  “Okay,” Amy said. “We’ll wait to hear.”

  Sam lowered her voice so only Amy would hear her. “In the meantime, you might want to help Bob decide what funeral home he’d like to use so he’s ready when the ME releases her.”

  “I will.”

  As they rode the elevator to the lobby, Sam looked at the list of names Amy had given her. “Let’s start with the friends. If anyone knew what was going on with her, it would be them.”

  “Even more than the family?” Freddie asked.

  “Some women confide things in their friends that they wouldn’t tell anyone else, even their husbands.”

  “You don’t do that.”

  “I’m not like most women.”

  Freddie snorted out a laugh. “No, you aren’t.”

  “I mean I talk to my sisters, and I have friends, but I don’t tell them things that Nick doesn’t know. Does Elin?”

  “She has a lot of close friends, but I don’t think she has secrets from me.”

  “I suppose it’s not possible to ever fully know everything about someone. Even in the closest of relationships, people still hold parts of themselves back.”

  “I don’t,” Freddie said. “There’s nothing about me that Elin doesn’t know.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Nope. I tell her everything. Except for things at work that I’m not allowed to tell anyone. What about you? Do you tell Nick everything?”

  “Just about everything. I can’t think of anything he doesn’t know off the top of my head,” Sam said. “The first two friends on the list are in Brentwood, so let’s start there.”

  “I’m going to need food soon.”

  “It’s only ten.”

  “The perfect time for first lunch.”

  “After we talk to the friends.”

  “Ugh, you’re killing me.”

  “Nah, your diet is going to kill you long before I do.”

  While they worked their way through downtown traffic on the way to Brentwood, Sam took a call from Nick on the BlackBerry.

  “Hey,” she said, “what’s up?”

  “We’re looking at Friday for the trip to Des Moines, but I wanted to make sure you can do it before I commit to the date.”

  “That’s kind of soon after it happened, isn’t it?”

  “The thought is to get there before Christmas, and that’s the only day I can do it. We’ve been assured by local authorities that they’ve consulted with the families, and we’re welcome to come.”

  “Ah, okay. I’ll need to clear it with Malone, since we’re in the middle of a case. Can I let you know?”

  “Sure, but as soon as you can. As you can imagine, the logistics are daunting.”

  “I’ll call him right now.”

  “Thanks, babe.”

  “What’s the latest from Des Moines?”

  “Nothing new since last night. Just a bunch of families waking up to a whole new reality this morning. And some pretty significant pushback on my statement from yesterday about sensible gun control, but that’s to be expected. It’s a hot-button issue.”