“If we have to work, I’ll make sure you’re free by then.”

  “Thanks, boss.”

  “But let’s make it our goal to sew this fucker up quick so we can be done before the holidays.”

  “I’m on board for that.”

  They stepped into Dr. Markham’s office, which was all but deserted late on that Tuesday afternoon. The shocked receptionist slid open the window. “May I help you?”

  Sam and Freddie showed their badges. “Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz to see Dr. Markham.”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “No, he’s most definitely not expecting us.”

  “Could you please hold on for one minute?”

  “I can, but that’s about all the time I have.”

  “I’ll be right with you.” The woman closed the window and then disappeared into the corridor off the office.

  “I appreciate her,” Sam said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “She obviously recognized me, but didn’t make a red-hot fool of herself, and when I asked for Markham, she asked if he was expecting me. Not ‘do you have an appointment?’ when she knows damned well I don’t. And then she went right off to get him. I give her an A-plus in receptionisting.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  “I can make it a word. I’m the first lady, you know.”

  He rolled his eyes. “So you’re playing that card when it’s convenient for you?”

  “When else should I play it?”

  Before he could respond to that, the receptionist came through a door to the inner sanctum. “Right this way, please.”

  “A-plus-plus,” Sam said to Freddie.

  They followed the receptionist past dark exam rooms to an office at the end of a long hallway. The second Sam caught her first glimpse of Dr. Tyler Markham, she realized why his name was familiar. She’d once come to him for fertility treatment while married to Peter. If he recognized her as anything other than the first lady, he didn’t let on. The sight of his face instantly transported her back to one of the most difficult times in her life, and she had to fight through the swell of emotion that came with those memories so she could stay focused on the job she was here to do.

  Sam went through the ritual of introducing them and showing their badges.

  He stood behind his desk, handsome in a strong, competent sort of way that reminded her a bit of Nick, although Markham’s hair was dark blond, and his eyes were blue. “What can I do for you, Detectives?”

  “We’re investigating the murder of Pam Tappen. During the course of our investigation, we’ve come to learn that you once had a relationship with her.”

  Judging by his shocked expression, he hadn’t expected that. “Pam is dead?”

  “Yes,” Sam said. “She was found yesterday bound and gagged and left to freeze to death in her minivan, which was located miles from her home.”

  “Oh my God,” he said, sitting. “That’s horrible.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “What does it have to do with me? I haven’t seen her in years.”

  “How many years?”

  He thought about that for a minute. “Three. I spent some time with her shortly after I lost my wife to breast cancer. We were introduced by a mutual friend at a dinner party and had a lovely conversation over dinner. She reached out to me the following week, asked if I wanted to meet for coffee.”

  “And you knew she was married?”

  “I did,” he said, grimacing, “and it’s so not my style to get involved with a married woman. But things were a bit of a mess in my life at that time. I’d been left to finish raising three teenagers on my own, and Pam… She was so warm and understanding, and I just… I needed that.”

  “How and why did it end?”

  “It ended when I couldn’t handle the guilt of being with a married woman. After a couple of months of seeing her, I started to snap out of the initial fog of grief and didn’t like what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I worried about her husband and kids and about people finding out and thinking poorly of me—and having that reflect on my children. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

  “How did Pam respond when you broke it off with her?”

  “She was sad about it. We both were. We’d found something we both needed in the other, and it was hard to let it go, but it was the right thing to do.” He took a deep breath before he added, “I’m not proud of being involved with a married woman, but I had genuine feelings for her, and she helped me through the most difficult time in my life. However, it ended a long time ago.”

  Sam appreciated his candor and forthcomingness. Those were two things that could be hard to come by in her line of work. “We’re trying to understand why someone like Pam, who had a husband and three children she was obviously devoted to, would seek out men outside her marriage. And I ask that with zero judgment. It just seems out of character for the person we’d come to know before we received this information about her extracurricular activities.”

  Markham seemed to sag somewhat as he contemplated the proper response to her question. “It was out of character for her. She struggled horribly with it. She loves Bob and didn’t want to divorce him or break up their family. But things between them had changed, and she was in a tough spot.”

  “I know you said you hadn’t been in touch with her in years, but when you were, did she mention anything or anyone that was causing her particular stress?”

  “Her son Lucas’s football was always a source of strain. It was nonstop tournaments, weekends going here, there and everywhere. As much as she loved Lucas and wanted to support him, she hated those tournaments and the endless commitments. Her younger son was also a gifted athlete, so her years as a football mom were feeling overwhelming to her.”

  “This has been very helpful.” Sam stood and placed her business card on his desk. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant, even the smallest thing, please give me a call.”

  “I will.” He glanced at her. “Do you remember meeting me before?”

  “I do.”

  Nodding, he said, “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “You, too. Thank you again for your time.”

  “I wish there was more I could do. Pam was a lovely person. I’m very sad to hear that she’s been killed.”

  “We’ll see ourselves out,” Sam said.

  In the elevator, Freddie looked over at her. “How do you know him?”

  “I went to him for fertility treatment years ago when I was married to Peter. His name rang a bell, but I didn’t put it together until I saw him.”

  “Yikes, that must’ve been an unpleasant blast from the past for you.”

  “It was, but that was a long time ago now. It’s not as raw as it used to be before Scotty, Eli and the twins came into my life.” They walked to her car in frigid late-afternoon darkness. “Do you want me to take you to HQ or the Metro?”

  “The Metro works. Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you to Ninth?”

  “I’m sure. It’s no big deal. Just a quick errand.”

  “Okay, but I’m happy to go with you if you want me to.”

  Sam appreciated that he was offering, knowing how eager he always was to get home to his wife at the end of every long day. “I got it, but points to you for offering.”

  “I’ll add them to my running tally of points earned on the job. I’m still waiting to hear how I can redeem them.”

  “We’ll get back to you on that.” She pulled up to the curb outside the Farragut North Metro station. “Thanks for everything today.”

  “You got it.”

  “Hey, Freddie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just want you to know how much I appreciate that we can still be us in the middle of the insanity swirling around me these days. It means so much to me to keep things normal with you.”

  “We’ll always be us, regardless of how famous and important you become to everyone else.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If you need to talk after grief group, you know where to find me.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “I know! I tell you that every day!”

  “Get out.”

  “She gives and she takes away, all in the same minute.” He got out of the car and gave her a jaunty wave before he took off in a jog toward the train that would take him home to Woodley Park.

  Sam loved him unreasonably. It occurred to her once again that she probably ought to not partner with him, because she’d protect him over herself in any situation. But she simply couldn’t imagine doing this horrible job without him riding shotgun and making her laugh all day. As she drove toward Capitol Hill, she told herself it was no big deal to be running home to Ninth Street for a few minutes. Because it wasn’t a big deal.

  But as she pulled onto the street and drove past where the Secret Service checkpoint had been before they moved to the White House, she was struck by how deserted and forlorn the street seemed without all the activity that had surrounded them when Nick was vice president. The neighbors were probably singing hallelujah that they’d moved out and taken their three-ring circus with them.

  As Sam pulled up outside the double townhouse she and Nick had called home, the sight of the ramp leading to their front door that Nick had built for her dad tugged at her heart. Outside, as she stood on the sidewalk, she glanced toward the ramp outside her father’s now-dark home and reflected on the massive changes that had occurred in her life since her father died in October. Everything was different now, and she couldn’t help but yearn for what had been just a short time ago.

  She went up the ramp to her front door and realized it’d been more than a year since she’d had to use her key to get in. On many a night, she’d returned home to chaos inside this house, kids chasing each other around, screaming with delight as Nick stood watch over them. Tonight, she was greeted by silence and an odd echo as she walked through the first floor on her way upstairs to the third-floor storage room where the Christmas decorations were stored.

  Passing Scotty’s abandoned room as well as the bedroom the twins had shared, she reflected on how a house was just a building without the people who made it a home. In just a few short weeks, this place no longer felt like home, because the people who made it one lived elsewhere now. She found the ornaments right where she’d thought they’d be and brought the box downstairs. In the kitchen, she eyed the table where they’d had so many meals and conversations and mornings with the kids.

  Sam saw Shelby bustling around the kitchen with her son, Noah, strapped to her chest and yearned for the simplicity of only a few weeks ago. She poured a glass of ice water from the fridge and sat at the table, which already bore a faint layer of dust on its surface. She used her fingertip to draw a heart in the dust.

  This was where she belonged, on Ninth Street in the heart of the Capitol Hill neighborhood where she’d grown up in a modest, middle-class family. As much as she respected the historical significance of the White House, living in the midst of opulence and being ma’am’d nonstop by butlers and other household staff would never feel normal to her.

  She had no idea how long she sat in the kitchen, wallowing in the familiar before she had to return to the new normal. The ringer on the BlackBerry startled her out of her thoughts. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself,” Nick said. “Where are you?”

  “At Ninth Street, actually.”

  “What’re you doing there?”

  “I came to get some of our ornaments for the tree in the residence.”

  “Ah, I see. You sound a little weird. Are you okay?”

  “It’s strange to be here. It’s like all the life has been sucked out of the place or something.”

  “Do I need to come get you?”

  Knowing it would take a huge effort by the Secret Service to bring him the short distance across town, she said, “Nah, no need. I’m leaving in a few.”

  “I’d come get you if you needed me to.”

  “I know you would.”

  “Do I need to be worried that you might choose to stay there?”

  “Not even kinda.”

  “Part of me wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “I won’t, Nick. I want to be wherever you and the kids are. This place is just a building without you guys here to make it a home.”

  “We need you here to make this place a home.”

  “I’ve got the grief group tonight. I’m going for the first part at least. I’ll be home after.”

  “We’ll be here.”

  “How was your day?”

  “Not terrible, but not over yet. Gretchen Henderson is coming in shortly.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “I know, babe. I’m going to have a very frank conversation with her and make sure I’m comfortable.”

  “Good luck. I know it’s a tough decision.”

  “Every minute around here is a tough decision. Do I send troops in to defend the Gulf of Suez from pirates, risking a confrontation with any number of countries that would love nothing more than to wipe us off the planet? Or do I hold off and hope the Egyptians and others can confront the pirates on their own?”

  “Jeez, that makes my day seem simple by comparison. What’re you going to do?”

  “We’re giving it another twenty-four hours before we decide anything. The thought of sending U.S. troops into harm’s way gives me incredible anxiety, even if I’m well aware that it’s part of the job.”

  “I’d be worried if that didn’t give you anxiety. I have no doubt that whatever you decide to do will be the best possible decision you could make with the information you have available at the time.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. This is the stuff that makes me wonder why anyone would want this job. On another note, the communications team would like for you to make a statement about the Des Moines shooting on the FLOTUS accounts. Lilia is going to reach out to you with some suggestions.”

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “The thought is for you to address it from a mother’s perspective.”

  “I can’t even imagine what those families must be going through.”

  “The media is publishing stories about each of the victims, and it’s just heartbreaking.”

  “As sad as I am to have lost my dad, I can’t begin to conceive of it being one of the kids.”

  “Let’s not go there. Our kids are very well protected, which is the one major benefit of this job.”

  “Well, the butlers don’t suck.”

  “No,” he said, laughing, “they certainly don’t. I’m going to have to add a second daily workout to my schedule to keep from gaining twenty pounds a year while we live here.”

  “I need to add a first workout to my daily schedule.”

  “No, you don’t. I love you just the way you are.”

  “You have to say that.”

  “That isn’t true, and you know it. Now, go finish your stuff and get your sexy ass home to me ASAP. I have a surprise for you.”

  “What surprise?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Ugh, why did you have to tell me about it when I have to wait hours to see it?”

  “Because I knew you’d flip out about it, and that makes me laugh.”

  “You’ll pay for this later.”

  “I can’t wait. Love you.”

  “For some strange reason, I love you, too.”

  Nick ended the call laughing, leaving her with a big goofy grin on her face. That was his superpower—making her laugh and smile when the rest of her life was often chaotic and full of the darkness that came with working the homicide beat. His love sustained her through good times and bad, and all it took was one ten-minute conversation with him to brighten her mood.

  She stood to wash and dry the glass she’d used and put it back on the shelf with the rest of the dishes that would be waiting for them to return to their home when their time at the White House came to an end. Part of her couldn’t wait for that day, but another part of her was determined to enjoy this adventure of a lifetime to the best of her ability while it lasted.

  There was literally not another man alive for whom she would’ve taken on the role of first lady. For Nick, she’d proven once again that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him—and was certain that worked both ways.

  Leaving the house, she felt energized to return to HQ for the grief group meeting and to leave as soon as she could make a clean escape so she could get home to her family. At her request, Dr. Trulo had scheduled this meeting for six rather than seven so she could get home that much earlier. Her plan was to attend the first part of the meeting and leave during the break. She felt strongly about being present for the group she’d founded, but didn’t feel obligated to attend every second of every meeting.

  She hoped the attendees would understand.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Her regular cell phone rang with a call from Lilia, her chief of staff at the White House. “Hi there,” Sam said. “I heard you were going to call.”

  “Hope I’m not disturbing your work.”

  “Not at all. I’m driving, so your timing is perfect.”

  “Excellent. So we’re thinking a post from the first lady expressing her condolences to the families in Des Moines might be in order.”

  “I’m in favor of that. What do you have in mind?”

  “How does this sound? ‘The president and I wish to express our heartfelt condolences to the families and loved ones of the people lost in Des Moines to this senseless tragedy. As a mother, my heart breaks for the loss of innocent children enjoying an annual tradition. As a law enforcement officer, I agonize over the toll gun violence is taking on our society and vow to work closely with the president to bring about sensible changes that will make all of us safer.’ What do you think?”

  “That’s perfect. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “Great, we’ll get it posted to your social channels and then monitor them for commentary.”

  “Thanks, Lilia. You always make me look good.”