“Earlier today, an email was issued by Secretary Jennings to all service members in the wake of the situation with the former Joint Chiefs of Staff. Service members were offered the opportunity to separate from the military with a dishonorable discharge if they feel unable to serve under my command. From what we’ve been told by his colleagues, Corporal Briggs was furious about the discharge being dishonorable and was asked to leave his workplace to get himself together. Needless to say, I’m shattered to have been in any way connected to Corporal Briggs’s despicable actions.

  “Samantha and I are devastated by these events and our hearts broken for the families reeling from this horrific tragedy. In the coming days, we’ll visit Fort Liberty to express our condolences in person. For now, we ask our fellow citizens for their prayers on behalf of the brave servicemen and servicewomen who lost their lives or suffered grievous injuries. We also ask you to pray for their families.

  “We’ll have more information in the coming days. In the meantime, we ask you to pray for the Fort Liberty community and for all our servicemen and servicewomen on duty around the world tonight. Good night and Godspeed to those we lost today and those fighting for their lives.”

  “And we’re out.”

  Nick removed the microphone and the powerpack that had been clipped to his belt and handed them to the technician. “Thanks, Josh.”

  “No problem, Mr. President.”

  Of course Nick knew his name, and judging by the young man’s smile, he appreciated the courtesy of being recognized by the most powerful man in the world.

  “We’ve done what we can here,” Nick said, with his hand on Sam’s lower back. “Let’s get back to our place.”

  “I’m with you, Mr. President.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  * * *

  The phone rang several times during the night as the Fort Liberty death toll rose to six servicemembers. Four men and two women were dead. They ranged in age from nineteen to twenty-seven and had five children among them. One had been engaged to be married in three short weeks. Another had just returned to duty after a year away to battle cancer.

  Each person had a unique story, a family who loved them and so much more to give.

  Nick’s heart broke all over again every time the phone rang with an update.

  “What are you thinking?” Sam asked after the third call.

  “Maybe I should step aside if they hate me enough to kill people.”

  “What would that solve? Gretchen would become president, and people would have the same beef with her as they do with you. And who knows what she’d be like as president? At least with you, we know what we’re getting.”

  “We know that. Other people don’t. That’s the problem.”

  “So let’s work on that. Let’s do more interviews so people have a chance to get to know us better, something more in-depth where we invite the reporter in to really get a feel for us and our family and what we’re about.”

  His hand landed on her forehead.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Checking to see if you have a fever.”

  She whacked his hand away. “Stop. I’m serious.”

  “So am I. Who are you, and what’ve you done with my first lady?”

  “I’m your wife, the person who loves you more than anything or anyone, and I’m tired of this narrative that you’re an illegitimate president. You’re the only president they’ve got for the next three years, so let’s make sure they know exactly who you are and what you stand for. They can even follow me at work.”

  “You’re terrifying me.”

  Sam laughed. “I’m serious!”

  “I know. That’s the part that’s terrifying—you welcoming a reporter to dissect our lives and follow you around at work is the last thing I would ever expect you to do.”

  “I live to surprise you.”

  “Well, you have.”

  “We need someone big to talk to us,” Sam said. “Like Oprah.”

  “Do you think she’d do it?”

  Sam laughed. “Yes, Nick, I think she’d be interested in doing an in-depth interview with the president and first lady, and I’d love to meet her. We used to watch her show every day when I was in college. I was addicted. Run it by your people, and let’s make it happen. The sooner, the better.”

  He rolled onto his side and put his arm around her. “Look at my first lady go.”

  “Watch out for her. She’s a tiger with a rusty steak knife when people say mean things about her husband or do horrible things to others because they don’t know the first thing about their commander in chief.”

  Laughter shook his body. “Easy, tiger. No stabbing allowed.”

  “I’m allowed to think about it, though, right?”

  “Of course.”

  She placed her hand on his face. “I know this is awful and horrible and tragic and every other terrible thing. But it’s not your fault, Nick.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you? Do you really?”

  “I’m working on it. It’s hard to stomach that it was tied to me, even indirectly.”

  “Try to think of it this way. It was tied to the office you hold. Not you. It was tied to the Constitution and how it addresses transfer of power. Not you. It was tied to the treasonous actions of senior military officers who should’ve known better and done better. Not you.”

  As he listened to her, he felt the unbearable tension start to ease a bit. “You’re right.”

  “Duh, I know I’m right.”

  “Now you sound like Scotty.”

  “Scotty sounds like me.”

  “Heaven help us.”

  “Everything I said is the truth. What happened at Fort Liberty, as tragic and horrifying as it is, is not your fault.”

  “As commander in chief, I feel responsible for those service members.”

  “It’s okay to feel responsible for them—as you should. It’s not okay to blame yourself for what happened to them.”

  “Thank you for the reminder.”

  “Any time you need to hear it. Now come here and let me hold you so you can try to sleep.”

  He rested his head on her chest, and she ran her fingers through his hair as her hand made soothing circles on his back. “Your TLC is having the opposite effect from what you intended.”

  “Tell him to stand down. It’s sleep time.”

  “He only knows how to stand up. He doesn’t do stand down.”

  “Close your eyes, and let it all go so you can rest.”

  “Two of my three eyes are closed.”

  Sam’s body rocked with laughter. “That’s so gross.”

  “Nothing gross about it, my love. In fact, you often say, ‘Oh, oh, oh,’ when he shows up.”

  She smacked his shoulder.

  “I speak only the truth,” he said as he pressed his hard cock against her leg.

  “Let me at it.”

  “What’s this you say?”

  She pushed on his shoulder to make room for her hand to slide down the front of him and wrap around his erection.

  Nick gasped from the immediate charge of desire. “What is happening?”

  “I want you to sleep, and he is standing in the way of that. I know how to make him stand down.”

  “Oh, that sounds intriguing. Do tell.”

  “How about I show you instead?”

  “Even better.”

  He closed his eyes and tried to follow her advice to let it all go as she stroked him with slow, deliberate movements designed to drive him crazy, all the while continuing to run her fingers through his hair, sending shivers down his spine.

  “Samantha.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  His hips came off the bed as he raised himself on his arms so he was hovering over her as she continued to stroke him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without this.”

  “I’m right here, love. Always.”

  He kissed her as he came, moaning against her lips from the surge of desire and love. After he broke the kiss, he gazed down at her sweet face, illuminated by the glow of a nightlight. “I need to clean you up.”

  “I’ve got it. You rest.”

  She scooted out from under him as he turned onto his back, his body throbbing from the release. At the worst of times, only she could make him forget the ever-present worries for a few blissful minutes.

  When she slid back into bed, he held out his arms to her, and she rested her head on his chest.

  “Try to sleep,” she said. “You’ve done what you can for now. Tomorrow is another day.”

  Tightening his arms around her, he exhaled. He was still sick over the violence at Fort Liberty, but Sam was right. He’d done what he could, and he’d have to face it again in the morning.

  * * *

  Freddie Cruz was at his desk at five a.m., determined to find out as much as he possibly could about the man who used to command their squad. He started with a regular Google search and worked his way through the voluminous coverage about his attempts to murder Sam, the trial and the sentencing.

  In addition to the newer articles, Stahl had been quoted many times as part of investigations and other MPD business. Knowing now that most of what he’d said was probably lies was hard to swallow even days after the new information came to light.

  He went back further, finding a mention of Stahl’s graduation from McKinley High School more than thirty years ago. That was the only mention of his life before he joined the department.

  Next, he accessed city databases to find his birth certificate, listing Richard and Donna Stahl as his parents.

  He did an internal search for Donna Stahl and hit paydirt with stories about domestic violence accusations she filed against Richard and then later how she was charged for abusing her son, Leonard. He had a sick feeling as he read through the list of injuries thirteen-year-old Leonard had withstood at the hands of his mother—a severe concussion, a fractured jaw, a lacerated forearm that required forty stitches, bruises all over his body and several unexplainable burns.

  Freddie felt like he’d found the explanation for why Stahl had turned out to be such a sadistic monster. He’d been raised by one.

  There were reports from child welfare employees who’d recommended removal from the home long before the final incident had resulted in Stahl moving to his father’s home.

  Donna Stahl had been charged with multiple felonies and had served fifteen years in the same prison her son was now in before being released.

  Over the next hour, Freddie used every resource at his disposal to find her current location. When he struck out, he decided to call Sam’s favorite probation officer, Brendan Sullivan, to see if he had any info on where Donna might be. Since it was still early, he left a message for Brendan.

  “What’s up?” Gonzo asked.

  Freddie had been so engrossed in his task that he hadn’t heard his friend approach. “Digging into Stahl a bit. I found out why he went to live with his father at thirteen.” He handed Gonzo a printout of the report on the incident that had put him in the hospital. “His mother beat the crap out of him.”

  As Gonzo read the report, his expression never changed. “This explains a lot.”

  “I know.”

  “But it doesn’t excuse anything he’s done.”

  “I agree.”

  “Good work, Freddie.”

  “Thanks. I’m trying to figure out where the mother is now, and I’m going to read more about the brother who went missing.”

  “Let me know what you find.”

  After Gonzo walked away, Freddie searched for the reports about Michael Stahl, Leonard’s half brother. The fifteen-year-old had gone missing while walking home from school. There’d been no witnesses or anything for investigators to work with when the teenager went missing. His parents and friends had reported that he was a happy kid with lots of friends and interests, that no one disliked him that they knew of and that he got good grades in school.

  Freddie wondered if Len had hated Michael because he was happy and well-adjusted.

  It was a theory worth looking into.

  According to articles he found about the teenager’s disappearance, Michael’s parents had done everything they could to find their son, including annual events to keep his name in the news and regular contact with the MPD. They’d had age-progression photos created and papered the neighborhood with flyers.

  The family’s efforts had ended with Richard’s death and then his wife Karen’s a couple of years later, leaving only Leonard and his half sister, Cindy.

  Gonzo came out of the office. “I just talked to Malone’s informant, looking for more info on how he knew to point us in Stahl’s direction on the missing women. He said it was a conversation he overheard about how the cops had one in their ranks who’d done his friend’s sister dirty and probably a bunch of others, too. The guy had a real problem with women, and everyone knew it. Malone’s informant, who doesn’t want me to know his name, said he worked his way into the conversation to ask which cop the guy was talking about. He said, ‘The same one who tried to kill the first lady.’ Malone’s guy asked how he knew, and the other guy said, ‘People talk. That’s been word on the street for a long time.’”

  “Wow,” Freddie said. “So people knew about Stahl and did nothing?”

  “They probably figured we’d take care of our own, so what was the point in reporting it?”

  “I can see that. Still, they could’ve called the tip line and reported it anonymously.”

  “Sure, but, playing devil’s advocate, maybe they were afraid we’d figure out who they were and come after them. They might’ve had their own skeletons to keep hidden and weren’t willing to risk their own necks to report him.”

  “True.” Freddie shared what he’d learned about Michael Stahl’s disappearance. “Gone without a single trace for more than twenty-five years.”

  “How can that not be related to Stahl?” Gonzo asked.

  “There’s no way it isn’t related.”

  * * *

  In the morning, with Nick next door dealing with the Fort Liberty shootings, a wildfire in Southern California and flooding in Kentucky, among other things, Sam checked in with Freddie.

  “Hey,” he said. “I was going to text you to see how you guys are doing. I just can’t believe the news about the tomatoes or what happened in North Carolina.”

  “I know. That’s awful, and Nick is blaming himself because it was tied to the situation with the Joint Chiefs.”

  “I heard. All the news shows are focused on the gunman’s rants to his coworkers ahead of the shooting.”

  Sam had intentionally left the TV off. “Of course they are.”

  “Plenty of pundits are saying this falls squarely at the feet of the disgraced former Joint Chiefs, who put the wind in this guy’s sails with their actions.”

  “I’m glad someone is saying that.”

  “A lot of people are. If they hadn’t done what they did, this guy wouldn’t have thought it was okay to kill his fellow service members.”

  “It’s all so senseless,” Sam said. “I can’t stop thinking about their parents getting that news, thinking their kids were safe on a military base, far away from conflict. It’s so horrible.”

  “It really is. I’m sorry it happened and that Nick feels responsible. If anything, that shows what a compassionate leader he is.”

  “Try telling that to the people fueling this illegitimacy fire. He said last night maybe he should just step aside, and I reminded him that another unelected leader is in line behind him, so it wouldn’t solve the problem. It would only make the country more unstable.”

  “Look at you becoming the adroit political wife.”

  “That’s a big word for such a young grasshopper.”

  “What is? Political?”

  “Adroit,” she said with a laugh. “I’m not even sure I know what that means.”

  “Savvy.”

  “Ah, yes, I am that.”

  “Cripes, that was a softball.”

  “And I hit it out of the park.”

  “Whatever. So do you have to go there?”

  “Yes,” she said, sighing. “Nick is figuring out when.”

  “I don’t envy you guys that task. So why’d you call me, anyway?”

  “Because I miss you and your sharp wit.”

  “Try again.”

  “I’m wondering about what’s up with the search at Stahl’s house.”

  He filled her in on everything he’d learned earlier in the day about Stahl’s background and the disappearance of his half brother.

  “How much you want to bet he was involved with that?”

  “We have no doubt. Brendan Sullivan had no info on where Stahl’s mother lives these days, and I can’t find any sign of her anywhere.”

  “Maybe she changed her name after prison.”

  “That’s a possibility. How do you feel after hearing what he went through as a kid?”

  “Sad for someone who tried to kill me.”

  “I felt the same way. While it doesn’t excuse the things he’s done, at least there’s a scintilla of reason behind it. In other news, they’ve discovered paperwork for a storage unit. We’re awaiting a warrant to get in there. We’re terrified about what we might find.”

  “God, I can’t even imagine.”

  “The forensic excavation teams have arrived to work the site in his yard. Haggerty and his squad are working around the clock.”

  “Has the media caught wind yet?”

  “Not that I’ve heard, but Public Affairs is in all-day meetings with the brass to figure out timing on that. You could ask Jeannie what’s going on.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks for the update. I think.”

  “And get this, Stahl’s sister is threatening to file suit against the department because we kicked her and her kids out of the house. I sort of felt for her when I met her yesterday. She’s caught up in his stuff the same way we are.”