Sam sighed as she listened to him. Although she understood where he and the chief were coming from, she couldn’t bear to know there were cases that hadn’t gotten even the most rudimentary of effort from Stahl. She started the car and drove away from Thorn’s house, leaving the details of that case to Gonzo to supervise.

  “Tell me you get it,” Malone said.

  “I do, but I don’t like it.”

  “We don’t either. We hate that corners were cut and cases were given little or no effort. That’s not who we are as cops or human beings, but unfortunately, not everyone we work with feels the way we do. Having you on the job while you’re first lady gives us a chance to change the narrative around the department. Your appearance on the Today show was very well received, and the grief group is getting national attention. That’s the publicity we need now, as well as the bump of sympathy we’ll receive for the trial of Arnold’s killer, not another cold case solved in two days because we finally decided to care about it.”

  “But solving cold cases is good PR for the department. It shows the community we never stop looking for answers.”

  “In this case, it shows the community that we had officers in command positions who didn't do the bare minimum for victims. That’s the story we can’t afford right now. We’re not saying never on this. We’re just saying not right now when Stahl has just been convicted of attempted murder and we’ve got Conklin and Hernandez facing charges in your dad’s case. With Calvin Worthington, people are focusing on the outrage of it taking only an afternoon to solve a case that should’ve been solved fifteen years ago.”

  Sam had so much more she wanted to say, but she recognized a brick wall when she was banging her head against it. “I hear you. I hate it, but I get it. You can let the chief know that we’ll stand down on the cold-case review.”

  “Thank you. He’ll appreciate your understanding.”

  “I’d also like to go on record as objecting to us working the sympathy card during the trial.”

  “We’re not going to work it, but we will benefit from it. It’s just the nature of these things. You know that.”

  “Sometimes this world is just too fucked up for me to stand. How could Stahl have let a teenage girl go missing and done nothing to try to find her? How did he live with himself?”

  “I don’t know, and I’m glad I don’t know what it’s like to be that kind of person. He’s going to have the rest of his life to sit in prison and think about all the many ways he could’ve been a better person.”

  “He won’t think about that. He’ll think about how I ruined his life just by being born.”

  “You’re probably right about that. He lacks the ability to be introspective.”

  That made Sam laugh. “Indeed he does.”

  “One other piece of news, and then I’ll let you go. Ramsey has been charged with vandalism and B&E.”

  Breaking and entering was a felony. “Wow. Forrester isn’t fooling around.”

  “The chief asked the USA to throw the book at Ramsey. He wants to be sure something sticks so we aren’t forced to take him back when he gets off on some random technicality.”

  “That’d be good.”

  “We all agree that you need to be careful, Sam. He, too, is going to blame you for everything that’s gone wrong in his life.”

  “I know,” Sam said with a sigh. “It sure gets tiring taking the blame for men who can’t keep their own shit together.”

  “I’m sure it does, but the threat is real nonetheless. On another note, how does Gonzales seem to be doing ahead of the trial?”

  “As well as can be expected. He says he’s ready and looking forward to getting it over with. Justice for Arnold is his only concern. He assures me his recovery is solid, and he’s not going to allow a backwards spiral. I’m keeping an eye on him, and having him in charge of the Thorn investigation will be good for him.”

  “Agreed. Please let me know if you feel he needs anything at all. If we’ve learned anything in the last year, it’s that we need to do more to support our people when they suffer trauma on the job.”

  “Yes, we do.” She hated how much Gonzo had suffered after his partner’s senseless murder and how he’d kept the worst of it hidden from the people closest to him. “I’m going to head home and get some sleep while I can. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “See you then.”

  Twenty minutes later, she crawled into bed with Nick, who put an arm around her and drew her in close to him. She released a deep breath and tried to calm her racing mind so she could get some rest, but all she could think about was Bryson Thorn’s murder and what kind of shit storm might erupt in their lives as a result.

  * * *

  Gonzo’s first order of business was to speak with Thorn’s distraught wife. “Did you get her name?” he asked the Patrol officer who’d been first on the scene.

  “It’s Tiffany. She said she came home from dinner with friends to find Bryson dead in the yard.”

  “Did you ask about security cameras?”

  “She said the security system was off because Bryson was home.”

  “Of course it was. Please do a canvass of the property. See if you can find me a murder weapon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gonzo walked over to speak to the woman who was being comforted by a female Patrol officer. Thorn’s wife reminded Gonzo of a Barbie doll, right down to the blonde hair that fell in perfect waves around her shoulders. “Mrs. Thorn, I’m Detective Sergeant Gonzales with the Metro PD. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Wh-who could’ve done this to him?” she asked between sobs, looking up at him with red, swollen eyes. “Everyone loved Bryson.”

  Not everyone, Gonzo thought. “When was the last time you spoke to him?”

  “Before I left for dinner with my girlfriends. He said he was going to make dinner for our son, and they were planning to watch a movie before bed.”

  “And your son? Where is he?”

  “Asleep in his bed.”

  “What time does he usually go to bed?”

  “Around eight thirty on school nights.”

  “And you got home at what time?”

  “At ten twenty. I noticed the time on my dash when I pulled into the driveway.”

  That information gave Gonzo a timeline to work with. Thorn had been killed sometime between eight thirty and ten twenty. “Can you think of anyone who was at odds with him?”

  “Other than your boss and her husband?” Tiffany asked with a hard edge to her voice. “They were suing him for a million dollars for violating the NDA at the party.”

  Gonzo didn’t blame Sam and Nick one bit for enforcing the NDA and for trying to make it hurt after the trouble Thorn’s photos had caused for Nick in the first days of his presidency. “Anyone else?”

  “You’re going to investigate them, right?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  She didn’t care for that response. “Powerful people always get a pass with things like this.”

  “My boss and her husband are under twenty-four-hour-a-day protection from the Secret Service, which would make committing murder rather difficult.”

  “That doesn’t mean they couldn’t hire it done,” she said forcefully, as if she honestly believed Sam and Nick would hire someone to kill her husband.

  “I believe the lawsuit spoke for itself. They were far more interested in causing him financial pain than physical pain.”

  “Believe what you want. You’ll never convince me they didn’t have something to do with this, and I’ll bet the media will be interested in that angle, too.”

  “Is that your plan? To take your case to the media with zero proof of their involvement in the hope that the president and first lady will be convicted in the court of public opinion?”

  She squirmed a bit under his intense stare. “How could it not be related to the lawsuit?”

  “I can think of a million ways this could be unrelated to the lawsuit. We’ll do a full investigation, and at the conclusion of that, we’ll hopefully find the person who did this to your husband. In the meantime, I’d suggest you refrain from spouting bullshit to the press that might affect our ability to get justice for your husband. That’s what you want, right? Justice for him?”

  “Of course that’s what I want,” she snapped.

  “Then let us do our jobs, and keep your baseless theories to yourself.”

  “Can you be objective when your prime suspects are your friends?”

  “They’re not the prime suspects.”

  “I guess that answers my question,” she said bitterly.

  “I’d suggest you refrain from venting about them unless you want another lawsuit to deal with.”

  “They might have me killed, too.”

  Gonzo realized he wasn’t going to get any more useful info from her and decided to cut his losses. “Write down your full name and phone number in case I have follow-up questions. Also write down the names and numbers of the women you were with tonight.”

  She took the notebook from him, wrote the information for herself, used her phone to get the numbers for her friends and then thrust the notebook back at him.

  “If you know anything about what happened to your husband, Mrs. Thorn, I suggest you tell me now.”

  “I told you! I was at dinner with my friends. I don’t know anything.” She began to cry again, her body shaking from the effort expended to project intense grief.

  He no sooner had that thought than he realized she was faking it. How he knew that and why he knew it, he couldn’t say. But he was one hundred percent sure she was putting on a show for him.

  As he started to walk away, the medical examiner’s van pulled into the driveway. Gonzo went over to speak with Dr. Byron Tomlinson, the deputy ME.

  “What’ve we got?”

  “One vic in the backyard, possibly bludgeoned.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Gonzo took him to the body, glancing again at his face and head, which had borne the brunt of the attack. The grass around him was soaked with blood.

  “Yikes.” Byron crouched for a closer look, using a flashlight to scan the body from top to bottom. “You took photos?”

  “Yes,” Gonzo said. “Do you agree that it seems as if the attack happened out here?”

  “I think that’s a safe assumption.”

  Byron signaled for his colleagues to bring the body bag and gurney for transport.

  The Patrol officer Gonzo had asked to look for the murder weapon returned empty-handed. “There’s a lot of landscaping on this property,” he said. “I looked as best I could, but it was hard to see even with the flashlight.”

  “I’ll have Crime Scene take a closer look in the daylight. In the meantime, I want Patrol officers here to preserve the crime scene and provide security. I’m going to ask Mrs. Thorn to relocate with her son.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gonzo returned to Tiffany, whose tears had miraculously dried up. “I’m going to need you and your son to move to a hotel tonight.”

  “Why?” The single word was full of privilege and outrage that someone like him would tell someone like her what to do.

  This woman was pissing him off. “Because someone killed your husband, and if they come back for you and your son, I’d assume you’d rather not be here.”

  They engaged in a visual standoff that he won when she blinked.

  “Fine.”

  “Patrolman Watts will help you get settled in a hotel.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I can go to my sister’s. She lives locally.”

  “He’ll accompany you to make sure you arrive safely.”

  “I’ll need a minute to pack for myself and my son and to get him up.”

  “We’ll wait.”

  As she stormed off, Patrolman Watts said, “She’s a pleasant sort.”

  “I’ll be taking a hard look at her.” Gonzo wished he had more to go on than a hunch that she was involved so he could transport her to HQ. Since she had an alibi, he needed evidence he didn’t have yet before he could do that. He’d confirm her alibi the first chance he got. “Are you okay to wait for her and make sure she gets to her sister’s?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Let me know if you see or hear anything I should know about.”

  “Will do.”

  As he walked toward his car, he put through a call to Sam.

  “Mmm, what?”

  “Sorry to wake you, but Tiffany Thorn is making noise about accusing you and Nick of arranging her husband’s murder. I think I talked her out of going to the press with that, but I’m not entirely sure, so I figured I’d give you a heads-up.”

  “’Kay.”

  “Sam? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did I say?”

  “Thorn’s wife thinks we did it and is going to the press.”

  “Yes. You should probably tell Nick’s people to be on alert.”

  “I will. In the morning. Thanks for calling.”

  The line went dead.

  “Welp, I did what I could,” he said as he started his car and headed for HQ to do some digging on Mrs. Tiffany Thorn—and her husband.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cameron hadn’t intended to sleep at Gigi’s place, but somehow, he’d ended up wrapped around her with a blanket over them as they slept together on her sofa. The feel of her pressed against him caused a predictable reaction that he hoped she wouldn’t notice. She was still recovering from her injuries and didn’t need him and his hard cock disturbing her.

  He needed to get moving so he could go home and change before he had to be at work.

  She roused when he started to move.

  “Sorry to disturb you, but I have to go to work.”

  She turned onto her back and smiled up at him. “We fell asleep.”

  All he wanted to do was spend the entire day kissing her. “I see that.”

  She reached up to run a finger over his jaw, her touch like a bolt of lightning through his entire body. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “So do I.” As she bit her lip and gazed up at him, Cameron was tempted to call in sick for the first time in his professional career. But with the Tappen case at a standstill and Sam trying to get away for a couple of badly needed weeks off for the holidays, he couldn’t do that. “I’ll take a few days off after Christmas. We can go somewhere to rest and relax.”

  Her dark eyes glittered with excitement. “That’d be great.”

  “Where should we go?”

  “Out to the mountains where we can snuggle in front of a fireplace while it snows outside.”

  “I’ll see what I can do to make that happen.”

  “Is this real, Cam? Are we really together now?”

  “It’s as real as it gets, and we’re absolutely together.”

  “I still can’t believe that you wanted me this way and never said anything.”

  “We were both with other people. The time wasn’t right.”

  “And it’s right now?”

  He smoothed the dark hair back from her face. “Nothing has ever felt more right to me than being with you, but I don’t want to rush you into something you might not be ready for.”

  She thought about that for a second before she replied. “I’ve been with Ezra my entire adult life, and all that time, I was trying to make it work with him because I thought I had to do that. I thought that constant struggle to make our relationship work the way it was supposed to was normal, but I know now that nothing about it was normal. It was over between us long before the night he hurt me. I think everyone in my life knew that but me—and him. My mom and sister are so glad it’s over between us—and they were before he took my mom and nephews hostage.”

  “I’m so sorry you went through all that, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not.”

  He tipped his head. “No?”

  “Nope. If I hadn’t gone through what I did with him, I might not realize that this, with you, is something very special.”

  Even though he didn’t have time, Cameron put his arms around her and held her close. “It’s very special, which is why I want to be careful with you. Things are crazy for you, and the last thing I want to do is make anything worse.”

  She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. “Don’t you see, Cameron? You’re what’s making everything better.”

  He needed to leave her, but how could he do anything other than kiss her after she said that to him? For the longest time, he’d suspected it could be this way between them, but with Gigi in a long-term relationship, he’d allowed himself to get involved with Jaycee.

  He could see now that’d been a huge mistake—for more reasons than just the fact that she was obviously unstable if she’d do what she did the night before. But it had also been unfair to both of them when his heart was yearning for someone else.

  Gigi broke the kiss and smiled up at him. “You need to go to work.”

  Cameron glanced at the time on his watch and winced. “Would you mind if I borrowed your car and your shower? I don’t have time to go home and change.” He’d be going to work in jeans and a Henley for the first time ever, which would set tongues to wagging, but he couldn’t be bothered to care what anyone else thought. Not when he was finally with the woman he’d wanted from the first time he ever laid eyes on her.

  “Yes, you can borrow my car and my shower, and if you want to leave Jeffrey here, I’ll ask my sister to bring me some food for him.”

  “Jeez, you’ve got me forgetting all about my poor son.”

  “I’ll take good care of him today.” She ran a hand over his chest. “Mr. Pressed and Polished is going to start a scandal showing up in the pit wearing a Henley and jeans.”