After the twins were settled in the bed they still shared despite having their own rooms at the White House, Sam and Nick went to check on Scotty and found him snuggled up to Skippy in his bed.

  “I thought we agreed she’s not allowed in the bed,” Nick said, seemingly trying to be stern and failing miserably. They could both see how happy the dog made their son.

  “I tried telling her she’s not allowed, but she keeps ending up here.”

  “You’re supposed to be in charge,” Nick said.

  “She has a mind of her own.”

  “Typical woman,” Nick muttered with a wink and smile for his wife.

  “Easy, mister,” Sam said. “Push over and let me in.”

  Scotty rolled his eyes but made room for her to sit next to him, her back against his pillows.

  “How’re you doing?”

  He shrugged. “It’s hard to make sense of someone shooting kids who were there to see Santa.”

  “Sure is,” Nick said, sighing as he stretched out across the foot of the bed.

  “Why would someone do that?” Scotty asked.

  “We’re fairly certain there was a mental health component, as there often is when these things happen.”

  “How does someone with mental health problems end up with a gun so they can do that to so many people?”

  “That’s a very good question and one the FBI and ATF will be investigating.”

  “What’s the ATF?”

  “The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.”

  “That’s an odd combination of things.”

  Nick pulled his phone from his pocket. “Here’s what the website says. ‘ATF is a law enforcement agency in the United States’ Department of Justice that protects our communities from violent criminals, criminal organizations, the illegal use and trafficking of firearms, the illegal use and storage of explosives, acts of arson and bombings, acts of terrorism, and the illegal diversion of alcohol and tobacco products. We partner with communities, industries, law enforcement, and public safety agencies to safeguard the public we serve through information sharing, training, research, and use of technology.’”

  “That’s interesting,” Scotty said. “So it’s their job to figure out where and how the guy got the gun, then?”

  “Both them and the FBI, among other law enforcement. We’ve deployed the full resources of the federal government to assist local law enforcement as needed.”

  “It’s cool that you can do that,” Scotty said.

  “That’s what the government is here to do—to help people who need it. We don’t always succeed in that mission, but in cases like this, our role is pretty clear-cut.”

  “Will you have to go there?”

  “I suppose we will, but not right away. Taking me anywhere requires a massive security presence at the federal, state and local levels, and they have their hands full right now with the situation they’re dealing with. They don’t need me coming in to make their jobs harder. But we’ll go when the time is right.”

  “It’s nice of you to think of that stuff.”

  “If it was just me and Mom, we’d be on a plane tonight, but nothing is ever that simple for us anymore.”

  “I saw what you said earlier about guns and stuff, and I hope you can get something done.”

  “Personally, I think we’ve been approaching it all wrong by making it about the guns,” Sam said. “We need to make it about the people who shouldn’t have access to guns. We need a vastly expanded mental health network in this country, a central reporting site where people can anonymously report people showing concerning or violent behavior, and then have mental health professionals intervene rather than law enforcement.”

  Nick tipped his head as he studied her. “How’d you like to head up my Mental Health and Violence Task Force?”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “As if.”

  “Your approach is exactly what’s needed. Less reactiveness and more proactiveness. We need people who understand the issue, who see the results of our failings in this regard every day. You’d be the perfect person to head up this effort.”

  “You’re serious,” Sam said, stunned.

  “Dead serious. I bet the department would even be willing to make this role an official part of your duties, since it dovetails so perfectly with your day job.”

  “Which requires most of my waking hours. When do you see me having time to fit in something else?”

  “Gonzo is back to full duty and could take on a little more responsibility to give you time to work on this important issue. Think about it. Nothing has to be decided today.”

  “I think you should do it, Mom. You’d be really good at it.”

  “I appreciate the votes of confidence.”

  “Will you think about it?” Nick asked.

  “I will.”

  Nick smiled widely.

  “I didn’t say I’d do it!”

  “Just getting you to think about something is a big win,” Scotty said.

  “You hush,” she said, elbowing him playfully.

  He grunted and then laughed.

  “If you need to talk about any of this, you know where we are, right?” Nick asked Scotty.

  “I know where you are. The whole world knows where you are.” He ran his fingers through Skippy’s silky hair as she slept next to him. “Are we still having our Christmas party?”

  “I suppose we will, but we’ll keep it low-key out of respect for the victims and their families,” Nick said.

  “You’re good at this being-president thing,” Scotty said.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Duh, everyone thinks so.”

  “Well, no, not everyone,” Nick said. “I have plenty of people who are picking apart everything I do and say.”

  Scotty shrugged. “That’s politics for you. Most people think you’re awesome, and by the way, I was thinking about that bet we made about you being president in four years and have decided you owe me a hundred bucks, because it happened even sooner than I said.”

  Sam lost it laughing, appreciating the levity Scotty brought to their lives at times like this when they badly needed it. “He’s got you there, Dad.”

  “You’re supposed to be on my side at all times,” Nick reminded her.

  “I am, except for when I’m on his.”

  “Best mom ever,” Scotty said.

  Hearing him say those words, Sam felt like she’d been hit straight in the heart with the sharpest of arrows. “Surely that can’t possibly be true.”

  “It’s true. You’re tied for first with my other mom.”

  “I’m very honored to be tied for first with her and to get to be your mom.” Sam kissed the top of his head and stood before she made a fool of herself sobbing all over him. She’d yearned for so long to be a mother. Although it hadn’t happened the way she’d thought it would, she wouldn’t trade being this boy’s mother for anything in the world. “Sleep tight. I love you, and I’ll make sure you get your C-note from Dad.” Standing in the doorway, she waited for Nick.

  “Love you, too.”

  “We’ll see you in the morning,” Nick said, giving Scotty a fist bump.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think I could go with you guys when you go to see the families of the people who died?”

  “That might be a lot for you to handle,” he said.

  “I’d be okay. I’ve been through some stuff of my own. I understand what they’re going through.”

  “I suppose you do, but I honestly think this might be too much for you,” Nick said. “Hell, it’ll be too much for us.”

  “It’s very nice of you to offer to go, though,” Sam said, dreading that trip with every fiber of her being even though she knew they had to do it. After recently losing her father, her emotions were still raw, but she’d never let Nick do that trip alone. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Don’t stay up too late,” Nick added. “Love you.”

  “Love you guys, too.”

  When they went into their suite of rooms at the end of the same hallway that housed the Lincoln Bedroom and closed the door, Sam retrieved the monitor that kept tabs on the twins in their bedroom and put it on the table in the sitting room. “I need a drink so badly after this day.”

  “Right there with you.”

  “Can we turn on the TV to see the latest?”

  “Yeah, I suppose we should be keeping an eye on it.”

  “I wish we didn’t have to.”

  “Me, too.”

  The butlers kept them well stocked in everything they could want or need. Sam went to the elegant bar cart in the corner of the room and fixed a white wine for herself and bourbon for Nick. She brought their drinks to the sofa and sat next to him, curling her feet under her as they tuned into CNN’s coverage of the horror in Des Moines.

  Anderson Cooper was interviewing grief-stricken parents who’d lost all three of their children along with the husband’s mother, who’d taken them to the event. Pictures of the adorable kids and their grandmother were shown on the screen as their parents talked about each of them through gut-wrenching sobs.

  “How do they go on after this?” Nick asked softly.

  “I have no idea. It’s unbearable.”

  Sam’s cell phone rang with a call from Dispatch, which made her groan as she put down her still-full glass of wine. “Holland.”

  “Lieutenant, Patrol is reporting that a body has been found in an abandoned vehicle on Second Avenue Southeast. Are you able to respond?”

  The word no was on the tip of her tongue. She’d checked out of work to be available for Nick, but for now, he’d done what he could to address the tragedy, and duty was calling her back to work. “I’m on my way,” she said. “Please contact Detective Carlucci as well.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Carlucci’s partner, Detective Dominguez, was still on medical leave after a recent domestic altercation with her now-ex-boyfriend that had resulted in a ruptured spleen.

  Sam ended the call and turned to Nick. “I’m sorry I have to go into work.”

  “It’s okay. I appreciate you being here earlier.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  “Can you come to Iowa with me sometime in the next few days?”

  “I’ll make that happen.” Somehow. She drew him into a kiss. “Try to get some rest tonight. It’s going to be a long week.”

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  “Do you think we ought to cancel the holiday festivities?”

  “Not yet.” Their plan was to have Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at the White House with all their closest friends and family in attendance. “After we tend to the needs of the people of Des Moines and the country, we can have a private holiday that’ll belong only to us.”

  “Are you sure that’s possible?”

  “Nope, but I’m sure we’re going to try.”

  His smile lit up his lovely hazel eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me, too. We need it.” Ten days off to spend together with their kids was the closest thing to heaven either of them could imagine, even if he’d still have to work part of every day. Three days after Christmas, they were due to head to Camp David for the first time and were looking forward to that as well.

  He gave her a tight hug before he released her. “Take care of my beautiful wife out there. She’s my whole world.”

  “I will. Don’t worry.”

  “What? Me worry?” He gave her one last quick kiss. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  In the hallway, Sam approached Nate, one of their favorite Secret Service agents. “I need to go into work.”

  “If you can give me five minutes, I’ll get a detail together for you.”

  “Thank you.” It went against everything Sam believed in to cool her heels for even five minutes when someone had been murdered in her city, but she’d promised Nick she’d allow for a detail on the job.

  So she waited.

  Chapter Five

  Ten long minutes later, she drove out of the White House gates and headed for the southeastern quadrant of the city with two agents trailing her in a black SUV. The detail was a small price to pay to keep from adding to Nick’s already considerable stress level. He’d told her he couldn’t and wouldn’t be president unless she agreed to a minimal detail when she was on the job.

  Vernon and Jimmy were the agents who trailed her during the regular workday. She had no idea who was in the car behind her now and didn’t need to know. They had their job to do, and she had hers. With traffic light that time of day, she arrived at the crime scene fifteen minutes after she left the White House and thirty minutes after receiving the phone call from Dispatch. That was thirty minutes too long, but sadly, her victim wasn’t going anywhere until she arrived.

  After double-parking a block away, she approached the yellow crime scene tape and flashed her badge to the Patrol officer who’d been put in charge of keeping people away from the Honda minivan that housed their victim.

  He raised the tape to allow Sam to duck underneath it.

  “Thank you. What’ve we got?”

  “I’m Officer Smyth, and this is my partner, Officer Linton.” Smyth, who was tall, Black and muscular, was the older of the two. Linton was a dark-haired woman with brown eyes and a curvy body.

  “An honor to meet you, ma’am,” Linton said while Smyth tried not to roll his eyes.

  “Give me the gist,” Sam said.

  “From what the neighbors tell us,” Linton said, “the Honda Odyssey van was parked here several days ago, and it’s received some parking tickets. Earlier today, one of the neighbors noticed a smell coming from the vehicle, and when she looked inside, she saw a foot sticking out from under a blanket.”

  Sam wanted to gag at the thought of what a dead body enclosed inside a car for several days would smell like. “I assume the car is locked?”

  “It is,” Smyth said. “We took the liberty of calling a locksmith. He’ll be here any minute.”

  “Good thinking,” Sam said, appreciative of anyone who saved her time on the job. She peered in the window, saw the same foot the neighbors had seen and wondered why the cops who’d ticketed the car—repeatedly—hadn’t bothered to look inside. At the front of the car, she retrieved the tickets and tucked them into her coat pocket for further investigation later. “Did you call in the plate?”

  “We did,” Linton said. “It’s registered to a Robert Tappen of M Street Northeast in Brentwood.”

  “Has it been reported stolen or missing?”

  “We’ve had no reports involving this vehicle,” Smyth said.

  “Appreciate the good work,” Sam said. “You were very thorough. I’d like to speak to the neighbor who called it in.”

  “Right this way, Lieutenant.” Linton led Sam to a woman sitting on stairs. “This is Marcie Crossman. She lives here and had noticed the van parked here for a few days before she decided to look inside. Mrs. Crossman, this is Lieutenant Holland.”

  “The first lady,” Marcie said with a small smile. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…” She gestured to the car. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing when I saw the foot.”

  “How long has the van been parked there?” Sam asked, making a note of the woman’s name in the notebook she carried with her.

  “A couple of days. I can’t say for sure when it first showed up.”

  “That helps. Is there anything else you can tell me about it?”

  “Only that it started to smell today, which is when I looked inside.”

  “Do you know anyone by the name of Tappen?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Will you please write down your name and number for me, just in case I have follow-up questions?”

  Marcie took the pad from Sam, wrote down the information and handed it back to her.

  “Thank you for your help and for calling it in.”

  “I hope you figure out who’s in there and what happened to them.”

  “Oh, we will. Don’t worry.”

  When Sam walked around the van, she found Detective Dani Carlucci peering inside the window. Tall, blonde and curvy, Dani had recently scared the crap out of Sam by going unresponsive. When they’d gone to check on her, they’d found her seriously ill from food poisoning. Sam hadn’t seen her since she’d come back to work. “Hey,” she said. “How you feeling?”

  “Better. Not one hundred percent yet, but good enough to come back to work.”

  “Salmonella is the worst, from what I’ve heard.”

  “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, except Detective Ramsey.”

  Sam laughed at the mention of their nemesis. “We wish all forms of dysentery on him.”

  “Indeed. What’ve we got?”

  Sam brought her up to speed on what she’d learned so far, waving to the Crime Scene Unit commander, Lieutenant Haggerty, as he arrived, going through the details again with him.

  “Lieutenant,” Smyth said, “the locksmith is here.”

  “Thank you, Officer Smyth. Let’s get the onlookers moved out of here before we open the doors.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The locksmith recognized Sam but didn’t make a big deal out of it, which earned him points with her. He went right to work and had them inside the van five minutes later. When the doors opened, the foul odor came rushing out, making Sam and the others gag.

  “Gnarly,” the locksmith said, summing it up with one well-chosen word.

  Inside the van, the bound, gagged body of a blonde female had been placed on the floor of the second row of seats and covered with a blanket. If not for the smell, she might never have been noticed.

  Carlucci took photos with her phone while Sam leaned in for a closer look at the victim. With the duct tape on the woman’s face, Sam couldn’t see much. However, she noted the woman’s purse, computer bag and suitcase were all still in the car, which more or less ruled out any sort of robbery motive. The only thing that she didn’t see were the car keys. After donning latex gloves, she found the woman’s wallet in her purse and found her license. Holding it up under the car’s dome light, she noted the woman’s smiling face. Her name was Pamela Tappen.