The morning headlines on the TV news channels summed it up:
Joint Chiefs Plot to Overthrow Cappuano Administration.
Coverage was feverish on all the morning shows, and pictures of the highest-ranking military officers in the country in orange jumpsuits had sent the media into a feeding frenzy the likes of which Washington hadn’t seen since Watergate.
Sam came out from the bedroom wearing the white silk robe Nick had given her for Valentine’s Day last year and sat next to him on the sofa.
“Morning,” he said.
She kissed his cheek. “Morning. How bad is it?”
“About as bad as it gets. Plenty of people are calling the Joint Chiefs courageous patriots for trying to do what needs to be done, including the former secretary of State.”
“And I’m sure plenty are outraged over their disrespect for the Constitution.”
“Seems to be evenly split.”
“I’m sorry, Nick. It’s such a terrible betrayal.”
“Yes, it is, but all I can do is carry on and do the job and hope for the best.”
“No one would blame you if you called out sick today.”
“Can the president do that?”
“I would think the president can do whatever he wants.”
“That would just cause more speculation that I’m not courageous enough to show up after my military tried to overthrow me.”
“I suppose it would add to the chatter.”
“Why aren’t you getting ready for work?” he asked.
“I, um, well… I’m taking a small leave of absence.”
“What? Why? When did that happen?”
“Yesterday.”
“Start talking, Samantha.” He hated when she kept stuff from him, even if it was because he was having a hellish day. “And don’t leave anything out.”
“We caught a new case yesterday. Parents and four kids shot to death in their home. From what we’ve learned, they were a nice family with successful parents, lovely kids. A gun was left to make it look like the dad did it. It’s probably a case of murder-suicide, but we’re treating it like a possible homicide until we’re sure. Or, at least my squad will be doing that.”
“Without you.”
She nodded. “After we left the crime scene yesterday, I realized I was feeling off.”
“How so?”
“I was numb. I had no reaction to seeing four young kids dead in their beds. It was just another day on the job. No big deal. And when I asked Trulo why that might be, he said it could be because I didn’t take enough time off after Spencer died.” After a pause, she added, “You know how I was hell-bent on finding the person who sold him the laced pills.”
“And you didn’t take any time to grieve.”
“Something like that, although I didn’t think I would grieve him the way I did my dad, since we weren’t particularly close.”
“Sure you were. He was married to your sister for eight years, and she truly loved him. He was the father of your niece and nephew and part of your family. You were close to him.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. You didn’t love him the way you love Mike, but you were still close to him.”
“Something like that. It sort of threw me to realize that might be what was going on.”
Nick put his arm around her. “You’ve had a rough few months, babe. I’m not surprised it finally caught up to you.”
“I kind of am.”
“Because you always power through, but everyone has their limits, even a superwoman like you.”
“I hate having limits.”
Nick laughed as he put his arm around her. “Of course you do.”
She rested her head on his chest.
“What’re you going to do with your free time?”
“I have no freaking clue.”
“You can come to work with me.”
“Um, as appealing an offer as that is…”
Nick lost it laughing, which pleased her greatly. Keeping things light for him where she could was her most important job as first lady.
“How about I visit you at some point?”
He gave her a squeeze. “I’ll look forward to ‘some point’ all day.”
Freddie assembled the squad in the conference room. He was so nervous that he’d been unable to eat that morning, which anyone who knew him would find unbelievable. But he’d never been put in charge of a case before, and he wanted to make Sam and the other brass proud of him.
On the way into work, he’d heard the news about the Joint Chiefs and had been flabbergasted and distressed for his friend, the president, who must be reeling from the treachery. Freddie wished there was something he could do for Nick, but right now, he needed to keep his focus on the case. He’d call Sam after his shift to update her and see how they were doing. Yesterday had been one hell of a day for all of them.
Deputy Chief Jeannie McBride and Captain Malone joined the group.
“I’ve asked Dr. McNamara and Lieutenant Archelotta to brief us,” Freddie said. “They’ll be here shortly. In the meantime, let’s go over what Detective Carlucci accomplished overnight.”
“Can we talk about the headlines this morning first?” O’Brien asked. “What the actual fuck with the Joint Chiefs? Has anyone talked to Sam?”
“Not yet,” Freddie said. “I’m sure they’ve got their hands full with that, and we have six bodies in the morgue that require our attention today.” That was something Sam would say. He wanted to keep the focus where it belonged, like she would’ve done. “Back to what Carlucci uncovered.”
“She ran the family’s financials and found they were running low on money,” Detective O’Brien said. “Most of their accounts had balances below fifty dollars, except for the primary joint checking account, which had three hundred. The balances were much lower than usual. Carlucci went back about six months and found their average balance then was between fifteen and twenty thousand.”
“So cutting back on his medical practice had caused immediate financial pain,” Freddie said. “Were there any unusual expenditures over the last few months?”
“Not that she saw,” O’Brien said. “Just the usual sort of household expenses, some transfers here and there to other accounts, some jointly held and others belonging to one or the other of them. Routine stuff.”
“Carlucci also did a deep dive on the parents’ social media as well as that of the oldest daughter, Eloise,” Green said. “She couldn’t find active accounts for the younger kids. The father didn’t have much of a social presence except through the practice, which posted frequently with photos of new babies that received a lot of likes and comments. The mom posted about her kids mostly and a few memes here and there about stuff she found funny. She posted press coverage of Eloise’s meets and a few articles about her as an Olympic hopeful.
“Eloise posted about gymnastics competitions. There were quite a few posts of her with medals, and Carlucci noted an unusually high number of people clicking the angry response to those photos. Dani made a list of the people who gave the angry-face response. She found that most of them were gymnasts of the same age or their parents.”
“So the parents of other gymnasts were giving Eloise the angry emoji?” Jeannie asked. “That’s screwed up.”
“It’s bad enough the other competitors were dissing her,” Malone said. “But the parents…”
“I think, after we talk to the father’s other partner in the practice, we start there,” Freddie said. “Do you all agree?”
“I do,” Green said as the others nodded in agreement.
“Gonzo? You’re good with this plan?”
“It’s your investigation, Detective Cruz. You’re the boss.”
If they’d been alone, Freddie would’ve told his friend to cut the crap, but since they weren’t, he split the gymnasts’ parents’ names between himself and Gonzo as well as Green, O’Brien and Charles. “Let me know if anything pops.”
“Will do,” Green said as he headed out with the more junior detectives.
“Let me know if I can help,” Jeannie said.
“Same,” Malone said. “Crime Scene is still at the house. I’ll let you know if they find anything useful.”
Lindsey McNamara came in with a cup of coffee in hand. “Sorry I’m late. We just finished the last of the autopsies. I emailed the report to Sam.”
“She’s out for a bit,” Freddie said. “Can you forward it to me?”
“Is everything okay?” Lindsey asked.
“Yes,” Freddie said.
Lindsey withdrew her phone and tapped on the screen. “Sent the report to your email.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ve had a number of people tell us that certain things Marcel Blanchet had done recently were wildly out of character for him,” Freddie told Lindsey. “Is there anything medical that could’ve caused that?”
“Sure, any number of things. I can do some further testing on him before I turn the bodies over to the funeral home.”
“That’d be great. I’m not sure there’s anything to it, but I’m following a hunch.”
“It’s a good thought and definitely worth further examination. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
Archie came in looking harried and frazzled, per usual. His IT unit was one of the busiest in the department. “It’s been slow-going on the devices, but we’re making headway. We focused first on the parents’ phones as well as the older two kids who had phones. I should know more later today.”
“Thanks, Archie.”
“I heard Sam is taking a leave,” he said. “Is that true?”
“It is.” Freddie could tell Archie and Lindsey, both friends of Sam’s, wanted more info, but they’d have to get it from her.
“Please keep Detective Cruz in the loop,” Gonzo said to Archie. “He’s leading the investigation in Sam’s absence.”
“Okay.” Archie gave them both a curious look before he left the room.
“Let me know if you have any questions about my report,” Lindsey said. “They all died of gunshot wounds. Eloise was the only one of the kids shot more than once, and as I’ve already reported, the father had gunpowder residue on his right hand.”
“Thanks for the info.”
“Are you looking at it as a murder-suicide?” Lindsey asked.
“We’re keeping an open mind,” Freddie said.
“Sounds good. I’ll let you get to it.”
“Have a good day,” Freddie said as she left the room. To Gonzo, he said, “It’s not my place to explain where Sam is, right?”
“You handled that just right. They’re her friends, and they’ll reach out on their own.”
“That’s what I figured. Let me take a quick look at the autopsy reports, and then we can hit it.”
“Sounds good, boss.”
“Cut that out.”
Gonzo laughed. “Why would I do that when it makes you so uncomfortable?”
“This whole thing makes me uncomfortable.”
“It should. It’s a big deal to oversee a homicide investigation. A lot of people are counting on you.”
“No pressure much.”
“You can handle it. You’re ready, or Sam wouldn’t have put you in charge.”
“She should’ve put you in charge,” Freddie said.
“She wanted to give you the chance, and I agree it’s time.”
“You’ll make sure I don’t screw it up?”
“You won’t need me to do that. You’ve got this, Freddie.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I need it.”
“Which is why we’re giving you the chance to build your confidence. You know what to do. You’ve been training for this moment for years now.”
“I had no idea this moment would arrive so soon.”
“Sam is thrusting you out of the nest and making you spread your wings.”
“You think she’s okay?”
“She will be. In time.”
After the kids left for school and Nick went downstairs to work, Sam wasn’t sure what to do with herself. The White House staff took such good care of everything for them that there wasn’t laundry to fold or any other mundane tasks to keep her mind busy.
Her closet could use straightening, but she didn’t feel like tackling that project today.
So she poured another cup of coffee, took it to the sofa and turned on the TV to see what was going on with the Joint Chiefs story.
Former Secretary of State Martin Ruskin was doing an interview on one of the morning shows.
“If you ask me,” he said, “the Joint Chiefs have done a patriotic thing by trying to force a special election.”
“You would say that,” Sam said, “after Nick fired you for cavorting with Iranian bimbos.”
“How we find ourselves in this situation is unfathomable,” Ruskin said. “That a man only elected once to the Senate now holds the most powerful position on earth is something that should terrify every American.”
Sam wanted to throw things at the TV.
“An argument could be made that President Cappuano has every right to hold the office after the Senate confirmed him to be vice president,” the female commentator pushed back. “If President Nelson and the Senate had faith in him, shouldn’t that be enough for us?”
“It’s not enough,” Ruskin said, sputtering with outrage. “The American people deserve better.”
“How does the fact that he fired you as secretary of State play into your animosity toward him?”
Ruskin gave her an incredulous, how-dare-you-ask-me-that look. “That has nothing to do with it.”
“Right,” Sam said. “Sure it doesn’t.”
“The man is incompetent and has no business serving as president.”
“Recent polls show that more than fifty-five percent of Americans approve of the job he’s doing as president, an approval rating that’s somewhat unprecedented in modern polling. What would you say to them?”
“I’d tell them to look behind the curtain,” Ruskin said. “He’s got a polished exterior, I’ll give him that, but underneath the surface, is anything there? I don’t want to wait until one of our enemies is attacking us to find out he doesn’t have the chops.”
Sam was outraged listening to him. She found the BlackBerry and texted Nick. Ruskin is going off on you. Someone needs to shut him up.
He texted back a few minutes later. We’re working on a statement to tell the public how and why he was released from his SoS duties. We haven’t spelled out the details yet. Gonna do that now.
Good call. I’m glad you’re on it.
Don’t worry about me, babe. I can handle the heat.
I do worry about you, and I hate people. Especially Ruskin.
Haha, down, girl. What are you up to?
I’m watching daytime TV. I hear this is what people do when they don’t have jobs.
You could always spend some time in your office downstairs… If you want to, that is.
I plan to stop in to say hello later.
Excellent. Don’t forget to come by here, too.
I won’t. xo
Her other phone rang with a call from her sister Tracy. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Thought you’d like to know my baby girl got into Princeton.”
“What? Oh my God! That’s amazing news! I’m so proud of her.”
“I am, too. When I think about where she was not that long ago… And now this.”
“She must be thrilled.”
“She is, but for all the wrong reasons, of course.”
Sam laughed. Brooke wanted to transfer from the University of Virginia to Princeton in the fall so she could be with her Secret Service boyfriend, Nate, while he served as the lead on Elijah’s detail. “Nate’s a great guy. He’s worth turning her life upside down so they can be together.”
“I hope so.”
“He’s good people. We all like him.”
“That matters to her—and to me. Are you at work?”
“Nope. I’m home.”
“Thought you caught a big new case yesterday.”
“We did. Freddie is taking the lead.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“It was determined that I didn’t take enough time off after Spence died, and I might not be in the right frame of mind to effectively do the job.”
“Determined by whom?”
“Trulo and myself.”
“Really, Sam? You took yourself off the job? Have you been abducted by aliens or something?”
Sam laughed. “Nothing quite so dire. Just a strange feeling of numbness and detachment from the case of the moment had me wondering what might be wrong. So I’m taking a short break.”
“To do what?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. So far, watching daytime TV isn’t working out so well. I got to watch former Secretary of State Ruskin talk about how Nick has a shiny exterior, but there might not be anything under the surface.”
“He’s a bitter son of a bitch. Don’t listen to him. He nearly got us into a war with Iran.”
“Nick’s team is drafting a statement to tell people that, but I hate to hear someone talk about him like that.”
“They’re talking about the person who holds an office they all wish they could occupy. They’re not necessarily talking about your husband.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“It is true. How about we take lunch over to Ang and see how she’s doing?”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day. See you there around twelve thirty?”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll ask my friends the butlers to whip up something yummy for us.”
“Yay, can’t wait. See you there.”