Christina and Terry were waiting for Nick when he arrived in the Oval Office by way of the East Colonnade, the only time he made it outside some days.
“We’ve got the statement ready, Mr. President.” Christina placed the sheet of paper on the Resolute Desk, which was clear of all other items.
How was it, with all the problems facing the country and the world, the first thing he had to deal with was his goddamned mother?
Nick scanned the statement. As we have said many times in the past, President Cappuano has no relationship with his mother and as such will have no comment on her arrest.
“We figured we should keep it short and sweet so there’s no room to read between the lines,” Terry said.
“That’s fine,” Nick said. “You can issue it, Christina.”
“Thank you, sir.”
After she’d left the room, Terry took a seat in the chair next to the desk. “Are you okay?” He asked as Nick’s friend and not as his chief of staff.
“It is what it is,” Nick replied. “Or, I should say, she is what she is. She’ll never change, and I gave up hoping for a real mother years ago. Thanks to your mom, I know what a real mother is.” Laine O’Connor had shown him that time and again since he first met her as a Harvard freshman when Terry’s late brother, John, had brought Nick home to Virginia.
“I talked to Dad this morning on the way in,” Terry said of retired Senator Graham O’Connor, who’d been an extra father and mentor to Nick. “They’re outraged on your behalf.”
“Believe it or not, it helps to hear that.”
“We know better than just about anyone what an asshole she is.”
Nick smiled. “Thanks for the support, friend. It means a lot.”
“Is everything okay with Sam? Things seemed tense between you guys the last time I saw her.”
“We worked it out. I wasn’t happy to be blindsided by my mother’s impending arrest, but at least I got advance notice it was coming.”
“So Sam asked Avery to investigate your mother?”
He nodded. “She said it happened during a fit of rage over that shitty interview my mother gave.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I have to say I don’t blame her for being furious about that interview. It was a total hatchet job.”
“Anyway, enough about her. I’m sure there’s real work to be done.”
“Plenty of it,” Terry said as he stood. “We’re due to the morning security briefing in the Situation Room in ten minutes.”
Nick grabbed the binder he’d taken “home” the night before that he’d marked with questions and thoughts for the briefing, which he thought of as the little shop of daily horrors. If people knew what really went on in the world, no one would feel safe anywhere. He’d liked it better when he hadn’t known such things.
“May I get you something to drink?” Sam asked Graciela when they had her settled in the conference room at HQ. “Water or coffee?”
She shook her head and reached for another tissue from the box Sam had placed on the table. “No, thank you.”
“Detective Cruz is calling your son and Liliana’s sister. Is there anyone local I could call to come in to be with you?”
“My neighbor Bertie Dawson. She’d come.”
Sam wrote down the number Graciela gave her. “I’m going to step out for just a minute, but I’ll be right back.”
Graciela nodded as if she couldn’t care less what Sam did. And who could blame her for not caring? The people she’d loved best were gone forever.
Leaning against the cinderblock wall outside the conference room, Sam made the call to Bertie. “Is this Bertie Dawson?”
“Yes.”
“This is Lieutenant Sam Holland with the DC Metro Police Department.”
“You’re the first lady!”
Sam closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Yes, I am. I’m here with Graciela Blanchet.”
“Why is she with the police?”
“Her son Marcel and his family were found dead in their home a short time ago.”
Bertie let out a scream of dismay. “Oh God, no! Not the babies, too. Oh no, no, no. Poor Graciela. They were her whole life.”
“Is there any chance you might be able to come to our headquarters building to sit with her while we interview her?”
“Why are you interviewing her? She had nothing to do with it.”
“She’s helping us to gather information we need to begin our investigation. She’ll be here awhile and could use a friend, as her other son is in Richmond.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.”
Sam slapped her cell phone closed but took none of the usual satisfaction from the smacking sound.
Captain Malone came to a stop in the hallway, seeming surprised to see her there. “I heard it was ugly,” he said.
She nodded. “I’m back with the grandmother.”
Freddie came from the pit to join them. “I made the calls to Marcel’s brother and Liliana’s sister.” He looked pale-faced and drawn after what had to have been horrible conversations. “They’re on their way.”
“Thanks for taking care of that.”
“Sure.”
“Update me,” Malone said.
Sam took him through the facts of the case thus far.
Malone grimaced. “Christ, four little kids.”
“Marcel Blanchet’s mother, Graciela is in the conference room. She insists there was no way that Marcel could’ve hurt his family. By all accounts, he was a devoted husband and father. However, she did tell me that he suspected his wife was having an affair. We’ll look into that next.”
“Keep me in the loop, and I’ll ask Dr. Trulo to check in with your squad.”
Sam was about to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but she stopped herself when she caught the haunted expression on her partner’s face. “Thanks.” She’d like to think she’d learned a few things about what happened when emotions got buried on this job. “Let’s get back to it, Detective Cruz.”
When they returned to the conference room, Graciela was sobbing into tissues. “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what I should do.”
“We’ll walk you through every step, Mrs. Blanchet,” Sam said, even though their help would hardly fix the disaster that had befallen the woman. It was all Sam could do for her and the rest of their family.
Sam returned to her seat across the table. “Do you feel up to talking a bit more?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
As the woman dabbed at her face with tissues, Sam scanned her notes. “You mentioned that Marcel thought his wife might be having an affair. What can you tell me about that?”
“Things had been strained between them lately.” She wiped away more tears. “I’d noticed it and asked Marcel if everything was all right. He said he started to wonder if she had someone else.”
“Do you know if he did anything about that?”
“I’m not sure. We talked about it last week, and I was going to ask him about it the next time we talked.”
Sam made a note to ask Lieutenant Archelotta in IT to dump Liliana’s phone first. “Prior to this, how would you describe their marriage?”
“Loving,” Graciela said softly. “They were crazy about each other from the start.”
“Where did they meet?”
“In college at UVA. Marcel went to medical school there, as well, while Liliana went to law school at American. They’ve lived in the District since they finished school fifteen years ago now.”
“Did something change between them recently?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but there’d been tension. Their oldest daughter, Eloise, was an Olympic-caliber gymnast. The demands of her competitions and training put strain on the entire family.”
Sam made a note to investigate the daughter’s gymnastics situation, especially in light of the fact that she had three bullet wounds while her siblings each had one. “Was there anything else going on that you knew of that might’ve led to murder?” She still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a murder-suicide, but Graciela’s conviction that Marcel never would’ve harmed his family would have Sam casting a wider net.
“Nothing that I can think of. They’re all well-liked by their colleagues and peers. They have a wide circle of friends. I just can’t imagine who’d want to harm them.”
A knock on the door sounded.
“Come in.”
Freddie poked his head in. “Mrs. Blanchet’s friend is here.”
“She can come in.”
Bertie was as round as she was tall. Her Black face was so youthful that only her gray hair gave away her age. The two women hugged.
“Thank you for coming,” Graciela said tearfully.
“Of course I came. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Graciela leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll figure it out. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” To Sam, Bertie said, “What else do you need from us?”
Sam went through the usual list of routine questions about the family’s closest circle of friends and family, their daily routines and the kids’ school information.
After about two hours of questioning, she could see the older woman was beginning to tire. “The medical examiner will perform autopsies, which is standard in a situation such as this, and then we’ll release the bodies to a funeral home. You’ll need to choose one.”
“Green’s on Mass Ave handled the arrangements when my husband passed,” Bertie said. “They were caring and compassionate.”
“That’s fine,” Graciela said.
Sam made a note of the funeral home owned by Detective Cameron Green’s family. “I’ll pass that on to Dr. McNamara, the ME.” She pushed her business card across the table. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant, or if I can be of any assistance to you and your family, please call me. My cell number is on the back of the card.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s amazing,” Bertie said, gazing at Sam as she retrieved the business card from the table.
“What is?” Sam asked, though she suspected she knew what Bertie would say.
“That you’re the first lady and a police detective.”
Sam shrugged. “I had this job long before I was first lady.”
“You’re setting an amazing example for working mothers.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t mention that she felt guilty all the time for the time she spent away from her children. “I can ask someone from Patrol to give you a ride home.”
“That’s all right,” Bertie said. “I have my car. I’ll see Graciela home and stay with her until her son arrives.”
Sam walked them out and said goodbye at the main door. When she turned to head back to the pit, Chief Farnsworth was waiting for her.
“Heard you caught a tough one today.”
“Horrible.”
“Murder-suicide?”
“I’m not fully convinced. We’re looking at it from all angles.”
“I’m sure you’ll do the usual thorough job.”
“We’ll have to back-burner the Stahl stuff while we work this case.”
“Understood.” He tipped his head to study her more closely. “Are you all right, Sam?”
She realized the question was coming from her uncle Joe and not her chief. “I’m trying to be.”
“But?”
“It’s a lot, you know?”
“What is?”
“All of it.”
“You didn’t take much time off after Spencer died. Maybe you should take a few days.”
“No time for that with a new case.”
“There’s always time for that. Your very capable team could step in for you.”
“Hasn’t come to that.”
“But if it does, take the time. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir.” He was always looking out for her, which she appreciated.
“Keep me in the loop on the new case.”
“I will, sir.”
Sam went back to the pit.
Freddie stood when she came in. “Cam is on the way in with cell phones and other electronics. I notified Archie that they’re coming.”
“Great, thanks. Did they get anything from the neighbors?”
“Some leads on friends. I’m tracking them down now.”
“How about doorbell cams or other cameras in the area?”
“They didn’t have one, and none of the neighbors’ cams covers any part of their house. Archie is working on pulling film from our cameras in the neighborhood.” The MPD had cameras positioned all over the District.
Sam took note of the complete lack of animation in Freddie’s voice. “Are you all right?”
He shrugged. “Define ‘all right’ after what we just saw.”
“I know. It’s horrific.”
“Why’d they have to kill the kids, too? Whatever beef there was couldn’t have involved them.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said with a sigh. “These things never make sense from the outside looking in. It’s hard to say what causes someone to do something like this.”
“Are we looking hard at the father?”
“The grandmother is adamant that he never would’ve hurt his family. By all accounts, he was a devoted family man. I want to talk to the business partners in his practice.”
“Did the grandmother say any more about the wife possibly having an affair?” Freddie asked.
“Just that he’d suspected something was up. When Green arrives with the phones, let’s prioritize the wife.”
“I’ll send him and Archie a note about that. According to the next-door neighbor, the wife’s best friend was named Kelly Goodson, who lives about two blocks from the Blanchets. The neighbor said they met at the playground when their oldest kids were little.”
“Let’s talk to her and the husband’s medical partners.”
Freddie grabbed his coat and followed Sam to the morgue entrance.
Lindsey McNamara met them in the foyer. “Brutal.”
“Always is when kids are involved,” Sam said.
“Murder-suicide?”
“I’m keeping my mind open to numerous possibilities.”
“I’ll get started and get you my report ASAP.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Sam said. “We’ve called in Dr. Trulo to provide support as needed. If you need it, ask for it.”
“I will, thanks.”
Dr. Byron Tomlinson, the deputy ME, pushed a gurney with a small body bag on top through the door. For once, he had nothing to say as he nodded and went past them into the morgue.
“Lieutenant!”
Sam turned at the sound of a familiar voice.
Dr. Anthony Trulo, the MPD’s psychiatrist, walked toward them at a rapid pace. “I’m glad I caught you.”
“Hey, Doc.” He’d put her back together more than once after trauma on the job, and she’d be forever thankful to him for his support and friendship. “What’s up?”
“I’d like to meet with your team at shift change. I thought I’d include the ME and her team as well.”
In the past, Sam would’ve balked. She would’ve put the impetus on her team to ask for help if they needed it. But she’d learned they’d never ask, and that could lead to disaster. “I’ll make sure everyone is there.”
“See you then.”