Page 18 of State of Retribution (First Family #9)

S am and Freddie were in the SUV on the way to Georgetown when the BlackBerry buzzed with a text from Nick. She fished it out of her pocket.

Hey, babe, the SS wants a minute with us in the morning. Can you be available for that?

Did they say why?

Not yet.

What time?

You tell me.

Can we do it right after the kids leave for school, so I can get to work sort of on time?

I’ll make that happen. Thanks. How’s your day going?

It’s going. Hey—I was thinking about the ramps on Ninth Street and how they should come down now that we have tenants moving in. Do you still have the number of the guy who installed ours?

I do. I’ll reach out to him. I’m sure you’ve got feelings about taking them down…

Lots of them, but Dr. Trulo is going to find someone who can use them, so that helps to take some of the sting out of it.

I wish I could hug you. I miss him so much. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.

Skippy hated waste of any kind. He’d want someone to be using those ramps, so I’m taking comfort in that. Anything new in Alaska?

Might be cause for some optimism. The building seems to have withstood the mudslide intact. There’s hope that we may find survivors. Nothing new on the drones.

So glad to hear that news from AK. How is it possible that there’s nothing new on the drones?!

I don’t know, but every resource is being deployed to figure it out. Someone went to great lengths to be undetectable.

So we may never know?

Possibly.

I don’t like that answer.

Me either. Will you be home for dinner?

That’s the plan.

OK, see you when you get here. Love you.

Love you, too.

“Vernon, why does the Secret Service want to meet with us in the morning?” Sam asked.

“I’m not in that loop yet.”

“Can you venture any guesses?”

“Perhaps an update on enhanced security in light of the incident on Monday, but don’t quote me on that.”

“What happens in the SUV stays in the SUV,” Sam said, earning a mirror grin from Vernon.

“That’s right.”

Sam didn’t want to stew over why the Secret Service had asked for a meeting, but the pit in her stomach would stay there until she knew what it was about.

She was under no illusions about the threats facing her husband and their family, but if she allowed herself to think too much about the reality of it, she’d go mad.

Monday’s incident was yet another reminder that there were people out there, probably a lot of them, who’d rather see Nick dead than give him a chance to lead the country.

Sam took advantage of the opportunity to text her sisters, her brother-in-law, Mike, her stepmother, Celia, and eldest niece, Brooke, to tell them that she and Nick were arranging for the ramps to come down on Ninth Street before tenants moved into both houses.

Dr. Trulo is trying to find new homes for them, which Dad would approve of. I wanted you guys to know so you wouldn’t be shocked to see them gone if you go to Ninth.

Thanks for handling that, Sam, Celia replied. I appreciate it, and you’re right. Your dad would want them to go to someone who needs them and maybe can’t afford them.

Ugh, Tracy said. The hits keep on coming, but you’re right. It’s time. Thanks for handling that for us, Sam (and Nick).

Sam thought about how delighted her dad had been to be able to come down the ramp at his house and roll over to hers for a visit. Nick had seen to that for them, and the ramp at their house and her dad’s regular visits had become such a source of joy in an otherwise difficult situation.

Her ringing phone drew her out of the rabbit hole of poignant memories she’d fallen into. She sat up a little straighter when she saw the name of the twins’ school on the caller ID. They would be home by now.

“Sam Cappuano.”

Freddie gave her a curious look at her use of her married name on the job.

“Mrs. Cappuano, I’m so sorry to disturb your work. This is Beatrice Reeve, head of Northwest Academy.”

“Hi, Mrs. Reeve. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, the children are fine, but we’re a little worried about Aubrey. She’s been unusually withdrawn and fearful since the incident at the White House, and we wanted to make you aware that she’s expressed some concerns for your safety and that of President Cappuano.”

Sam’s heart sank at the thought of her precious little girl being afraid. “Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear that. Is it possible for her to see Alden when she’s upset? They take great comfort in each other.”

“Yes, we’re aware of that, and we brought him into her classroom today for a visit that seemed to help.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Perhaps a conversation at home about how well protected you both are might help.”

“We’ll definitely do that. Thank you for letting me know what’s going on. Those poor kids have been through so much. I hate to think of them being afraid of it happening again.”

“It’s only natural that they’d worry. I think they would no matter who stepped up for them after their parents were murdered so senselessly.”

That might be true, but Sam knew there was much more for their children to worry about because of what she and Nick did for a living. “We’ll talk to them and consult with their therapist. I appreciate the heads-up.”

“Let’s stay in touch about this.”

“Absolutely. Thank you again for calling.”

“Everything okay?” Freddie asked after she closed her phone.

She filled him in on what was going on with Aubrey.

“Oh damn. That poor kid.”

“Sometimes I wonder if we did the right thing taking them in.”

“Why would you ever question that?”

“They’d be better off with guardians who aren’t surrounded by threats and security and everything that goes with that.”

“That’s not true. They’re better off with you and Nick and Scotty. You love them, and they know it. That’s what they need more than anything.”

“I agree with Freddie,” Vernon said.

“Me, too,” Jimmy added.

“I love them so much. We all do. But I hate to think that being with us is adding to their already considerable trauma.”

“They’ve seen a therapist, right?” Freddie asked.

“Yes, for months after their parents died. We all agreed that we could scale back the appointments after a while because she felt they were adjusting beautifully and doing much better.”

“Maybe a check-in with her would be advisable,” Vernon said.

“Yes, for sure. I need to update Nick and Eli.” She withdrew the BlackBerry to send the text.

Nick wrote back a few minutes later. Sure hate to hear that.

That’s how I feel, too.

I’m sorry to hear it, too, Eli said . I was about to text you guys that I heard from Andy this morning, and he has the adoption paperwork ready for us to review.

Great news, Nick said .

Sam was thrilled by the idea of adopting them, but after Monday’s events and this news from school, she hoped they were doing the right thing for the kids.

She dashed off a text to the twins’ therapist, updating her on the latest and asking for advice on how best to handle the situation.

Rebecca was good about getting back to her and would know what to do.

Sam also texted her mom and Shelby to let them know Aubrey had had a tough day and might need some extra TLC.

She desperately wished she could go home to be with her, but she couldn’t leave work with so much left to do.

We’re on it, Shelby replied a few minutes later.

Absolutely, Brenda said.

Thank you both.

When the SUV arrived at the Georgetown apartment building where Joe and Deb lived, Sam was forced to put her personal dilemma on hold after Vernon, Jimmy and the other agents concluded a sweep and declared the building safe for her to enter.

The sheer madness of waiting while other law enforcement officers ensured her safety would’ve sent her over the edge if she didn’t remind herself, every time, that she was putting up with the security because Nick had asked her to.

The delays made her crazy when there was so much ground to be covered in a given day. “I’m becoming too much of a distraction,” she said to Freddie.

“What? No, you’re not.”

“We’ve burned more than thirty minutes that we don’t have to waste waiting for random buildings to be declared safe for me to enter.”

“No one knows that but you and me, and I’m sure as hell not saying anything about it. Don’t worry about crap that doesn’t matter.”

“If anyone else was sitting like a princess in a fortified SUV outside a building, waiting to talk to a potential witness, we’d cry foul.”

“Think about what you bring to the investigations. Like the fact that we’re here to talk to this woman because you asked Harlowe the right questions.”

“You would’ve gotten here eventually.”

“It never would’ve occurred to me to ask her the last thing she remembers.”

“Yes, it would have.”

“I was focused on what she was doing in DC, where she’s from, where she lives in the city. That kind of thing. I wasn’t thinking about taking it back to the last memory. You did that.”

“Well, you’re very kind to say so, but I still hate the time being wasted when we have three bodies in the morgue and a traumatized young woman who may or may not be our fourth victim.”

“Don’t sweat the stuff you can’t control. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. We’re working the case, doing the job, even if it takes a tiny bit longer than usual. It’s no big deal.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now knock it off.”

Sam laughed and realized she felt a little better.

Vernon returned to the SUV, opened the back door and signaled for them to come with him.

They took an elevator to the couple’s third-floor apartment, where two agents Sam didn’t recognize were positioned outside the open door.

“Hey, I’m Joe. Come in.” The man was tall and handsome, with sandy-brown hair, brown eyes and a lean build.

“This is my partner, Detective Cruz, and Secret Service Agent Vernon Rogers,” Sam said as Vernon followed her and Freddie inside. “Sorry for all the uproar.”

“No problem. It’s not every day that the first lady stops by.”

She showed him her badge as a formality. “I’m in detective mode right now.”