Page 5 of State of Retribution (First Family #9)

T he others laughed as Sam went into her office to stash her jacket and fire up her computer, experiencing the familiar jolt of adrenaline that came with being in her place with her people doing the job she loved.

Despite the grimness of their work, it never got old for her.

Maybe that was because she loved the people she got to do that grim work with and knew they loved her right back.

That made even the most unbearable days less so than they would be otherwise.

While she often wondered what the rest of their colleagues thought of having the first lady in their midst, she hadn’t received much pushback and had decided no news was good news on that front.

The people who mattered to her, the ones she worked most closely with, were supportive, and that was all she cared about.

Sam emerged from her office and headed for the conference room, aware of Vernon following her but keeping her focus where it belonged.

The demands of the job took up all the available space in her brain on most days without worrying about what someone else was doing.

He’d promised to stay out of her way, and she believed him.

“Hope everyone who wasn’t working had a nice weekend and a happy Easter. Who wants to brief me on the new case?”

“I will.” Gonzo clicked on the space bar of the laptop to display the image of a Black woman with short gray hair and a warm smile on the screen at the front of the room.

“Lorraine Sweeny, age sixty-two, was a nurse at the Green Acres Nursing Home in Northeast, which serves a low-income population. She’d worked a three-to-eleven shift on Saturday and was attacked as she walked home from the Metro.

Her husband noticed her phone had stopped moving and went to find out what was holding her up. He found her body.”

Sam winced on behalf of the poor man who’d made such a dreadful discovery. “And we’re sure he had nothing to do with it?”

“He was despondent,” Detective Neveah Charles said. “We had him transported to the ER.”

Sam nodded. “What was the cause of death for Mrs. Sweeny?”

“Blunt force trauma to the back of her head with no defensive wounds, which means she never saw it coming,” Green said.

“Are we thinking it was random?”

“Hard to say,” Charles said. “We’re digging into her life, looking for anyone who might’ve had a beef and not finding anything other than that she was a kind, compassionate woman who gave of herself to her patients, her family and her church.

From what we can see, she went to work, came home, spent time with friends and family, went to church, rinse and repeat.

She had five young grandchildren she was very devoted to. ”

Sam’s heart ached for people she’d never met.

“We’ve added to the death toll as of twenty minutes ago,” Gonzo said.

“Thirty-six-year-old Nate Andrews, a white, married father of two, who worked at the Department of Labor as an analyst. He was out for a run in Adams Morgan later on Sunday evening when he, too, was struck from behind with an unidentified object. He was transported to GW Trauma and died this morning.”

Sam was beginning to wish the Secret Service had forbidden her return to work.

“We started looking into him yesterday since the attack was similar to Sweeny,” Green said, “but like with her, we’re not finding any motivation for murder. Early days, though.”

“There’s one more,” Gonzo said. “Twenty-two-year-old Alexa Prescott, a student at Marymount in Arlington, who worked as a waitress at a restaurant on 14 th Street. She was walking to the bus stop early this morning, after working last night, when she was hit from behind. She died at the scene.”

“Do we have any security footage from the scenes?”

“Archie’s team is on that. He’s still out tending to a personal matter.”

Sam needed to check in with her friend, who was caring for a woman he’d become close to who’d been abducted, beaten and sexually assaulted but had no memory of what’d happened.

“What’re we doing about an alert to the public?” Sam asked the sergeant.

“Captain Malone is working on that this morning with Public Affairs and will be issuing it shortly. He wants us to brief the media.”

“I’ll do that, and then I want to talk to our victims’ families,” Sam said as she stood.

“We spoke with each of them over the weekend,” Gonzo said.

“Thank you for doing that. I’d like to see them, too, just so they know I’m here and trying to get them some answers along with my very capable team.”

“Understood.” Gonzo handed her the reports on all three homicides.

“Thank you for the great work this weekend. If anyone needs to speak to Dr. Trulo, please reach out to him.” She’d learned to encourage them to seek help from the department psychiatrist as needed, rather than letting the stress build up.

“Yes, ma’am,” everyone said on the way out of the room.

Freddie Cruz hung back. “How’re you doing?”

“I’ll be better when we know who sent drones strapped with semiautomatic weapons to disrupt our event.”

“They have no clue?”

“Nothing yet. They appear to be homemade devices with no traceable components.”

“Jeez.”

“The full power of federal law enforcement is working that case, so I’m going to stay focused on our three victims.”

Freddie glanced at Vernon, positioned outside the conference room. “Your detail has moved inside.”

“For now. Abundance of caution and all that.”

“I’m sorry you guys are dealing with this insanity.”

“We’re told it comes with the butlers and the fancy digs.”

“Sorry if I’m not joking about someone trying to kill my best friends yet.”

“We’re not joking either. Just trying to keep things real while continuing to do our jobs. That’s what I need from you right now. I need you to help me keep it real. Can you do that?”

“I can try.”

She placed a hand on his chest. “I know you’re upset, and I know it’s because you love us, and we love you, too. But I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other while this is happening. It’s how I’ll survive it. You know?”

“Yeah, I get it, and I’m here for whatever you need. As always.”

“There’s tremendous comfort in that, believe me. I’ve got to do the briefing and take care of a couple of other things, and then we’ll go see the families, okay?”

“Sounds good. Well, except for the part about visiting the grieving families.”

Sam smiled. They both hated having to do that part of the job.

“Let me know what I can do to help.”

“Will do.”

She went to her office and pored over the reports from the weekend incidents.

They were filled with heartbreaking details, such as how Lorraine Sweeny was weeks away from retirement and Nate Andrews’s wife had recently given birth to their second child.

In the latest report, she learned that Alexa Prescott had grown up in foster care and was putting herself through college on a full scholarship.

Sam made note of these details so she could take them with her to the podium.

Captain Jake Malone appeared in her doorway. “Hey, welcome back. How’re you doing?”

“Having the absolute time of my life. You?”

“Same. How’s Nick?”

“He’s coping. We’re coping. What else can we do?”

“Nothing, I guess. I hear you’re giving the briefing.”

“As soon as I’m up to speed.”

“The media is ravenous, particularly since it’s cold outside.”

“What’s with this weather? It was seventy yesterday and forty today.”

“Mother Nature is in a mood, per usual around here in the spring.”

“I guess so. What’s your thought on these random attacks?” she asked.

“Not sure what to make of it yet, and we’re not getting much help from surveillance in the areas where the attacks occurred since they happened in poorly lit areas.”

“I’ll make a note of that in the briefing.”

He stepped forward and handed her a sheet of paper. “Some talking points I worked up with Public Affairs.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t need their help with that.”

“I like to make them feel needed once in a while.”

Her snort of laughter was rather inelegant, if she said so herself. “Give me five minutes to review it all again, and then I’ll brief. After that, Cruz and I are going to see the families.”

“You don’t have to do that, Sam.”

“I know, but I’m going to anyway because I’m the boss around here, and they need to know I’m engaged in their cases and that I care.”

“They’ll appreciate your involvement.”

“Even if they don’t, I’m on it, and I’m going to stay on it until we get them some answers.”

“I’ll leave you to do your thing, but please know I’m thinking of you and Nick and your family right now. We all are.”

“Thanks, Cap. We appreciate the support.”

“Onward,” he said with a wave as he departed.

Sam appreciated how he’d tended to business before expressing concern for her and Nick, knowing how she hated to be the story, especially at work.

If she allowed herself to contemplate the level of distraction she was these days, or what some of her colleagues were probably saying behind her back, she wouldn’t be able to function.

Three grieving families needed her functioning at the highest level, so she doubled down on the prep work until she felt ready for the briefing.

She took her notes with her when she left the pit to head to the main entrance.

The media gathered outside the doors year-round, in all kinds of weather, waiting for updates.

Judging by the larger-than-average crowd, they were looking for more than just information about her new cases.

Sam stood frozen for a second, trying to find the fortitude to push through the doors to face off with them—and to fend off their questions about yesterday’s events.

Chief Joe Farnsworth joined her. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

“I’d ask how you are, but…”

Sam smiled at the man she’d called Uncle Joe growing up, as he’d been her father’s best friend. “I’m just great.”

“Heard you’re doing the briefing.”

“You heard right.”

“Figured you might need some help fending off the idiots who’ll be asking about yesterday.”