Page 51 of State of Retribution (First Family #9)

S he was still smiling when Tracy called. “Hey, what’s up?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you. What the hell, Sam?”

“I know. It’s insane.”

Tracy had recently told Sam how much she worried about her on the job—and always had—which had come as a surprise to Sam. “Are you safe from these guys?”

“I’m surrounded by Secret Service, and the department is rallying around me, too. I’m okay. Talk to me about something else, will you?”

“I was going to call you tonight to ask your advice on something.”

“Wait. Stop the presses. You want my advice?”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I. This is a big moment for the baby sister. You gotta let me enjoy it. What’s going on?”

“It’s Ethan.”

At the mention of her eleven-year-old nephew, Sam sat up out of the hunch she’d been in.

“What about him?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Are you sure you have time for this with everything going on?”

“Absolutely. Talk to me.”

“Mike and I have noticed he’s been very withdrawn lately, spending more time in his room and less time with us. He wants to be with his friends every day after school, but doesn’t want me to know what they’re doing, which of course doesn’t fly with me.”

“I should hope not. What do you know about the friends?”

“Not much. Most of them are new since he started middle school. He’s more or less dropped most of his friends from elementary school. I talked to the mom of one of his old friends the other day. She said her son misses Ethan and isn’t sure why they aren’t friends anymore.”

“Hmm. What does Mike say?”

“He thinks it’s normal. Puberty is setting in, and boys tend to go silent during the teenage years.”

Sam’s first thought was that Scotty hadn’t done that, but then again, he wasn’t your average teen. He hadn’t had a family for years before he joined theirs and was forever telling them how grateful he was.

“Mike asked him to go to a Caps game last week, which is something they used to do all the time.”

“I remember that.”

“Ethan said he didn’t feel like going.”

“I know you guys were talking about getting him a cell phone and debating whether it was too soon. What did you end up doing?”

“He has a phone for texts and calls. There’s no internet or social media on it.”

“Are you sure about that? Kids have ways around parental controls.”

“They do? For real?”

“Yeah. I can have someone here check it for you if you want. They’d know where to look.”

“I’d take you up on that if we could pry it out of his hands long enough. Mike told him he wanted to see what he was doing on it, and Ethan freaked out and told him he has a right to privacy.”

“Not at eleven, he doesn’t.”

“That’s what Mike told him, but he was so upset, we let it go. For now, anyway. But we’re rattled by the changes in him and the way he’s tied to that phone.”

“You could shut it off until he’s older and more responsible.”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to track his locations or call him if he’s away from home with friends.”

“That’s a catch-22.”

“For sure. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to ignore the red flags or signs that something is going on with him, but if he won’t talk to us, what are we supposed to do?”

“Have you considered family therapy? I could ask my colleague Dr. Trulo for a recommendation.”

“I’d welcome that. It was such a big help after what happened with Brooke, but her therapist specializes in teenage girls.”

“I’ll ask him if he knows of anyone who specializes in younger kids and boys in particular.”

“Thank you, Sam. I appreciate you listening when you have so much other crap going on.”

“I’m never too busy for you and your family. You know that.”

“I do. Thank you again. Before I let you go, I was thinking we should do a little shower for Angela before the baby comes. I think it would mean a lot to have her people around her right now.”

“I totally agree. Text me your thoughts, and we’ll set something up. I’ll put Shelby on it. She’d love it.”

“Yes, she would. I’ll be in touch.”

“I will, too, with the recommendations.”

“Talk soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Thanks for asking for my advice.”

Tracy laughed. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Not in this lifetime or the next.”

Sam was glad that Tracy was still laughing when they ended the call.

She was rattled by what Tracy had told her about Ethan, who’d always been such a happy, funny kid.

In the few times she’d seen him in recent months, she hadn’t noticed a change in him, but that didn’t surprise her.

Kids tended to save their less-savory behavior for their parents.

She’d made a point of having a close relationship with her nieces and nephews—or as close as she could with the schedule she kept.

Their family had been through a lot recently.

The loss of Skip had been followed closely by the passing of Angela’s husband, Spencer.

Both deaths had been a huge shock to Sam, a full-grown adult with coping skills.

She couldn’t imagine how the kids had felt or what they might still be feeling after losing two people close to them—and both of them suddenly.

Sam sent a text to Dr. Trulo, asking if he had recommendations for a therapist who specialized in middle schoolers, boys in particular.

She was catching up on the latest reports on all of her team’s ongoing cases when a knock brought Dr. Trulo into her office, carrying a container and the smell of something mouthwatering.

“I was just about to come see you when I got your text.” He put the container on her desk and handed her a plastic knife and fork wrapped in a napkin. “Eggplant parm from the kitchen of Anita Trulo. Be warned. It’ll ruin you for all others.”

“I stand warned, and I can’t wait to try it. Tell her thank you for me.”

“Are you kidding? She can’t wait to tell everyone she knows that she made eggplant parm for the first lady, who also happens to be my friend.”

She smiled at how cute he was.

“I also wanted to see how my friend is doing in the midst of the latest nonsense.”

“Oh, you know how it goes. Another day, another crisis of confidence.”

“Balderdash. If anyone should be confident in what they contribute around here, it’s you.”

“What the hell does ‘balderdash’ mean?”

Trulo laughed as he sat in one of her chairs. “Go ahead and eat it while it’s hot. And ‘balderdash’ is a fancy way to say ‘nonsense.’”

“Ah, I see. Learn something new every day.”

“It’s all nonsense, Sam. I hope you know that.”

“Try telling that to the families of the people they killed and the woman who was raped in the name of retribution against me and Archelotta.”

“What’s this about Archie?”

“He was the one who traced Offenbach’s phone and put him in Atlantic City with his mistress when he was supposed to be in Philly. They kidnapped and assaulted his new girlfriend as part of their campaign of terror.”

“Good Lord.”

“How is it possible that these people walk among us as we at least try to uphold the law?”

“It’ll never make sense, but it happens in all the big departments. We don’t always hear about it, but it does happen.”

“Like this?”

“Sometimes. I can give you lots of examples from many different big departments that’ve had criminals in their midst. Naturally, it feels more personal when it’s happening to your department.”

“How many more of them are there? Stahl, Conklin, Ramsey, Hernandez, Offenbach… When does it end?”

“As long as human beings are wearing the badge, it’ll never end.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.” Sam opened the lid of the container and breathed in the fragrant scents of garlic and basil.

Using the silverware he’d brought her, she cut a bite of tender eggplant.

The flavors exploded on her tongue and had her going back for a second bite right away. “Holy shit, that’s good.”

“I told you.”

“Please pass along my compliments to the chef.”

“She’ll be delighted.”

He leaned forward and put a business card on her desk. “The referral you requested.”

Sam read the name on the card: Christi Trulo-Carpenter, PhD, Family therapist .

“One of yours?”

“My eldest daughter and the mother of my first two grandchildren. She specializes in youth and family therapy.”

“Convenient.”

“I thought you might say that. She’s excellent, or I wouldn’t refer her. Is one of your kids in need of help?”

“It’s for my nephew. Tracy’s son, Ethan.”

“Ah, okay. I’ll tell Christi to expect a call from Tracy and ask that she receive VIP treatment.”

“It’s nice to have friends in high places.”

“I could say the same.”

“For all the good that does me on days like today.”

“Don’t let the bullshit get to you, Sam. Focus on the job, on the cases, on the stuff that matters and try to let the rest of it go. For every Stahl, Ramsey or Offenbach, there’re hundreds of others who admire and respect what you do.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked skeptically.

“I’m very sure. They get to say they work with the first lady. How many people in the history of the country have been able to say that who didn’t work in this building? I’ll answer that for you—zero. Trust me. They think it’s cool.”

“Judging by the support I’ve received since their insane video went live, I’m very blessed by the friends I have here.”

“Lean on us when the going gets tough and ignore the detractors.”

“I’ll do that. Thank you.”

“Any time. In other news, I’ve found an organization that’d be very happy to have the ramps from Ninth Street. Would you like me to handle that for you?”

Even though she’d known it was coming, that didn’t make it any easier to realize it was actually going to happen. “What the hell is wrong with me, getting choked up over a couple of ramps we don’t need anymore?”

“Nothing at all is wrong with you. You’ve suffered a tremendous loss, and the removal of the ramps compounds the loss. It’s the symbolism of what they represent that’s getting to you.”

“You’re right. Grief is such a bitch.”

“She sure is, but grief is nothing more than love.”