Page 52 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

They showed their badges. “Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz. May we step inside for a moment?”

“What’s this about?” he asked as he moved aside to let them enter.

“What’s your relationship to Audrey Olsen?”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“And your name?”

“Wes Hambly.”

“Do you live here, Wes?”

“Yes, with Audrey. She’s out for a run.”

“Can we sit for a second?”

“Um, sure.” He showed them to a cozy living room with colorful pillows on the sofa bearing sayings such as “Life is Good,” “Be Positive” and “Onward and Upward.”

Those freaking pillows broke Sam’s heart.

“What’s this about?” Wes asked.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that Audrey was murdered in Rock Creek Park.”

He tilted his head as if trying to process what she’d said. “Audrey isn’t dead. You must be mistaken. She just went for a run, like an hour ago. She’s training for a marathon, so she’s gone awhile sometimes.”

Sam held up the evidence bag containing Audrey’s wallet. “Is this hers?”

“I… Yes, but… She’s not dead. She can’t be dead.”

“I’m very sorry to have to tell you that she is, but we need someone to provide a positive identification. Would you be able to come with us to do that?”

“Audrey’s really dead?” he asked, his voice wavering.

“Yes.” Sam hated this more than just about anything, but she’d learned to be direct when delivering dreadful news.

He dropped his head into his hands. “She was just here.”

They gave him a minute to get himself together. “Are there other people who should be notified?”

“Oh God, her mother… She’s the only child of a single mother.”

Fucking hell.

“If you’d like, I can call her,” Sam said, hoping he’d decline her offer.

“It… It probably should be me.”

“Where is she?”

“Pittsburgh. Audrey… She’s from Pittsburgh. We met in college at American. We’ve been together five years. What am I supposed do without her?”

Sam couldn’t begin to imagine what he would do without her. She wouldn’t wish the journey he had before him on anyone.

“Should I… Should I call her mother now?”

“I think so.” Sam ached for the mother in Pittsburgh whose life would never be the same after that phone call. “Is there someone you can ask to be with her before you call her?”