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  “It would be cool to have your dad’s old job, though.”

  “That’s the only part of it that would’ve been cool. The rest would suck. I’d be off the streets, pushing paper, dealing with City Hall and even more department bullshit than I have to contend with now. Ugh, no, thanks.”

  “What’d the chief have to say about it?”

  “He agreed that my ‘talents,’ such as they are, are more useful in Homicide.”

  “That’s a fact.”

  “Not to mention I’d die sitting in an office all day.”

  “That’s also a fact.”

  “I just hate the feeling that I’m fighting on all fronts for my right to do what I do. It’s exhausting.”

  “You’re blazing a new trail as the first president’s wife to hold a job outside the White House.”

  “I want to live in a world where that’s not big news.”

  “It’ll be awesome for you to continue on the job while also using your enormous platform to advance the issues that matter to you.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “It’s easier for you to do this because you’re not moving to a new city the way most of them do. So it makes sense that you’re the right one to lead this new movement of modern first ladies—and maybe even first gentlemen, eventually—pursuing their own careers while their husbands—or wives—are in office.”

  “I’d be all for leading that movement. Where is it written that the wife has to give up her entire life to support her man?”

  “It’s not written anywhere. It’s tradition.”

  “Well, fuck tradition.”

  “Do me a favor and keep that thought between us.”

  “Duh. I’m not about to say that to anyone else. But I do intend to live that as my mantra for the next three years.”

  “Looking forward to watching that show.” He finished the first pack of doughnuts, chased them with a bottle of chocolate milk and opened a second package.

  “You’re revolting.”

  He burped loudly. “Huh? What’d I do?”

  “Your diet is disgusting.”

  “Don’t be a jealous cow. You’d be face-first in the doughnuts if you could eat anything you wanted.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Liar.”

  “Pig.”

  “Jealous cow.”

  That, right there, was what she needed when everything around her was spinning out of control. She needed him, her beloved partner and the little brother of her heart, to keep things “normal” with the friendly bickering that made up their days together. She also needed a body in the morgue and threads to pull to keep things normal, and since she had both, today was looking up.

  After parking at GW Hospital, she put through a call to Dr. Anderson. “We’re here.”

  “Come in through the ER. I’ll meet you.”

  “Be right there.”

  As they got out of the car and headed for the ER entrance, Sam was thankful to have a friend on the inside who could help her navigate the privacy maze that made it difficult to get to patients.

  Sam was aware of Vernon and Jimmy following her, but she ignored them and put her focus on the case at hand. The high she got from doing this job couldn’t be achieved by anything else, except maybe the high that came from loving and being loved by her husband. She needed the job the way she needed oxygen. It fed her soul to chase justice on behalf of those who needed it most.

  When she walked into the busy Emergency Department waiting room, the entire place went silent as people stared at her with unbridled disbelief. As step one of her fuck-tradition campaign, she had to pretend to be unbothered by the attention. She showed her gold badge to the receptionist, who gawked right along with everyone else.

  “Lieutenant Holland to see Dr. Anderson. He’s expecting me.”

  “I… um…”

  Before the receptionist could wet herself, Anderson came out from the back and waved at Sam and Freddie to follow him.

  “I come with an entourage now,” she said, gesturing at the agents who were hot on her heels.

  “Come on back.” Anderson led them to a bank of elevators at the far end of the Emergency area. “I confirmed she’s still in the ICU. Second floor.”

  “Thanks, Doc. Appreciate the assist.”

  “Whatever I can do to make your life easier, Lieutenant.”

  “Why can’t everyone cooperate with me that way, Detective Cruz?”

  “Am I required to answer that question?” Freddie asked.

  Anderson cracked up laughing.

  She pushed the up arrow to summon the elevator. “Don’t laugh at his impertinence. It only encourages him.”

  “We should talk sometime, Detective,” Anderson said to Freddie. “I bet we could share some good stories.”

  She stepped into the elevator. “He won’t be doing that because he’s very busy working for me. Thanks for paving the way for me here.”

  “Always a pleasure to be of assistance, Lieutenant.”

  As the doors started to close, she waggled her fingers at the good doctor.

  “You ruin all my fun,” Freddie said.

  “That’s my other goal in life.”

  On the second floor, Sam turned to Vernon and Jimmy. “Can you please wait for us here?” she asked, gesturing to the waiting room.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sam went to the nurses’ station, showed her badge and asked for Shanice. “I understand this isn’t the best possible time, but we’re investigating a homicide, and we very much need to speak to her.”

  “Let me check with her doctor. One minute, please.”

  Sam gave the nurse credit for doing her job and not acting the fool at having the first lady turn up at her workplace. Perhaps over time, as people became accustomed to her continuing to do her job the way she always had, there’d be more like her and fewer like the one downstairs.

  “What if we can’t talk to her?” Freddie asked quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “We’ll find some of her people and see what they can tell us.”

  The nurse returned seven minutes later. Sam knew that because she passed the time by watching the big black-and-white wall clock. “Right this way.”

  Sam gave Freddie a pleased look as they followed the nurse to a room with glass walls. Inside the room, the relentless beeping of the machines attached to Shanice rattled Sam’s nerves. She had no idea how medical professionals could stand to listen to that all day long. The beeping would drive her mad.

  Shanice watched them with big, frightened brown eyes.

  Sam noted that the wound on her neck was covered with thick bandages. She showed Shanice her badge. “I’m Lieutenant Holland. I was there last night.”

  Shanice licked dry lips. “I remember.”

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  “Eddie… His friends… They came to our apartment and wanted him to go with them.” She took a couple of deep breaths.

  “What’s the address of your place?”

  Shanice recited the address. Sam realized it was near the house where Clarence Reese had killed his family two years ago in Southeast.

  “Let’s request a warrant and get Crime Scene there,” Sam said.

  Freddie got busy on his phone, seeing to her orders.

  The nurse held a straw to Shanice’s lips so she could take a sip of water.

  “He didn’t want to go. They… One of them pulled a gun and pointed it at me. He… he told me to take off my clothes. Eddie, he told them to fuck off and leave me out of it. One of them grabbed me and ripped off my clothes.” Tears rolled down her face. “They made him watch while they took turns with me.” Her chest seized with sobs that made her wince in pain.

  “Shh.” The nurse gently wiped away the young woman’s tears. “Take it easy.”

  “How many men were there?” Sam asked.

  “Five,” Shanice said softly.

  “Was a ra
pe kit performed?” Sam asked the nurse as she boiled with rage over what those men had done to this young woman.

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll need to get that to our lab.” She glanced at Freddie, silently giving him the order to see to that. To Shanice, she said, “Did you know these men?”

  “One of them. Kelvin Evans. I didn’t know the others.”

  Freddie would text the name to Gonzo.

  “Can you describe them? Any distinguishing features would help.”

  Shanice gave them descriptions of each of the men, her voice catching repeatedly as she was forced to recall the horror of the attack.

  Freddie typed on his phone, capturing the information she was providing.

  “What happened next?”

  “They forced us out of the apartment and made us get in a car. One of them held a knife to my neck to keep me quiet.”

  So that was how she’d gotten cut.

  “While we were in the car, one of them stabbed Eddie, and then they pushed us out of the car.”

  “Could you identify the one who stabbed him if you had to?”

  “No, I couldn’t tell who it was. They were in the front seat. I was in the back.”

  “Were they arguing with him before they stabbed him?”

  “No, they just did it and tossed us out of the car.”

  “How did the knife end up with you?”

  “I pulled it out of his chest before I went to hide. I was afraid they’d come back, so I took it for protection.”

  “Do you know anything at all about why they’d do this to Eddie and to you?”

  “He owed them money.”

  “How much?”

  “More than twenty-five thousand.” She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “He lied to them. He told them he had the money, but he didn’t. When Kelvin figured that out, he got really, really mad.” Her hands shook violently, so she clasped them together over her lap.

  The nurse eyed the beeping monitors. “We need to wrap this up.”

  “Why did he owe them the money?”

  “They’d given him drugs to sell for them, and he was supposed to get them at least twenty-five, but he’d gotten half that.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell us that might help us find the men who hurt you and killed Eddie?”

  “No, but I’m so afraid of them. If they find out I talked to you, they’ll kill me.”

  “We won’t let that happen.”

  Freddie left the room to see to getting Patrol officers there to guard her.

  “We’re going to put a couple of officers outside your room, and when you’re released, we’ll provide protective custody. They’re not going to hurt you again. Is there anyone else we should contact about Eddie’s death?”

  “Just his parents, but they don’t talk to him.”

  “They already know.”

  “There isn’t anyone else. It’s just been the two of us for a long time.”

  “What about your family?”

  Her eyes closed for a second. “We’re not in touch.”

  “You must have a friend or someone we could call for you.”

  When Sam looked at the nurse, she shrugged, as if she’d maybe tried and failed to get that info.

  “I used to have friends, but not so much now. Eddie and I… It was just us.”

  “Is that the way Eddie wanted it?” Sam asked, working a hunch after hearing there’d been multiple domestic calls to their place.

  “He… he said we were better off going it alone.”

  So he’d isolated her from her family and friends, which was typical abuser behavior.

  “Can I tell you something as a mom myself?”

  “I guess.”

  “If one of my kids was out there somewhere in need of help, I’d want her to call me no matter how long it’d been since we’d talked. It wouldn’t matter to me.”

  “I… I guess you could call my mom.” Her chest heaved with a sob. “I’d really like to see her.”

  Sam pulled the notebook from her back pocket. “What’s her number?”

  The young woman recited the number.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Brandy Wilson.”

  “I’ll call her for you.”

  “You can tell her it’s okay if she doesn’t want to come. It’s been a while…”

  “I’ll tell her.” She rested a hand on Shanice’s arm. “Try not to worry. We’re going to help you.”

  “Thank you. I can’t believe the first lady herself is going to help me.”

  “Right now, I’m not the first lady. I’m a cop and a mom and a friend, okay?”

  Shanice bit her lip and nodded, wincing and blinking back new tears.

  “I’ll check on you later.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sam left the room and went to the ICU waiting room, which was blessedly empty other than Vernon, Jimmy and Freddie, who was on his phone. She placed the call to Shanice’s mother.

  The call went to voice mail. “Ms. Wilson, this is Lieutenant Sam Holland with the Metro Police Department. I’m calling about your daughter. Shanice is currently admitted to GW Hospital and gave me your number. She wanted me to tell you that it’s okay if you don’t want to come, but she’d like to see you.” Sam left her number so the woman could call her back and then slapped the phone closed. If she didn’t hear from her, she’d try calling again shortly.

  “I asked Captain Malone to get the warrant, put Crime Scene on notice that we’ll need them at the apartment and made arrangements to get the rape kit to the lab,” Freddie said. “I also passed along Shanice’s descriptions of the men to Gonzo.”

  “Excellent. Thank you.”

  “What’s next?”

  “What do we know about Kelvin Evans?”

  “I’m waiting for Gonzo to get me the lowdown on him.”

  Sam’s cell rang, and she took the call, recognizing the number as the one she’d just called. “Lieutenant Holland.”

  “This is Shanice’s mother. I… I got your message. What happened to her?”

  “She was assaulted by several men.”

  The woman’s moan came through the phone. “Because of that asshole Eddie?”

  “It was related.”

  “Of course it was. I’ve been trying to get her to leave that monster for years. I hope he’s locked up.”

  “He was killed in the incident.”

  “Good. He doesn’t deserve to live in a world with civilized people. He’s the reason none of us has seen her in more than a year.”

  “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. Are you able to be with her in the hospital?”

  “Did she really ask for me?”

  “She gave me your number.”

  She released a deep sigh. “I’ll be there shortly. Thank you for calling me.”

  “Of course. No problem.”

  “I’ve been waiting for this call for a long time while praying it wouldn’t be the worst possible news.”

  “It’s going to take a while, but she’ll get through this.”

  “I really hope so.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Sam slapped her phone closed, feeling satisfied that she’d made a difference for one family that day, which was one of the many reasons she loved this job so much.

  “Gonzo emailed me Evans’s sheet. It’s long and ugly.” Freddie handed his phone to her. “He’s been in and out of trouble for most of his life. Mostly in.”

  Sam scanned the lengthy sheet that included burglaries, drug charges and assaults. “How is this guy still on the streets?”

  “That’s a very good question.”

  She handed the phone back to him and checked the clock to make sure she still had plenty of time before her meeting with Mrs. Nelson. “Let’s look in on Gigi and then go pick him up. Tell Gonzo to meet us there with backup in thirty minutes.”

  Gigi was asleep when they dropped by her room, so Sam left a note that they’d been there and were ho
ping she felt better. I’ll check in later, she added before signing her name and Freddie’s.

  Back in the car, Freddie put the Anacostia address for Kelvin into the maps app on his phone, which gave them the fastest route.

  “That’s pretty cool.”

  “What is?”

  “The way the phone gives you the fastest way to get there.”

  “You too could have this technology if you upgraded from the flip.”

  “Shut your filthy mouth. Me and my flip are ride or die.”

  Thanks to her peripheral vision, she caught him rolling his eyes. “They’ll probably make you have a BlackBerry now that Nick is president.”

  “That may or may not have already happened.”

  “Really?” he said, laughing. “I would’ve liked to have seen that conversation.”

  “We were naked in bed. Still wish you were there?”

  “Ew.”

  “Thankfully, I only have to use it when I talk to him.” She patted her coat pocket where the direct line to her beloved resided. “It’s fine.”

  He dropped the visor and opened the mirror. “You’re being very mature about all of this.”

  “I expect you to be on my side at all times.”

  Laughing, he said, “I am on your side, but I’m still allowed to find all of this funny. I bet the BlackBerry also has high-tech GPS locators so you can’t go missing.”

  Sam wasn’t sure how she felt about being tracked by Big Brother. “I’m so torn between being crazy proud of him and incredibly annoyed by all the ways this is going to fuck up my life.” The minute she shared that thought, she felt guilty for saying it out loud. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

  “It’s okay, Sam. You know you can share your true feelings with me, and it’ll never go any further.”

  “It can’t. Not even to Elin.”

  “It won’t. I promise. No matter what happens over these next few years, I want you to know you can talk to me about it, and I’ll always be happy to listen and talk you down from the cliff.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot. I don’t want you to think I’m complaining. I’m not. Well, not really…”