First the fire, then the heat…
A brutal home invasion. Two small traumatized survivors who may have witnessed the horror. Lieutenant Sam Holland has never worked a case quite like this one, in which her eyewitnesses are five-year-old twins. But when Sam steps up in a big way for them, she risks her heart as much as her career.
While Sam and her husband, Vice President Nick Cappuano, go to battle in more ways than one for her tiny witnesses, her colleague Sergeant Tommy “Gonzo” Gonzales battles his own demons. Months of unbearable grief and despair come to a head in an unimaginable way that threatens Gonzo’s status with the department and his relationship with his fiancée, Christina.
With trouble both at the precinct and on the case, Sam struggles to keep her priorities straight at home and at work while trying not to lose her heart to her latest crime victims.
Excerpt
The Beauclairs’ beautiful neighborhood was marred only by the blackened frame of the house that had burned. In most neighborhoods, emergency action of any kind drew a crowd. Chevy Chase wasn’t most neighborhoods. A lone woman with a dog on a leash stood outside the yellow crime scene tape wiping tears. She wore her blond hair in a ponytail and was dressed in workout clothing.
“Excuse me,” Sam said as she approached the woman while Freddie conferred with the firefighters.
The woman glanced at Sam and then did a double take when she recognized her. That happened far too often for Sam’s liking since Nick became vice president and raised their already-high profile even higher. Sam hated the added attention, but she’d gotten used to it. Sort of.
“You’re…”
Ignoring the reference to her second lady status, Sam said, “Did you know the family who lived here?”
She nodded. “Are they all gone?”
“All being who?”
“Jameson, Cleo, Alden and Aubrey. Jameson has an older son, Elijah, who’s away at college.”
Sam pulled her notebook from her back pocket and wrote down the names. “How old are Alden and Aubrey?”
“They’re five-year-old twins.”
Sam waved Green over and spoke so only he could hear her. “Let the fire marshal know we’re looking for five-year-old twins in the house.”
Green winced and nodded before seeing to her order.
“What’s your name?” Sam asked the woman.
“Lauren Morton. I live one block over. My kids play with Alden and Aubrey.”
“How well do you know the parents?”
“I don’t know Jameson well at all. He works a lot. But I know Cleo through the kids.” Lauren looked at Sam, her eyes watering with new tears. “Are they…”
“We have two adult victims, but we haven’t found the kids.”
Lauren nodded and wiped her tears. “Was it an accident?”
“We don’t know yet.” Sam couldn’t and wouldn’t divulge details that could compromise the investigation. “Do you know what they did for a living?”
“He was in some sort of international business. Cleo said he worked all the time, and I know he traveled a lot, because she was alone with the kids. She doesn’t work, but she volunteers at the kids’ school.”
“What school is that?”
“Northwest Academy on Connecticut.”
Sam made a note. “Do you know where his older son goes to school?”
“Princeton, I think.”
They needed to track down Jameson’s son so they could undertake the dreadful task of notifying him of his father’s and stepmother’s deaths after they got positive identifications. “Could you please give me your full name, address and phone number?” Sam asked, handing her the notebook and pen.
“How come?”
“In case I have follow-up questions.”
“I’ve told you what I know.”
“I like to be thorough, so if you wouldn’t mind…”
Lauren stared at the notebook for a second before she reluctantly took it and wrote down the info Sam had requested. “My husband doesn’t like when I get involved with neighborhood drama.”
“This hardly counts as drama. I’d categorize it under neighborhood tragedy. Did Mrs. Beauclair have other friends in the neighborhood?”
“A few.”
“Write down their names, addresses and phone numbers, if you would.”
Lauren used her cell phone to look up the numbers and wrote down three names with the accompanying information. “You don’t need to tell them you got their names from me, do you?”
“No.”
“Oh good. I’d rather not be involved.”
Honestly, Sam wanted to say. People are dead, and you’re worried about getting involved?
“Why are you investigating the fire?” Lauren asked after she handed over the notebook. “I thought you were a Homicide detective.”
“I am.”
“Oh, so, does that mean…”
“It means we’re conducting a full investigation.”
“I see.”
No, you don’t. “Is there anything else you can tell me about the family that might assist in our investigation?”
“I heard she fired her housekeeper yesterday,” Lauren said. “Cleo suspected her of stealing from them. The housekeeper had worked for them for years and was very hurt by the accusation, according to my housekeeper.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Her first name was Milagros. I never heard her last name.”
Sam made a note. It was the closest thing to a motive she’d heard yet and the timing lined up. “What did you know about Cleo’s background?”
“Not much. Just that she’s from out West originally. She never did say where. She didn’t talk about her life before DC.”
“And you never wondered why?”
Lauren shrugged. “People are private. I’m private. I don’t pry into areas that are clearly off-limits with my friends.”
“Did she ever express concern for her safety or that of her family?”
“No, nothing like that. Not to me anyway.”
Sam handed her a card. “If you think of anything that might be relevant, call me. My cell number is on there.”
“I will.”
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