SAM OPENED HER email and noted Avery had sent the message from a personal account, rather than his official FBI address. Interesting. She clicked on the attached PDF and opened what she quickly realized was the dossier he had told them about yesterday, in which Armstrong had laid out the case against Piedmont. He’d basically done the job of the SEC and FBI investigators for them, with every offense neatly documented. She skimmed the twenty-page document that had served as a summary of the case against Piedmont.
Armstrong’s meticulous work, done while knowing it would spell professional ruination and the loss of the company he’d poured his heart and soul into, was admirable, to say the least.
Sam tried to put herself in his shoes, having learned something about his partner and friend that could ruin them all, and still doing the right thing. That said a lot about what kind of man Jameson Armstrong/Beauclair had been.
Since the kids were still settled with Shelby, Sam kept moving forward, looking next at Cleo Dennis Armstrong/Beauclair, who came from a prominent Northern California family known for its connections to the wine industry. Her parents owned a company that lobbied on behalf of the wine industry. They worked between Napa, Sacramento and Washington. Sam made a note of the parents’ names with the intention of speaking to them at some point today.
Prior to her tenure at APG, Cleo had worked on the staff of a hip blog in San Francisco that tracked fashion trends. Sam went back to one of the earlier articles about APG from the good times. She read Jameson’s account of meeting Cleo at a dinner party and being immediately attracted to her crackling intelligence and sparkling wit.
“I was in the process of beginning divorce proceedings from my first wife and in no position whatsoever to begin something new, but the minute I met Cleo, I knew she would change my life,” he’d said in a Forbes article. “Selfishly, I wanted to keep her close until I was ready for her, so I hired her to work in APG’s corporate communications department.”
In a Los Angeles Times article that had followed the company’s implosion, ten inches was given to Armstrong’s ugly divorce from his first wife, Margaret, and the ensuing custody battle over Elijah, who’d been six at the time. Margaret’s mental health challenges had become public during the case, which Jameson claimed to be horrified about. “That never came from me or my attorneys,” he’d said adamantly.
The case had dragged on for two years, during which time Jameson was never seen in public with Cleo. In the end, he’d been awarded primary custody of Elijah during the school year, with Margaret awarded liberal visitation, all holidays and school vacations, provided she underwent mental health evaluations four times a year. That the terms had been made public at all said much about the level of interest in Armstrong and his family at the pinnacle of APG’s impressive run.
“My ex-husband is a powerful and influential man,” Margaret had said in a local TV interview after the case had been resolved. “Powerful and influential people can get away with things the rest of us can’t, and this case is certainly proof of that.” She’d paused before adding, “Having my personal medical condition made public has been a huge violation of my privacy, but that’s what happens when you’re David up against Goliath.”
The woman’s heartbreak and outrage had come through loud and clear. She was someone they needed to look at very closely. Not only had Jameson fallen for Cleo while he was technically still married to Margaret, but her mental health challenges had been used against her in the custody battle. Even though all of that had happened years ago, sometimes resentments festered for years before they boiled over.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the French doors to the dining room open. “I can feel you watching me,” she said, smiling but not looking up from what she was doing.
“You’re my favorite thing to watch. The story never gets old.”
“Someday, the story will get old and wrinkly.”
“And it’ll still be my favorite story ever. The story of my life.” He pushed off the door frame he’d been leaning against and came over to her, sitting next to her and putting his arm around her. “How’s it going?”
“Slow and steady wins the race—or so I hope. I want justice for those babies upstairs so damned badly.”
“So do I. If anyone can get it for them, you can. Are you leaning in any particular direction?”
“The ex-partner is the obvious choice. The guy has motive up the wazoo because he blames Armstrong for ratting him out to the Feds, although Armstrong had no choice. If he hadn’t, he could’ve been prosecuted himself. What a catch-22. Report your ex–best friend and business partner, destroy the business you’ve spent your entire adult life building in the process, or run the risk of your own criminal trouble.”
“He did the only thing he could.”
“Yeah. Then there’s his ex-wife, the schizophrenic, who he battled for custody of the older son. Her mental health challenges were made public during the custody case, and she blamed him for that, even though he adamantly denied it. The first wife, Margaret, was also convinced that he was fooling around with Cleo while he was still married to her, even though he adamantly denied that too.”
“If she were going to come after him, wouldn’t it have happened a long time ago?”
“Sometimes these things simmer for years until one small thing causes an explosion. Their son, Elijah, is coming from New Jersey and will arrive later in the day. I hope to get the chance to speak with him some more about the dynamic between his parents.”
Nick rubbed her back, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the stolen moment with him. Even in a houseful of people, he made her feel like they were the only two people in the world.
“I have good news,” he said.
Sam opened her eyes and glanced at him. “What kind of good news?”
“The kind where I only have to go to Europe for one week instead of three.”
Sam let out a happy shout and hugged him. “That is the best news ever. How’d you pull that off?”
“I said I was willing to go for one week only, and they could decide how best to use the time. The secretary of state is stepping up to do some of the other stuff they had me doing. I told Terry I won’t travel for more than a week at a time. Ever.”
“God, I love you. Have I told you that lately?”
His low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I hope it’s obvious that I love you too, so much that I caused headaches for an entire administration, all so I don’t have to be away from my beautiful wife any longer than necessary.”
Sam breathed in the fresh clean scent of him, the scent of home. Even a week without him would be torture, but that was better than three weeks. “Did you create an international incident?”
“Quite possibly. Terry said some of the foreign dignitaries we were due to meet with will be crushed that I’m not coming.”
“You’re as popular over there as you are here.”
“I only care about being popular right here in this house.”
“You get the award for most popular man in the house and most likely to get laid tonight.”
His laughter made her smile. Everything about him made her smile.
“Um, Mr. Vice President?” Terry said from the dining room. “We need you in here.”
“Duty calls,” Nick said. “Kiss me—and make it a good one to hold me over until later.”
Sam didn’t care that there was a Secret Service agent minding the front door or Nick’s team in the dining room. All she cared about was the chance to kiss her sexy husband in the middle of a workday. She placed her hand on his face and went for broke, slipping him a hint of tongue as a preview of things to come later. When she pulled back, he looked rather stunned and undone. “Get back to work, Mr. Vice President.”
He stole another kiss. “Mmmm. To be continued. I’m still hoping for a late-afternoon snuggle if you can get everyone out of here and the littles take a nap.”
“You’ll get my ultradeluxe service for cutting that trip by two weeks.”
“What does ultradeluxe service include, just so I can look forward to it all day?”
She leaned in and whispered in his ear, pulling back in time to see his gorgeous eyes go wide with surprise.
“I thought I only got that on my birthday and anniversaries?”
Sam laughed and bumped him with her shoulder. “Go away. I have work to do and so do you.” She stood when he did. “And I need to go check on my babies.”
“Sam.”
“Figure of speech. I know they’re not mine.” But I wish they were. The thought came over her so suddenly, she staggered slightly under the weight of the realization.
“Babe? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Stood up too fast, and I’m hungry.”
“Take it easy, will you? We don’t need you getting sick on top of everything else.”
“It’s all good,” she said on her way up the stairs. “Don’t worry about me.”
“May as well tell me not to breathe.”
Working from home had many perks, not the least of which was time with Nick in the middle of the day. She found Shelby and the kids in Scotty’s room. They were on his bed, with Shelby in the middle, Noah asleep in her arms and one little blond child on either side of her, resting their heads on her as they watched Minions.
Aubrey perked up when Sam appeared in the doorway. “Is Mommy here?”
“No, honey.”
“Where is she? She never leaves us this long. Is she worried about us?”
Though Alden didn’t say anything, he watched Sam with wise, knowing eyes. She wondered if he already understood something his sister had yet to fathom.
“I’m not sure.” Sam felt like shit for lying to them. But she would wait for Elijah to get there before they shared the dreadful news with the children. “How about some lunch? Is anyone hungry?”
Aubrey shrugged as if nothing would interest her except her mother.
Sam’s heart broke for them both. After lunch, she would call Trulo for some advice on how best to go about telling the children. The thought of having to shatter their little world made Sam ache.
She glanced at Shelby, who blinked back tears.
“How about grilled cheese?” Shelby asked cheerfully. “Scotty says mine are the best ever. You want to see if he’s right?”
Aubrey nodded. “Okay.”
Thank God for Shelby, Sam thought again as they trooped downstairs. Her sweet sincerity was just what they needed.
“Let me settle Noah, and then we’ll see about some grilled cheese,” Shelby said. She kept a small portable crib in the laundry room off the kitchen.
Sam had poured apple juice for the kids and gotten them settled at the table when her phone rang.
“Go ahead,” Shelby said. “I’ve got this.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, taking the call from Freddie. “What’s up?”
“Might be nothing, but I found a report in the system that warrants further investigation. A traffic altercation Cleo had on Friday. Apparently, a fender bender escalated into a screaming match.”
“Send it to my email. Anything else?”
“Jeannie and I are working the neighborhood again today, and Green is taking a closer look at the kids’ school.”
“What about the school?”
“I’m not sure yet. He said he’s following a hunch.”
“Tell him to call me and clue me in on this so-called hunch.”
“Will do. We’ll be there at four or we’ll check in.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.” She ended the call with him and took a call from Green five minutes later.
“Afternoon, Detective.”
“Hey, Lieutenant. Cruz told me to give you a call to fill you in. In addition to following the money trail, I’m taking a high-level look at the school. I’ve heard a few things from friends who’ve had kids go there that makes me think it’s worth a deeper look.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Mostly about the parents being crazy, for lack of a better word.”
“How so?”
“Competitive, malicious, vindictive. Too much money, too much time on their hands. That kind of thing.”
“Sounds like a lovely place,” Sam said.
“It sounds like private school.”
“And you have some experience with private school?”
“Far too much. Thirteen years of that nonsense. My mother could tell you a few stories about the parents.”
“I’d be interested to speak to someone who has kids there now. Preferably someone normal.”
“I have someone you can talk to. I’ll have her call you. Her name is Marlene Peters. I play football with her husband, Dave.”
“You play football?”
He laughed. “Flag football. We’re all too old and too busy to risk injury.”
“This I need to see.”
“You’re more than welcome to come by the field any Sunday, but only if you cheer for my team.”
“I’d love to. We’ll make a plan for that.”
“Sounds good. I’ll have Marlene call you. She actually reached out to me when she heard about the Beauclairs.”
“How come?”
“First to ask me if it was true they were killed and then to express disbelief.”
“Did she know them?”
“She knew Cleo but not Jameson. Apparently, Cleo was known as a supermom. She was the mom who volunteered for everything, had the elaborate birthday parties, organized playdates and crafts and generally made everyone else look like a slouch in the mom department.”
The description alone was enough to make Sam feel inadequate. Should she be organizing playdates and crafts for Scotty? Would he suffer someday for not having had a mother like that? The thoughts overwhelmed and saddened her. She would never be that kind of mother, but no one would ever love him as much as she did.
“Sam?” Green said. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here. Just trying to process everything these poor kids have lost.”
“How are they?”
“Confused and quiet. The boy, Alden, hasn’t said a word to any of us. I’m particularly concerned about him. Their older brother, Elijah, will be here later today. I’m hoping he can help us break through to poor Alden.”
“I hope so. It’s such a sad thing.”
“Yes, it is. I’ll let you go to keep pursuing the school angle, and I’ll look forward to talking to Marlene.”
“I’ll have her call you right away.”
“Thanks, Cameron.”
“No problem.”
Sam closed her phone and went into the kitchen to join the kids for lunch. She had downed half a grilled cheese when her phone rang again. She left the kitchen and took the call from a number she didn’t recognize. “Lieutenant Holland.”
“This is Marlene Peters. Cam asked me to call you?”
“Yes, thank you. I appreciate you taking the time.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked with a laugh. “I’ll dine out for weeks on the fact that I got to talk to you. My friends will be green with envy.”
Sam was never certain how to reply to comments like that. “Oh, um, thank you?”
She laughed again. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I know you want to talk about Cleo and her family. I’m just so heartsick over what’s happened.”
“It’s very tragic, indeed.”
“The children... I just can’t stop thinking about them.”
“They’re okay, all things considered. We’re waiting for their brother to arrive from college, so we can tell them what’s happened.”
“Those poor babies. Cleo was such a wonderful mother.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. Can you tell me more about her?”
“She was amazing, the kind of woman you’d love to hate if she hadn’t been so damned sweet and kind and caring. At first, people at the school weren’t sure what to make of her. We knew her husband was loaded, but we weren’t sure what he did, so of course there was speculation that he was into something illegal. And then there was the fact that she never once left the school while the kids were there, which was weird. Most moms live for that little break from their kids, but not Cleo. She stayed and filled in wherever she was needed. We joked that she made the rest of us look like slackers. But I sensed that she stayed because she was afraid of something happening to the kids when she wasn’t there.”
“What made you think that?”
“There was a wariness to her. As sweet and kind as she was, she didn’t get close to any of the other moms. Her kids started in the summer program, and we were both room moms. I didn’t know her any better months later than I did at the beginning, even though I talked to her just about every day.”
“Did she ever mention her husband or their marriage or anything like that?”
“No, never. I never heard her speak of him at all. Their neighbor, Lauren, she knew him a little because her husband played golf with him a couple of times. She said he seemed like a nice guy, but like his wife, he kept his cards close to the vest. He never talked about his work or anything overly personal except when it came to the kids. They both obviously adored their kids and were extremely devoted to them. I just can’t help but wonder what they had to hide that made them private to the point of being secretive, you know?”
“Yes, I do, and I know what they were hiding from. You will too before much longer. Suffice it to say they had good reason to keep a low profile.”
“Hmm. Interesting. I like that explanation better than what some people have said about them.”
“And what’s that?”
“That they were standoffish and arrogant. I never picked up that vibe from her, and that’s not how Lauren’s husband described Cleo’s husband. He said he was a friendly guy who was an extremely good golfer.”
“So, they were the subject of a lot of speculation at the school?”
“How can I say this without sounding like part of the problem?” After a pause, she said, “Usually when people move into our part of town or enroll their kids at Northwest Academy, they come with a bit of a pedigree, if you will. They’re CEOs, ambassadors, former senators, prominent lobbyists, grandchildren of presidents, even. We know who they are. The Beauclairs were the exception to that rule. No one knew anything about them, which made people rabidly curious.”
To Sam, it sounded like they needed to get lives of their own, but then again, she never had understood the frantic need to know every detail of other people’s lives. “Was anyone particularly hateful toward Cleo or her family?”
“Enough to murder them? No, but there was one woman, Emma Knoff, the president of the PTO at the school, who was annoyed by Cleo.”
“In what way?”
“She felt Cleo was stepping on toes with all her volunteering and helping out. She was particularly vocal about the fact that Cleo never left the building when the kids were at school. Weird was the word she used to describe it, but Emma is the kind of person who wants to be in charge of everything. Cleo made her feel threatened in her little fiefdom.”
Sam shook her head in disbelief. Who were these people? “Can you tell me where I might find Emma?”
“You won’t tell her I sent you, will you?”
“No, I won’t mention your name. I’ll just say some of the parents we spoke to recalled her being upset about Cleo’s presence at the school. Something like that.”
“Well, that’s the truth. She was upset about it.” Marlene gave her Emma’s address and phone number.
“I really appreciate your help,” Sam said. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant, feel free to call me back. Just don’t give my number to your friends.”
Marlene laughed. “I’ll do my best to refrain from handing it out.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Before you go, if I could just say that my husband and I... We admire and respect you and your husband so much. Thank you both for your service.”
Touched, Sam said, “Thank you. That means a lot. And thanks again for your time.”
“Happy to help. I hope you’re able to get justice for those poor children.”
“Oh, we will. You can bet on that.”