Chapter 25
“You’re invited to Governor Zorn’s sixtieth birthday,” Christina said to Nick. “They’d also like you to say a few words.”
“I promised the governor’s wife I’d do that. Tell them yes.”
“Just you?”
Nick thought of Sam and the possible outcome of the IAB proceedings. If he didn’t hear something soon, he might just lose his mind. “I don’t know if Sam can make it or not. Depends on her schedule.”
“So what do I tell them?”
“I guess the standard answer going forward will be one for sure, two maybe.”
“Alrighty,” Christina said, even though her disapproval was apparent. “President Nelson sent you an invite to the state dinner with the Canadian prime minister. You can’t be vague on that one. Either she’s going or she isn’t.”
Nick tried to imagine Sam at a White House function. The idea of it made him smile. “I’ll see if I can talk her into it.”
“We have to let them know by next week. The next thing is this slew of interview requests we’ve received. Trevor and I agree that you probably need to pick one and do it. You can’t just ignore them all.” She handed him the list. “But there’s one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“They want both of you.”
“Both of who?”
“You and Sam.”
“Are you serious?”
Christina nodded. “I know you’re painfully aware that the media is enthralled by the two of you. They’re clamoring for the first joint interview.”
“She’d never do it in a million years.”
“Even if you asked her to?”
“She’s up to her eyeballs in the Sinclair case.” Not to mention the IAB situation, he thought to himself. “I can’t imagine asking her to sit down for an interview.”
“Maybe if you do it,” Christina said, “they’ll move on to something else and leave the two of you alone.”
“You really think so?” Nick asked, skeptical.
“Not really, but it’s worth a shot.”
“I’ll think about it,” Nick said, trying to imagine broaching the subject with Sam.
One of the receptionists came to the door. “Senator, Judson Knott is here. He wonders if he might have a few minutes.”
Nick glanced at Christina who shrugged. “Not on the schedule.”
“Sure,” he said. “Show him in.”
The chairman of the Virginia Democratic Party stepped into the office, full of apologies for showing up without an appointment.
“It’s no problem, Judson,” Nick said. “My door’s always open for you.” To Christina, Nick added, “Would you mind giving us a minute?”
When they were alone, Nick asked if he could get Judson some coffee.
“No, thank you, Senator. I’m fine. I’ve just come from breakfast with Richard and the rest of the party leadership. I wonder if your ears were ringing.”
“Sir?”
Judson flashed a big smile. “You were the hot topic of conversation. The way you’ve come in and hit the ground running, getting O’Connor-Martin passed. Your approval ratings are higher than anything we’ve ever seen. You don’t see numbers like yours. Ever.”
“I’m sure it’s just the sentimental bump from Senator O’Connor’s loyal base.”
“It’s much more than that, Senator. You’ve struck a chord with people in the Old Dominion, and your romance with the pretty police officer hasn’t hurt anything.”
Nick scowled. He’d never understand why people were so interested in them.
“That leads me to the reason I’m here.” Judson shifted in his seat, seeming uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I know we said we needed you for a year and that we’d run Cooper in the election.”
“I hope his wife is doing better,” Nick said.
“We heard just yesterday that her cancer is in remission.”
“Well, that’s a great relief.”
“Indeed. However, the party is no longer interested in him as our candidate for your seat.”
“Why not?”
Judson gave him a “come on, Senator, you’re a smart guy” look.
“Wait a minute. You said one year and out. We had a deal.”
“Why in the world would we go looking for another candidate when we have the perfect guy already in office? You’re our man, Senator. You’re the one the party wants. The only one.”
All Nick could think of in that moment was the far more important deal he had made with Sam when he accepted the position in the first place—one year in the Senate. “I, ah, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes. You’re a natural and the very best thing that’s happened to our state in years. We’re invested in you for the long haul.”
“I appreciate that, Judson. I really do. But I need to give this some thought.”
“We’ll need a decision in the next week or two. Campaign season is right around the corner.”
The idea was so overwhelming that Nick couldn’t begin to process it. A lengthy campaign, the prospect of a six-year term that he won on his own merits. “Have you talked to Graham about this?”
Judson shook his head. “He wasn’t at the meeting today. He’s taking Sinclair’s death real hard. Such a tragedy, and right on top of losing his son. Well, I guess I don’t need to tell you.”
“No, sir.”
“I have no doubt, however, that Graham will fully support your candidacy. You know he’s your staunchest supporter.” Judson got up. “You’ll think about it?”
Nodding, Nick stood and offered his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Mrs. Sinclair, how long have you harbored a hatred for homosexuals?”
Diandra blanched at Sam’s question. “I don’t hate anyone, Lieutenant.”
“All right then, how about you tell me your views on homosexuality.”
“I find it to be an abhorrent lifestyle. However, I have no ill will for people who choose this way of life.”
“What about it do you find so abhorrent?”
“Leviticus 20:13, states, ‘If a man lies with a male, as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.’ I tend to agree with him, and I was under the impression that as an American, I’m free to pursue my own beliefs.”
“He was a hell of a guy that Leviticus, wasn’t he Detective Cruz?” Sam said.
“In our time, he’d be considered a bigot,” Freddie said with a pointed look at Diandra.
“I’m not a bigot, Detective. My beliefs are grounded in scripture.”
“Your friend, Leviticus also recommends stoning for married couples who engage in intercourse during the woman’s period,” Freddie said. “I sure hope you’ve never done that.”
“It’s not the same thing,” Diandra snapped. “A woman’s period is a natural event.”
“How do you reconcile the unnatural ‘abomination’ with the commandment to love thy neighbor?” Freddie asked. “And Jesus himself said, ‘If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first.’”
Diandra glared at him.
Fascinated by the debate, Sam was reluctant to interrupt but needed to get back to the investigation. “Do either you or your husband own a gun?”
Diandra was clearly caught off guard by the change in direction. “We have a gun we keep locked in the house for protection. I’ve attracted my share of detractors.”
“You say that you have no hatred for homosexuals, but would you say you hated your brother-in-law Julian?”
Diandra’s posture lost some of its rigidity. “I was once very close to Julian. We lived for many years in Boston while Preston completed graduate studies at Harvard. We spent a lot of time with Julian.”
“Yet you never had any idea that Julian was gay?”
She shook her head. “It came as a total shock to me. Like I said the other day, we’d allowed our young, impressionable sons to spend time in his home, to sleep there.” She shuddered. “God only knows what they were subjected to.”
“Did you suspect that he abused them?”
Diandra’s eyes flashed with anger. “Of course not! He would never harm them. He loved those boys. I never doubted that.”
“Did Duncan spend the night with Julian when the boys were there?”
“Not that I was ever aware of.”
“So your brother-in-law, who was clearly devoted to your sons and who seemed to go to some lengths to keep his orientation hidden from them, was none-the-less banished from their lives?”
“You don’t understand, Lieutenant.”
“Then make me.”
Diandra folded her hands on the table and focused on them. “Times were different then. People were less accepting of alternative lifestyles. Preston and I were building our careers, pursuing our goals—”
“And there was no room for his gay brother in the midst of all that ambition?”
“We didn’t want our sons to be influenced.”
“You’re aware that you can’t ‘catch’ homosexuality, aren’t you?”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
“Actually,” Freddie said, “there’s quite a lot of science to support that sexual orientation is something we’re born with.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Mrs. Sinclair, if one of your sons happened to be gay—”
“Don’t be outrageous, Lieutenant! My sons are normal, well-adjusted young men.”
Oh how Sam wished she could pop this woman’s sanctimonious bubble. But since she had promised discretion to Devon, she bit her tongue. “Let’s just speculate for the sake of argument that one of them is gay, would you exile him from your family and your life?”
“There’s no point in speculating on something that could never happen.”
“Humor me.”
“I love my sons,” Diandra said, her hand trembling ever so slightly.
“Unconditionally?”
“Yes,” she stammered. “Of course.”
“So if Devon or Austin came home one day and said, ‘I love you, Mom but I’m gay,’ you’d be okay with that?”
“I’d be very disappointed—and shocked after the number of girlfriends my boys have had.”
Devon has done a hell of a job hiding who he is, Sam thought. “What would it have meant to your book deal if Julian’s orientation became public during the nomination hearings?”
Flustered, Diandra said, “It would’ve had no bearing.”
“Embarrassing?”
“Somewhat. Who wants their family members’ sexual predilections discussed publicly?”
“Were you under any pressure to avoid scandal in these final weeks before your book is published?”
“Do I need a lawyer, Lieutenant?”
“As I advised you at the outset, you can request an attorney at any time. However, you’re not currently under arrest. We’ve asked you to cooperate with our investigation.”
Diandra took a long sip from the glass of water Sam had provided at the beginning of their interview. “It’s understood that I am to stay above any scandal.”
A knock on the door interrupted them.
Sam nodded at Freddie to get it.
He came back in a minute later and gestured for her to join him and Captain Malone in the hallway. “Devon Sinclair and his roommate were just found shot in their home by a pizza delivery guy.”
“Oh shit.” Sam glanced over her shoulder at Diandra in the interrogation room. “DOA?”
“Both were shot,” Malone said. “One was DOA. We don’t know yet which one.”
“At least we can confirm she didn’t do this one,” Sam said.
“Right,” Freddie said. “That was my first thought, too.”
Steeling herself, she returned to the interrogation room. “Mrs. Sinclair, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but there’s been a shooting at your son Devon’s home.”
Gasping, Diandra stood up. “Dev.”
“We only know there were two victims, one of them a fatality,” Sam said.
Diandra sagged into the chair. “Oh, God, please. Not my Devon. Not my baby.”
“If you’ll wait here, I’ll see if I can find out more.”
Diandra nodded.
With Freddie following her, Sam emerged from the interrogation room and ran smack into Lieutenant Stahl.
“Lieutenant,” Stahl said, his fat face shifting to a sneer at the sight of her.
Since he used her rank, Sam assumed she still had it.
“You’ve been suspended,” Stahl said. “You have no business here.”
“The chief called me back to close Sinclair,” Sam said with a satisfied smirk.
Stahl’s cheeks turned an unhealthy shade of purple. “You may think you’ve won this round, Holland, but you mark my words: I’ll get rid of you if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
“Detective Cruz, did you hear Lieutenant Stahl threaten me?” Sam asked, her eyes fixed on Stahl.
“Yes, ma’am. I sure did.”
“So if anything suspicious ever happens to me, you’ll know just where to begin your investigation, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is not over,” Stahl said, his spit hitting Sam’s face.
She wiped it away. “Do you mind getting out of my way? I’m working a homicide here.” Shoving past him, she signaled for Freddie to come with her.
“You might want to consider your allegiances, Detective,” Stahl said to their backs. “I’d hate to see such a promising young career derailed.”
Freddie spun around. “My allegiances, Lieutenant, are with my partner, the best cop on this force, so don’t bother wasting your bad breath on me.”
Stahl’s eyes almost popped out of his fat head.
Sam took hold of Freddie’s good arm and half led, half dragged him back to the detectives’ pit. “You shouldn’t have done that. He was baiting you.”
“I knew that.”
“It’s bad enough he has it in for me. I don’t want you sucked into it, too.”
“Too late.”
Captain Malone joined them. “You’ve heard the news? No reduction in rank?”
“Not officially until right now,” Sam said, the relief almost as overwhelming as the worry.
“Apparently, Stahl about had an apoplexy when Andrews sided with Conklin,” Malone said. “You’ve got a very significant enemy there, Lieutenant.”
“I’m not worried about him.” Sam grabbed her radio off her desk. “I’ve got another shooting in the Sinclair case to contend with.”
“Word is the roommate, Tucker Farrell, was DOA on the scene,” Malone said. “Devon Sinclair is being taken to GW Trauma.”
Sam watched Freddie struggle into a coat. “Cruz, you’re done for today. Arrange transport to GW for Mrs. Sinclair, and then call your ride to pick you up.”
“But I’m fine!” he sputtered. “I’m good for a couple more hours.”
“Call your ride,” Sam said. “You did enough for the first day back.”
“Oh come on, Lieutenant!”
“Detective,” Malone said in his quiet but effective way. “I believe your lieutenant has given you an order.”
“Yes, sir,” he mumbled, stalking off to his cubicle.
“Thanks for the assist,” Sam said to Malone. Viewing the empty pit, she looked up at him. “I could use a partner. You game?”
His eyes lit up. “On a real case? Me?”
“If you can stand leaving your desk for an hour or two.”
“I’m in. Meet you outside in ten.”
“Make it five. Crime scene is waiting on us.” On the way to the parking lot, Sam called Nick. “Hey,” she said when he answered, “no reduction in rank.”
“Oh, good,” he said, releasing a long deep breath. “That’s good.”
He sounded so relieved that she laughed. “Yes, it is.”
“I don’t know if I could’ve lived with being responsible for you getting busted down to detective.”
“We would’ve coped.”
“I’m glad we don’t have to.”
“So am I. What’re you doing?”
“Reading committee reports. That seems to be all I’ve done since I took office.”
“Ah, the exciting life of a U.S. senator.”
“Nonstop glamour. What’s up over there?”
“I’m on my way to investigate a shooting at Julian’s nephew’s house.”
“Oh, no. Which one?”
“Devon.”
“Jesus. Is he dead?”
“No, but his roommate is. Devon’s on the way to GW.”
“I hope he’s okay. Julian adored him. He was so thrilled when Dev decided to go to law school.”
“Did you know Devon?”
“I never met either of his nephews. Because of Julian’s rift with their parents, he kept his relationship with them quiet.”
“But you knew he saw them?”
“He talked about them all the time, so I just assumed he did. This is all so unbelievable.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re still upset about losing him.”
“And now this. Do you think the two shootings are related?”
“I’m working under the assumption that they are.”
“Which eliminates a lot of other suspects.”
“Not entirely. This could be intended to throw us off the trail.”
“True. I guess this means you’ll be working late again.”
“Right you are. I’ll see you when I see you.”
He paused, as if there was something else he wanted to say.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
“Yeah. We can talk later.”
“Or not,” she said, her tone rife with suggestion.
He laughed. “Be careful out there, Lieutenant.”
“I always am.”