CHRISTINA WAITED WITH Alex in a room full of sick people that only further shredded her already-frayed nerves. She had signed the consent form and listed herself as the child’s mother. Let anyone try to question her. She’d probably rip their heads off.
Where the hell was Tommy, and why was he not answering his phone? Christina called Sam, who answered on the second ring.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but is Tommy with you?”
“No, he is definitely not with me.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“You’re right—something is up with him, and if he doesn’t get his shit together—and soon—I may not be able to protect him at work.”
“Wh-what happened?”
“We had words.”
Christina reeled at the thought of him getting mouthy with his superior officer, even if she was his good friend. “What did he say?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s part of an ongoing issue that’s going to have to be addressed—and soon.”
Christina experienced another jolt of panic at the thought of him losing the job he had once loved almost as much as he had once loved her. That couldn’t happen. What would happen to him? To them? “Alex is in the E.R. with a high fever. He said he was nearby and coming but that was a while ago.”
“Damn it,” Sam said. “I’ll have Patrol find him and get him there.”
“Thank you.” She paused, took a deep breath and said, “When you get a minute, I think we’re long overdue for a conversation about what to do.”
“I agree. I can’t do it right now, but soon. I’m at the hospital too. I’ll check on you guys before I leave.”
“Thank you, Sam.”
“No problem.”
Christina ended the call and then checked to see if she had any new texts from Tommy. Nothing.
“Mama,” Alex said.
“I’m here, baby.” She held him close as heat radiated from his little body. One thing was becoming increasingly clear to her—if she left Tommy, she would take Alex with her. She again wondered if he’d even notice they were gone.
* * *
SAM MADE THE call to Patrol to get them looking for Sergeant Gonzales in the neighborhoods surrounding GW and then greeted Detective Erica Lucas. “Thanks for coming,” Sam said, shaking her hand.
“Anything for you, Lieutenant. What’ve we got?”
“A fire in Chevy Chase. Two adult DOA found burned with their hands and feet bound. We’re awaiting positive ID that they’re the kids’ parents. The fire marshal tells me the kids were found together in an upstairs closet. Not sure if they saw or heard anything, but we need to find out.”
“Ugh, sometimes I hate this job,” Erica said bluntly.
“Right there with you.”
“What do they know about the parents?”
“I assume nothing yet, and we say nothing until we know for sure.”
“Got it. While I was waiting for you, I cleared the way with the triage nurse. Let’s get this over with.” Erica nodded to the nurse, who gestured for them to follow her.
“We need the DNA sample right away,” Sam said.
“I’m on it.”
People in the waiting room recognized Sam and began to buzz as she walked through with Erica. Sam avoided eye contact, not in the mood to be waylaid by people wanting selfies or autographs or other things that would interfere with the job she was there to do. At times like this, having a Secret Service detail would come in handy, but it was the rest of the time, when she didn’t need their help, that kept her from agreeing to it. The thought of being tailed through her days on the job made her twitchy.
“Big wedding for you guys this week, huh?” Erica asked.
“Yep.”
“And you’re his best man?”
“Best man-woman. Get it right.”
Erica laughed. “My apologies. He’s adorable. I’m so happy for him.”
“Yes, he is, and so am I. Don’t ever tell him I said he’s adorable. That’ll make him even more unmanageable than he already is.”
“I won’t breathe a word.”
The nurse stopped outside a cubicle where two little blond heads huddled together under a blanket.
Sam couldn’t look away. They were so tiny and alone and frightened. She wanted to scoop them up, take them out of there and make sure they were never afraid or hurt again. She’d never experienced anything quite like the immediate reaction she had to seeing their faces for the first time.
“Please wait here for the doctor caring for the children,” the nurse said, as Sam continued to stare at them. “He’ll be right with you.”
“Thank you.” Erica leaned against the wall and glanced at Sam. “You still have a spot to fill in Homicide?” Sam had offered the spot vacated by Will Tyrone to Erica, but she’d chosen to remain in Special Victims.
“Yep.” Sam finally tore her gaze away from the kids and blinked to focus on Erica. “Are you reconsidering my offer?”
“I might be. Things in SVU have been stressful lately.”
“How so?”
“One word—Ramsey.”
Sam cringed. She hated the son of a bitch SVU sergeant who’d said she’d gotten what she deserved when Lieutenant Stahl took her hostage and tortured her. “What about him?”
“Ever since the U.S. Attorney decided not to charge you for assaulting him, he’s been even more out of control than he was before. If I had to vote someone most likely to start shooting up the workplace, Ramsey would win. Hands down.”
Sam straightened out of the slouch she’d been in as she too leaned against the wall. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s so angry. All the time. Ranting about you and the unfairness of you getting away with assaulting him and how you sucked your way to the top and how women have no place in the department and—”
“He actually said that? Out loud?”
“Yep.”
“Who else heard it?”
“Our entire squad, except for Davidson,” she said, referring to their lieutenant, “was there for the latest diatribe on Friday.”
“You need to report that, Erica.”
“I know,” she said, sighing. “I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. It’s just so exhausting dealing with jackasses on the job.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“I’ll talk to Malone in the morning.”
“You didn’t ask for my advice, but I’d call him tonight. Sooner is better for something like this.”
Erica nodded. “I hear you, and I’ll do it tonight.”
Dr. Anderson, the E.R. doctor Sam knew far too well, approached them. “Lieutenant, I’d say it’s good to see you, but...” He glanced at the children with sympathy.
“How are they?” Sam asked.
Lowering his voice, he said, “Physically unharmed, but very quiet. We conducted physical examinations on both, and neither said a word, even in response to questions. The hospital’s social worker has been called in.”
“We need DNA samples,” Sam said. “Can you help us with that?”
“Yes, no problem.”
“What’s been lined up for them until we figure out the family situation?” Erica asked.
“Nothing yet,” Anderson said. “We were waiting for you to arrive with plans to go from there.”
“I’ll take them,” Sam said without hesitation.
The other two looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had.
“Nick and I jumped through the foster parent hoops when we first had Scotty. We’re licensed.”
“Sam,” Erica said. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to, but they need a place to sleep tonight. I can give them that with the best security in the world around them.” The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. To her anyway. She’d worry about what the Secret Service had to say about it when she got home. What were they going to do? Toss two kids who’d most likely been orphaned out on the street? They wouldn’t do that. Would they?
“If you’re certain, I can bring in our staff social worker and go from there,” Anderson said.
“I’m certain,” Sam said, even as a little voice inside her said she probably ought to at least check with Nick before she agreed to such a thing. But it was one night. She knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t object to hosting two kids in need for one night.
“Before we go in,” Sam said, “I need to notify their school that they were found alive. Give me one second.”
“Come in when you’re ready,” Anderson said. “I’ll take care of the DNA.”
Sam withdrew the business card Mrs. Reeve had given her and put through the call. “This is Lieutenant Holland, MPD.”
“Yes, hello. How can I help you?”
“I wanted to let you know that Alden and Aubrey Beauclair were found alive in their home.”
“Oh thank goodness. That’s such good news.”
“They’re understandably traumatized.”
“Of course. If there’s anything we can do, you need only to ask.”
“Will do. Thanks again.” Sam closed the phone and turned back to Erica. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Sam and Erica went into the cubicle where the children sat on the same bed. Their big blue eyes warily took in the room full of strangers. Sam’s heart went out to them and made her wish for a magic wand that she could wave to undo this horrible event.
Dr. Anderson handed Sam the DNA swabs wrapped for transport.
“Hi, Alden and Aubrey,” Erica said gently. “My name is Erica. This is my friend Sam, and we’re here to help you.”
“Hi there,” Sam said.
Erica sat on the edge of the mattress and talked to the children about their school, the stuffed bear that Aubrey hugged to her chest, the mermaid on her top and the football logo on Alden’s shirt—anything she could think of to find a connection and hopefully a breakthrough.
She kept at it for twenty minutes until Aubrey finally giggled at something silly that Erica had said.
Alden seemed to take his lead from his sister and became more animated after her giggle gave him permission.
Sam had to give major props to Erica. She had handled them beautifully and delicately and with consummate skill.
Erica tried to bring them around to talking about what they might’ve seen or heard in their home the night before, but they immediately retreated from that topic, so she didn’t push.
“Where’s Mommy?” Aubrey asked in a tiny voice.
“She can’t be here right now,” Sam said.
They couldn’t broach that topic until their parents were positively identified. When the staff social worker arrived, Dr. Anderson took her outside the cubical to consult with her.
“I want Mommy,” Aubrey said, her eyes shiny with tears as she plopped her thumb into her mouth.
Sam wanted to cry right along with her.
“I know, honey,” Erica said, glancing at Sam.
“So, guys,” Sam said, “I was wondering if maybe you could have a sleepover at my house. We can have ice cream and watch any movie you want. What do you think?”
Aubrey shook her head. “Mommy said not to talk to strangers.”
“Mommy is very smart, and she’s right, you shouldn’t talk to strangers.” Sam removed her badge from her pocket and opened it to show the children.
Alden reached for the badge.
Sam let him hold it and touch it and fully examine it.
“I’m a police officer, and my job is to keep you and everyone else in the city safe. You would be very safe with me and my family, and I promise we’d take very good care of you, right, Erica?”
“Oh yes,” Erica said. “Do you know who Lieutenant Sam’s husband is?”
Aubrey shook her head.
“He’s the vice president of the whole United States. How much fun would it be to meet him?”
Aubrey removed her thumb. “Do you live in the White House?”
“Nope,” Sam said. “That’s the president’s house. My husband is the vice president, but we have a nice house where you’ll be very comfortable and safe.”
Aubrey glanced at Alden, who only shrugged. Apparently, she was the decision-maker for the two of them.
“You’re sure Mommy can’t come tonight?” Aubrey asked, her chin quivering.
“Yes, honey,” Sam said. “I’m sure.”
After a long pause, Aubrey said, “Okay. We can go with you.”
Sam released the deep breath she’d held as she waited for Aubrey to decide. “Let me talk to Dr. Anderson and see if it’s okay for us to leave. I’ll be right back, but Erica will be here with you.” Sam stepped out of the room to consult with Anderson and the social worker, who wore a name tag identifying her as Mrs. Wallace.
Dr. Anderson introduced the two women.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mrs. Wallace shook Sam’s hand. “I’m a big fan of yours and your husband’s.”
“Thank you. My husband and I are licensed foster parents, and I’d like to take the Beauclair children for the night until more permanent accommodations can be arranged. In addition to myself and my husband, we have a full-time child care provider, who is also licensed to care for the children in our absence as was required by the court when we were in the process of adopting our son.”
Mrs. Wallace listened intently.
“Not to mention, we’re surrounded by the finest security money can buy in the form of the Secret Service. The children will be safe with us.”
“I would need to verify your licensed status, as a mere formality,” Mrs. Wallace said.
“Of course. If you give me an email address, I will have my husband send it over.”
Mrs. Wallace handed over her card. “I’ll watch for the email from the vice president.”
The way she said that had Sam wondering if the woman would frame the email. She wouldn’t put it past her. People were so weird. “Let me know when I’m cleared to take the children. They’ve been through enough in the last twenty-four hours. They don’t need to be here any longer than necessary.”
“Understood,” Mrs. Wallace said.
Sam walked away from them, opened her phone and called Nick.
“Hey, babe. Are you almost home?”
“Almost, but I have a slight wrinkle.”
“What’s that?”
Sam told him about the Beauclair children, what she’d offered to do for them and what she needed from him. “I hope it’s okay. They’re so little, and their parents are most likely dead and—”
“Of course it’s okay. Give me the email address for the social worker, and I’ll send her a copy of our license.”
“Thank you.” Sam closed her eyes and gave silent thanks for the best husband ever. No matter what she threw at him, he rolled with her. She tried to do the same for him, which was how she’d ended up married to the vice president of the United States. “We’ll be there soon.”
“I’ll make beds for them.”
“Just do one. I think they’d prefer to be together.”
“Got it.”
“Thank you for this, Nick.”
“It’s no problem. We certainly have plenty of room for two little ones who need a place to stay for a while.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
“We’ll be waiting for you.”
When Sam returned to the cubicle, Dr. Anderson was outside, typing notes on a laptop that sat on a computer station on wheels. “All set,” she told him. “He’s emailing a copy of the license to Mrs. Wallace.”
“She’ll be delighted to get an email from him,” Anderson said with a snarky grin.
“I got that feeling as well. I wondered if she might frame it.”
His bark of laughter made her smile. “You surprise me, Lieutenant.”
“Why’s that?”
“With everything you’ve already got going on in your life, I wouldn’t think you’d have time for foster children.”
“I don’t, but I’ll make time.”
“It’s a good thing you and your husband are doing. If you’re not careful, you’ll get a reputation for being a softy.”
“Shut your mouth. If that gets out, I’ll know exactly where it came from.”
“Don’t worry,” he said gravely even as his eyes twinkled with mirth. “Your secret is safe with me.”