State of Affairs

by Marie Force

  “I understand that, but you’re going to have to make them understand too. And you’re going to have to do it in a way that wins them over to your way of thinking.”

  “Are you saying I have to charm them?”

  “Um, well… Charm isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

  “Exactly! So how am I supposed to do that?”

  “Talk to them about what the job means to you, how you serve the people by protecting them, by locking up murderers. Nick knows, but the others don’t. Make them see why this matters to you and to others.”

  “You’re right. He’s right. Everyone is right. That’s the problem. I know it’s dangerous for me to be without protection.”

  “You’d be one hell of a prize for anyone trying to get the president’s attention. He’s never been shy about what you mean to him.”

  “I know,” she said, sighing. “Someone at the party posted a picture of him there, and now it’s trending on Twitter that he’s got time to attend a birthday party when the Iranians are holding the secretary of State hostage.”

  “Come on,” Freddie said. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. It was one of those fucking parents. Next time, we’re banning phones and hiring a photographer to take pictures for everyone.”

  “You’ll have a White House photographer at your disposal.”

  “Huh, well, that’s one perk.”

  “Dude, you’re going to have butlers.”

  “Not sure how I feel about people waiting on me. Makes my blue collar feel kinda tight.”

  Freddie cracked up. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it, and remember, the job of the butlers is to serve the first family. You have to let them do their jobs, and you have to be gracious about it.”

  “So I have to be charming and gracious?”

  “I’m afraid so, and for what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be a fantastic, beloved first lady.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I’m not changing my mind about that. People already love you guys, and they’re only going to love you more when they really get to know you.”

  “I guess we’ll see. On Monday, we’re reopening Calvin Worthington’s case, so come in ready to dig deep. I promised Lenore we’d get justice for her son, and I fully intend to honor that promise.”

  “I’ll be there, and I’ll be there for you and Nick through all of this. I’m so incredibly proud of you guys. My friends, the first couple. It’s unreal.”

  “Thank you,” she said, touched by his emotional outpouring, “but if you break into ‘Kumbaya,’ I’m going to throat-punch you the next time I see you.”

  “Haha, I wouldn’t offend you by singing. Call me if you need anything before Monday.”

  “Dive into the Worthington files. I emailed you a copy of everything I have.”

  “I saw that earlier, and I’m going to give it some time tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. We’re going to get this done for Lenore. She’s waited long enough for justice for her son.”

  “Completely agree. I’m on it.”

  “Hey, one more thing. Will you call Devon Sinclair and ask him to check on Ezra Smith in Fairfax County?”

  “Gigi’s ex?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh, why are we helping him get a lawyer after what he did to her?”

  “Because from all accounts, his recent behavior has been out of character. I think he needs a mental health eval, and for Gigi’s sake, I want to make sure he’s represented. I thought of Devon after we saw him recently.” Devon had played into an earlier case involving his late uncle, Julian Sinclair, who’d been nominated to the Supreme Court before his murder.

  “All right. I’ll find his number and give him a call.”

  “Tell him it’s me asking.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you Monday, if not before.”

  “Are you still on call for any homicides?”

  “You bet your ass I am.”

  “That’s okay. Elin likes my ass. Not willing to risk it.”

  “Shut up and go away.”

  He hung up laughing, pleased with himself and his stupid joke.

  “Insubordinate fool,” she muttered as she crossed the 14th Street Bridge that took her from Northern Virginia back into the District where she belonged. The thought had her longing for her dad, who always hated to leave the District for any reason. “Ah, Skippy. Where are you when I need you? Nick is the freaking president. Can you even believe it? I can’t wrap my head around everything that’s happened in the last forty-eight hours.” Her eyes filled with tears that she couldn’t give in to. If she started crying, she might never stop. “I sure do miss you, Dad. I could use your calm voice right now, telling me how to handle this unexpected detour. You’d know just what I should do.”

  In a spontaneous moment, Sam decided to take the exit to her favorite place in the capital city. She parallel parked on 23rd Street, found an MPD ball cap in her trunk and tugged it down over her eyes in the hope that she wouldn’t be recognized. She jogged toward the Lincoln Memorial, which had always been the place she’d been drawn to when life became too much for her. On the white marble steps, she nodded to the guard on duty, who didn’t seem to realize he was greeting the new first lady.

  She landed on her preferred side of the monument that paid tribute to the Gettysburg Address and slid down the wall to sit on the cold marble floor. Just that quickly, she felt a sense of peace come over her as she took the first deep breath she’d been able to manage since Nick got The Call, as it would forever be known.

  Looking up at Mr. Lincoln from Springfield, Illinois, she wondered what he’d have to say about the new president. Would he approve of Nick Cappuano from Lowell, Massachusetts? Though they were of different political parties, Sam had to believe that Lincoln would recognize the fundamental honor and decency that Nick brought to everything he did.

  “I don’t want to be first lady, Abe,” she whispered. “I really, really don’t. But I love him so much. So, so much. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Even this.” She wiped tears from her face that made her angry. Under normal circumstances, she wasn’t a weepy kind of woman, but the sheer magnitude of what’d happened had her emotions all over the place as she tried to accommodate this massive change in their lives.

  They’d have to move. Granted, it would only be across town, but it might as well be overseas for the changes that move would bring. They’d be in the glare of the most relentless spotlight on earth, their every word and action critiqued by people who’d never meet them or really know them. Their already high profile would become even more so, which spiked anxiety the likes of which she hadn’t felt this acutely since Stahl wrapped her in razor wire and threatened to set her on fire.

  And then she was laughing at the sheer madness of comparing being first lady to being wrapped in razor wire. That was worse. For sure. But this…

  It was a lot on top of a lot, and it would take a minute to figure out how she was supposed to react, to behave, to go forward from here. Her phone rang, and she checked the caller ID to make sure it wasn’t Eli or Scotty looking for her. She decided to take the call from her new friend Roni Connolly.

  “Hey.”

  “I was planning the voice mail I was going to leave. I didn’t expect you to actually answer.”

  “Well, here I am.” She’d met Roni after her young husband, Patrick, was killed by a stray bullet.

  “How are you?” Roni asked.

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  Roni laughed. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

  “I’m currently sitting at my favorite place in the District, staring up at Lincoln and asking him how in the hell I’m supposed to do this.”

  “Are you there by yourself?”

  “Yep.”

  “How’d you pull that off?”

  “I walked out of my house to deal with a hostage situation that involved the family of one of my detectives.�
�

  “Is the family okay?”

  “They are now.”

  “Cripes, your life is too crazy.”

  “And getting more so by the minute.”

  “Can I do anything for you as your newest friend?”

  Sam smiled. She liked this woman—a lot—and that was saying something, since she usually hated people. “Actually, there is something you can do for me if you’re so inclined.”

  “Whatever you need. Just name it.”

  That made Sam laugh again. “You ought to wait to hear what it is before you say that.”

  “You don’t scare me. Other things do, but you don’t.”

  “Clearly, I’m doing something wrong with you if that’s the case.”

  “Whatever,” Roni said sarcastically, which only made Sam like her more. Sarcasm was one of her favorite features in a potential friend. “Bring it on.”

  “I’m in need of a first lady communications director and press secretary and wondered if you might want the job.” After a long moment of complete silence, Sam said, “Hello? Roni? Are you there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Have I finally found a way to render you speechless?”

  “I think maybe you have.”

  Sam cracked up. “Oh, come on. You’re not going to roll over that easily, are you?”

  “Uh, well… You’re not serious about this, are you?”

  “I am. The woman I had as second lady is getting married and leaving town. When they told me I’d need a new one, I immediately thought of you.”

  “I’m an obituary writer, Sam. Not a press secretary.”

  “I assume you went to school for the job you currently hold?”

  “I went to journalism school at the University of Virginia.”

  “There you go. You’re qualified.”

  “No, I’m not!”

  “You have the most important qualification as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “I assume that as my newest friend—and the first friend I’ve bothered to make in a while—you’d be somewhat loyal to me, my husband, our family.”

  “I would be. Of course I would, but I don’t know anything about being a press secretary.”

  “And I know nothing about being first lady. Maybe we could figure it out together?”

  “You need to think about this.”

  “I have. I want you. Any questions?”

  “For God’s sake, Sam. You need someone who knows what they’re doing, who isn’t a red-hot emotional-widow mess. You need—”

  “I need you, Roni. I need my friend to do this for me and to have my back. Can you do that?”

  “You’re really serious about this?” she asked, her voice higher than Sam had ever heard it.

  “Dead serious.”

  A long sigh came from Roni.

  “Do you want some time to think about it?” Sam asked.

  “No, I don’t want time to think about it.”

  Sam’s heart sank at the possibility of having to hire a stranger for the critical role of speaking for her. She could ask Darren Tabor, who also worked for the Star, but she suspected he wouldn’t want to change sides. He was a reporter through and through. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “What do you understand?”

  “That you don’t want to do it. I know you’ve got a lot going on and that you’re grieving. It’s a big ask and probably insensitive of me to even propose this to you, but I told you I’d be a shit friend.” Sam stopped talking when she realized Roni was laughing. “What’s so funny?”

  “You are. I never said I didn’t want to do it. I just said I didn’t need time to think about saying yes.”

  “You’re saying yes?”

  “That’s what I just said. But I’m warning you I’m apt to be a shit press secretary.”

  “I’m a shit friend, so we’re good.”

  “I may be a shit press secretary, but I’ll always be your friend and will protect you with everything I’ve got.”

  “You’re hired.”

  Roni’s giddy laughter filled Sam with an unreasonable feeling of joy. Sam hoped the new job might provide a distraction that would help Roni adjust to her new normal. “I seriously can’t believe you asked me.”

  “Believe it. Other than your professional skills, you have the most important quality.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what that is…”

  “I actually like you. Do you know how rare that is?”

  Roni laughed some more. “Gee, I’m so honored.”

  “You should be. Ask anyone, it’s a rare, rare thing for me to admit to actually liking someone.”

  “When do I start?”

  “Andrea is here until the end of the year, so after the holidays?”

  “That sounds good. I probably ought to give the Star some notice.”

  “If you need more time than that, my chief of staff, Lilia, can handle things for a while, I suppose. She’s awesome. You’ll like her.”

  “That makes two people you actually like. Be careful, you might get a reputation for being a nice person who likes people.”

  “Shut your filthy mouth.”

  Roni was laughing so hard, she couldn’t speak for a second. “In case I forget to say so, thank you for this. It may turn out to be just what I need.”

  “You say that now. Talk to me in a couple of months when you’re ready to have me murdered.”

  “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  Sam cringed when she realized what she’d said. “Jeez, Roni. I’m sorry. That was incredibly insensitive.”

  “Stop. I didn’t even think of Patrick when you said that.”

  “Still… I shouldn’t have gone there.”

  “Please don’t walk on eggshells around me. I’m tougher than I look.”

  “I already know that. Why do you think I asked you to run interference for me with the press? Because I know you can handle it.”

  “Means a lot to me. I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t, but if I let you down, I want you to say so, you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And don’t call me ma’am.”

  “Got it, sir.”

  Sam was looking forward to working with Roni, even if she wasn’t looking forward to being first lady. Having Roni and Lilia and the rest of her second lady staff helping her would make it a little more bearable. That was for sure. “Well, I suppose I ought to get my frozen ass home before they send out a search party.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  “Let me know when you’re thinking you’d like to start, and I’ll put Lilia in touch with you to handle the details.”

  “I will, and thank you again, Sam. You’ll never know what this means to me.”

  “Means a lot to me that you said yes when you had every good reason to say no.”

  “Funny, I couldn’t think of a single one. Talk soon.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam closed her phone and had to smile when she thought about Roni and the way she’d reacted to being asked to join Sam’s team. She was one hundred percent sure that Roni would do a brilliant job.

  Since her ass was, in fact, frozen, Sam pushed herself to her feet and stretched out the stiffness that came from sitting on cold marble. She looked up at Honest Abe. “Keep an eye on things in the White House for me, will you?”

  A good talk with Abe usually made her feel better. And while she was still deeply unsettled, the time with Abe and the chat with Roni had helped. When she went down the marble steps, the same guard nodded to her, but this time, he did a double take when he seemed to recognize her.

  Sam put her index finger over her lips. “Shhh,” she said without slowing. She hoped it wouldn’t be all over social media that she’d spent time at the Lincoln Memorial. It would suck if she couldn’t visit Abe when she needed to.

  The guard made a show of pretending to zip his lips, and Sam fo
und another person to like.

  “Best of luck to you and your husband,” he said. “We’re pulling for you.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Her phone rang as she walked to her car, and when she checked the caller ID, she saw the word Dispatch on the screen. Just seeing that word gave her a kick of adrenaline. “Holland.”

  “Lieutenant, I wasn’t sure if we’re still supposed to call you for every potential homicide.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Oh, um, well…”

  Not wanting to talk to the dispatcher about becoming first lady, she said, “What’ve you got?”

  “A report of a bleeding, unresponsive man on Rhode Island Avenue.” The dispatcher gave Sam the exact address.

  “Is he unresponsive or dead?”

  “The woman who called it in said she believes he’s dead.”

  “Was she with him?”

  “No, she found him when she was walking her dog.”

  “Got it. Please call Detective Cruz and Sergeant Gonzales and ask them to meet me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And let all the dispatchers know I’m to be called for any suspected homicide. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.” Sam ended the call and jogged to her car, eager to get to the scene as quickly as possible. In the back of her mind was the nagging concern that maybe she shouldn’t go, but she refused to think about that. If she gave in on the second day, she’d spend the next three years caving. No, like she had since the day she joined the police force fourteen years ago, Sam was going to do her job and hope for the best.

  Nick fumed while he waited for his call with the Iranian president to resume after the president had been temporarily “called away.” His ire was directed at the Iranian president, at David Nelson for dying, at the parent who posted the photo of him at the birthday party and at Sam for going rogue at the worst possible time. His entire body was rigid with tension that made his muscles tight and his jaw ache from clenching.

  “Did I really get put on hold?” Nick asked Terry and Teresa, both of whom sat across the table in the Situation Room. Earlier, Nick had been briefed on a wide range of military options available to rescue the secretary of State and his delegation. None of them were things he wanted to be thinking about on his second day in office—or ever, for that matter.