Page 2 of State of Alert

As she walked back to the Secret Service SUV, the medical examiner’s vehicle was arriving. She stopped to talk to Dr. Lindsey McNamara and was relieved to see that some of the pink had returned to Lindsey’s cheeks after a recent illness had left her pale and listless.

“What’ve we got?” Lindsey asked as she pulled on latex gloves.

“Navy Lieutenant Commander Juan Rodriguez, military attaché to the president.”

“Oh no. Sam… Is he the one…”

“Who told Nick that the Joint Chiefs wanted a regime change? Yep.”

“Shit.”

“Only child of a single mom.”

Lindsey’s deep sigh said it all.

“I’m going home to talk to Nick. I’ll catch up shortly.”

“Take your time. We’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Linds. Keep it confidential for now.”

“No one will hear about it from us.”

“Appreciate it.”

Vernon held the SUV door for Sam and then closed it when she was inside the vehicle.

“Where to?” he asked when he was back in the driver’s seat.

“Home, please.”

He gave her a curious look in the rearview mirror, but didn’t ask any questions.

It was highly unusual for her to return to the White House in the middle of a shift, but there was nothing usual about finding the body of one of her husband’s colleagues in a clothing donation bin on New York Avenue.

Enclosed in the back seat of the SUV, Sam wanted to punch something—or someone. She’d give anything to not have to tell her beloved husband this dreadful news, even if he’d been halfway expecting it for days now. His tenure as president had been far more traumatic than either of them could’ve anticipated when he took the oath of office on Thanksgiving.

Since then, they’d dealt with two mass shootings, the sudden death of her brother-in-law, the thwarted military coup, claims of illegitimacy because Nick had never been elected vice president or president and endless demands on their time, energy and emotions. That, and the relentless pace of a national campaign, was exactly why he’d announced his decision not to run for president when his tenure as vice president ended. He’d waited all his life for the family they now had, and he didn’t want to be away from them for months on end campaigning for a job he didn’t want.

Then Nelson had dropped dead, rendering that decision a moot point—and gave Nick’s detractors even more to talk about by noting the country was “stuck with” a president who didn’t even want the job. That wasn’t what he’d said when heannounced his decision to sit out the next election cycle, but they didn’t care about the truth.

It’d been nonstop bullshit for five straight months.

And now this.

Her heart ached for him.

Juan had risked everything to inform Nick about the Joint Chiefs’ rumored plan to overthrow the “illegitimate” president. How had Juan found out about what they were up to? Sam never had heard the answer to that question and would really like to know.

The Naval Criminal Investigative Service would be involved in this case, which would complicate things. Battling over jurisdiction was one of her least favorite parts of the job. The murder had occurred in DC, thus the case belonged to the Metro PD, but they’d be forced to play nice with NCIS.

Maybe it would work out in their favor if NCIS helped them quickly solve the case rather than engaging in a turf war that would detract from their common goal of figuring out who’d killed Juan.

Sam’s anxiety spiked as they drove through the gates to the White House fifteen minutes later. She had to go in there and tell Nick the news he’d been dreading, news he would then have to share with Juan’s devoted mother.

Vernon opened the car door.

Sam stared at the ground, summoning the will to move forward, to do what needed to be done.

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