Page 1 of State of Alert

CHAPTER ONE

Lieutenant Sam Holland was silent during the ride from Metro PD headquarters to New York Avenue, where the body of Navy Lieutenant Commander Juan Rodriguez had been found in a clothing donation bin. She and her team had been riding high off an arrest in the murder of U.S. Attorney Tom Forrester—after Sam took down murderer Harlan Peckham on a city street—when the word came that the missing naval officer’s body had been found.

Sam had experienced a crushing wave of grief on behalf of her husband, President Nick Cappuano, who’d worked closely with Juan at the White House.

Her partner, Detective Freddie Cruz, sat next to her in the back seat of her Secret Service SUV, while Sergeant Tommy “Gonzo” Gonzales was across from her. Apparently sensing her tension, her two closest colleagues and friends were quiet, too.

How would she ever tell Nick that Juan, the military attaché who’d tipped him off about a possible military overthrow of his administration, had been found murdered? Nick had been inconsolable, and had barely slept in days, since he’d learned Juan was missing. His stress was her stress, which meant neither of them had been getting much sleep while MPDofficers and multiple federal agencies searched for the missing officer.

Nick had spoken to Juan’s mother and learned she’d raised him as a single mom. She owned a hair salon in Philadelphia that’d supported them. He’d also learned that Juan was her only child, which had only added to his despair.

Vernon, Sam’s lead Secret Service agent, brought the black SUV to a stop about a block from where Patrol officers had taped off the box where Juan’s body had been found by a volunteer from the agency that collected used clothing.

“Hang on for just a second.” Vernon and his partner for the day, Agent Quigley, got out of the SUV to confer with other agents who’d arrived ahead of them.

This was the part of having a detail that drove her crazy. She was a highly trained police officer capable of protecting herself, but she had to wait for the Secret Service to ensure the scene was safe for her to do her job.

“You guys go ahead and get started,” she said to Freddie and Gonzo. “I’ll be right there. I hope.”

Her colleagues got out of the SUV and closed the doors behind them.

Sam watched them go as she acknowledged that one of them would have to take the lead on this case since she’d known Juan personally. As one of the keepers of the “nuclear football” briefcase that went everywhere the president did, Juan had been a frequent presence in their lives over the last five months since President Nelson died suddenly, giving Nick a promotion neither he nor Sam had wanted. Him being the vice president had been more than enough for them.

Everything had changed since they got the phone call about Nelson’s untimely death.

Well, a few things had stayed the same, such as the tight bond she and Nick shared as a couple, and the ones they had with their kids, extended family and close friends. Those ties sustained them now that they were under the most intensescrutiny of anyone in the world, with a level of attention on their every move that could make them insane if they allowed it to.

Sam refused to let that happen, which was much harder than it might seem with new piles of shit hitting the fan constantly.

In the hours since they’d closed the investigation into the murder of U.S. Attorney Tom Forrester and the shooting of FBI Special Agent-in-Charge Avery Hill, which had been tied to a single shooter, Sam had been oddly numb, especially as the search for Juan had intensified. She told herself the feeling was normal after having lost a close colleague in Tom and nearly losing another close colleague—and friend—in Avery. Thankfully, he would make a full recovery.

Eventually.

After nearly sixteen years on the job, she knew by now what was part of the drill and what wasn’t. Total numbness wasn’t normal, no matter how much she wished to believe otherwise. At some point, she’d have to do something about that, but with a new murder to deal with, now was not that time.

Vernon opened her door. “All clear.”

“Thanks.”

Sam got out of the car and walked over to join Freddie and Gonzo, who were leaning into the back side of the clothing donation bin. She didn’t want to look in there and confirm what she already knew, that Juan was dead, that someone had killed him, possibly because he’d warned Nick about the Joint Chiefs’ nefarious plan. The thought of another case that required wading through hip-deep bureaucracy exhausted her. She’d just done ten rounds with her husband’s Attorney General and managed to eke out a victory of sorts after Nick fired Reginald Cox for stonewalling Sam and her team, and for being deeply in debt from gambling. They’d uncovered the gambling in the course of their investigation.

Her colleagues stepped aside to allow her close enough to the bin to see inside.

“Hold your breath,” Freddie said.

Sam was thankful for the warning as she bent at the waist for a closer look. The sight of Juan’s khaki uniform with the ribbons on his chest hit her like a punch to the heart.

This would devastate Nick, who’d become fond of the eager young officer. She could see only the left side of his face, enough to confirm his identity.

“I need to go home.” She couldn’t let Nick hear this news from anyone else. “Can you guys take the lead and keep me in the loop?”

“Absolutely,” Gonzo said. “We’re on it.”

“I’m really sorry about this, Sam,” her kindhearted partner said.

Sam gave Freddie’s arm a squeeze. “Thanks. Me, too. Keep a tight lid until I have a chance to tell Nick and he can notify Juan’s mother.”

“Will do,” Gonzo said.

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