“She won’t be your detective for long.”
Sam told herself she shouldn’t engage, but damned if she could resist. “Why’s that?”
“You aren’t going to keep your job as first lady.” She paused, took a closer look at Sam and probably saw bullish determination. “Are you?”
“That’s the plan. If you don’t mind, I need to see Detective Dominguez.”
“Down the hall on the right.”
Sam walked away, but could feel everyone looking at her as she headed toward Gigi’s room, escorted by Vernon and Jimmy. Sometimes she wished people could just mind their own damned business, but she knew that was too much to ask, especially today when the world had woken to the news of a transfer of power in Washington. If she allowed herself to think about the implications of that seismic shift…
Nope. Not going there. Denial was her friend.
Outside of room 520, she glanced at Vernon. “You need to wait for me out here.”
“One of us needs to check the room before you go in.”
“That’s not going to happen.” The last thing Gigi needed was strange men in her room. “I’ll be fine. Please wait for me here.” Without giving them time to respond, Sam entered the darkened room, where Carlucci was standing guard over her partner’s bed. Dani, who was tall, blonde and curvy, came over to Sam.
Sam hugged her. “I got here as soon as I could.”
“You must be losing it. Both of you.”
Sam waved her hand to send the message that she didn’t want to talk about what was happening in her life. She wanted to talk about what was happening to Gigi. “How is she?”
“She had a rough night. She’s in a lot of pain. The son of a bitch ruptured her spleen. She had surgery overnight.”
“Jesus. Any sign of him?”
“Not yet. I want to be out there looking for him myself, but I don’t want to leave her, especially with him in the wind.”
“We can put people here to screen any visitors.”
“It’s okay. I’m in touch with Patrol and doing what I can from here. She doesn’t want her family to know she’s here, so I said I’d stay. I took leave.”
Sam finally ventured a glance at Gigi and bit back a gasp at the sight of her bruised and bloody face. The petite, dark-haired woman looked extra tiny in the hospital bed. “Son of a bitch.”
“I want to fucking murder him.”
“Don’t do that.”
“I won’t, but I want to.”
“Right there with you. What do we know about him?”
“Ezra Smith. Gigi went to high school with him in Fairfax. They’ve been on again-off again for years, and when she tried to finally end it with him for good, he didn’t take it well. That’s what I told you about last week. They’d had a big verbal altercation that’d nearly gotten physical, but she felt confident that she’d made her point.”
They already knew the guy had a sealed juvie record, but no record as an adult. Carlucci had investigated him on social media and picked up a vibe about him and past issues with other women, but had walked the fine line of giving Gigi a heads-up about that without tipping her hand that she’d been looking into him.
“Has she been awake?”
“Here and there. She’s due for pain meds soon, so she’ll probably be waking up. I haven’t asked any questions yet…”
“I’ll wait until she wakes up, and I’ll ask so you don’t have to.”
“Thanks for coming, LT. It’ll mean a lot to her, and it does to me too.”
“I would’ve been here sooner, but it’s been a weird day.”