Page 70 of State of Affairs (First Family 1)

“Not anymore.”

“Sir, would you please open the door? We’re not here to cause you any trouble.”

“If you’re here about that punk, you’re causing me trouble.”

“Please put down your weapon and open the door.”

“Not until you do.”

Sam nodded to Freddie, and they both lowered their weapons.

A series of locks disengaged, and a Black man in his mid to late forties opened the door. He stood in the doorway, making it clear they weren’t welcome in his home. “What’s he done now?”

“Are you his father?”

“Unfortunately.”

Sam glanced at Freddie before forcing herself to say the words. “I’m sorry to say your son was found dead on Rhode Island Avenue a short time ago.”

The man’s expression never changed. “Is that all?”

“Can you tell us anything about his associates or activities?”

He huffed out a laugh. “No, I can’t, because I threw him out of here after he beat up his mother when she wouldn’t give him money for drugs. This after we each worked three jobs to pay for his four trips to rehab. We haven’t had any contact with him in more than a year.”

“Is your wife at home?”

“She’s asleep, and I’m not waking her up to talk about him.”

“I’m sorry to have to ask if you know where he was living.”

“I have no idea.”

“How about any known associates?”

“No clue. He moved on from the kids he grew up with. They dropped him when he became a criminal to support his drug habit.”

Sam realized they weren’t going to get anything useful from him. She handed him her card. “If you think of anything we should know, please call me. My cell number is on there.”

“Aren’t you the new first lady?”

“I am.”

“And you’re still a cop?”

“That’s right.”

She could feel the disapproval coming from him, but didn’t care enough to ask him what the problem was. As they returned to the car, Sam hated having to turn her back on him and his gun. Her anxiety spiked into the red zone.

“What now?” Freddie asked.

“In the morning, I’ll call my parole officer friend Brendan Sullivan to see what I can find out about Carter and where he was living.” Sullivan had been her ex-husband Peter’s PO and had been helpful to her in the past. “We’ll pick it up at zero eight hundred. I can give it half a day before I have a thing… at the White House.” Speaking of anxiety.

Freddie’s lips quivered.

“If you laugh, I’ll stab you with the rustiest steak knife I can find.”

“I’m not laughing.”

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