“Yes, will do. Just leave the keys in both of them in case we have to move them.”

“We’re not leaving the keys,” Vernon said. “Jimmy can stay with the car.”

“I miss all the fun stuff,” Jimmy said with a good-natured grin.

“Right there with you, brother,” Freddie said, fist-bumping the younger of the two agents.

“If you two are done with your bromance, we’ve got work to do,” Sam said.

“I’m with you, Lieutenant,” Freddie said.

“As am I,” Vernon added.

“I’ll just be here minding the vehicles,” Jimmy said.

Sam failed to hold back a laugh.

“Damned insubordinate kids,” Vernon muttered.

“I feel you,” Sam said, earning a glare from her partner.

As they made their way to the elevators, they turned every head in the lobby of the busy hotel—or she turned every head. Whatever. She pretended like she didn’t notice people looking at her. On the seventh floor, they encountered a Patrol officer outside the elevators.

Even though he recognized her, they still went through the required steps to show identification.

“They’re in 710 and 712,” the officer said. “The friends are across the hall in 709.”

“Thanks,” Sam said.

She went to 710 and knocked on the door.

Bob Tappen answered, looking disheveled and exhausted. He stepped aside to let her and Freddie in.

Vernon waited in the hallway.

“Do you have any news about what happened to my wife?” Bob asked.

“Not yet. We’re working the case as we always do, and we need more help from you and your family. As the people closest to Pam, you’re our best hope of generating information that’ll hopefully lead to answers.”

“Whatever we can do.”

“Would you ask your children and Pam’s friend to join us?”

“Sure.” Bob went to the door that adjoined his room with another and returned with his sons and daughter in tow. They didn’t look much better than he did. “This is Molly.”

Sam shook the hand of the pretty young woman. She had dark hair and blue eyes that were red and swollen from hours of tears. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

Bob sent a text to Amy, who joined them a minute later.

“Is there news?” she asked. She was tall, with reddish-brown hair and green eyes that were also ravaged by grief.

“Nothing yet,” Sam said, addressing the group. “We need your help to try to understand what happened to Pam.” To Bob, she said, “Is it okay to speak freely about the murder in front of your children?”

He waved a weary hand. “They already know everything I know.

“The way she was murdered feels deeply personal, as if the person wanted her to suffer. I’m sorry to have to put this in such blunt terms, but she was left bound and gagged—and alive—inside her car in freezing weather. The person who did this to her wanted her to die a slow, agonizing death.”