Page 13 of State of Denial

“Where did they meet?”

“In college at UVA. Marcel went to medical school there, as well, while Liliana went to law school at American. They’ve lived in the District since they finished school fifteen years ago now.”

“Did something change between them recently?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but there’d been tension. Their oldest daughter, Eloise, was an Olympic-caliber gymnast. The demands of her competitions and training put strain on the entire family.”

Sam made a note to investigate the daughter’s gymnastics situation, especially in light of the fact that she had three bullet wounds while her siblings each had one. “Was there anything else going on that you knew of that might’ve led to murder?” She still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a murder-suicide, but Graciela’s conviction that Marcel never would’ve harmed his family would have Sam casting a wider net.

“Nothing that I can think of. They’re all well-liked by their colleagues and peers. They have a wide circle of friends. I just can’t imagine who’d want to harm them.”

A knock on the door sounded.

“Come in.”

Freddie poked his head in. “Mrs. Blanchet’s friend is here.”

“She can come in.”

Bertie was as round as she was tall. Her Black face was so youthful that only her gray hair gave away her age. The two women hugged.

“Thank you for coming,” Graciela said tearfully.

“Of course I came. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Graciela leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” To Sam, Bertie said, “What else do you need from us?”

Sam went through the usual list of routine questions about the family’s closest circle of friends and family, their daily routines and the kids’ school information.

After about two hours of questioning, she could see the older woman was beginning to tire. “The medical examiner will perform autopsies, which is standard in a situation such as this, and then we’ll release the bodies to a funeral home. You’ll need to choose one.”

“Green’s on Mass Ave handled the arrangements when my husband passed,” Bertie said. “They were caring and compassionate.”

“That’s fine,” Graciela said.

Sam made a note of the funeral home owned by Detective Cameron Green’s family. “I’ll pass that on to Dr. McNamara, the ME.” She pushed her business card across the table. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant, or if I can be of any assistance to you and your family, please call me. My cell number is on the back of the card.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s amazing,” Bertie said, gazing at Sam as she retrieved the business card from the table.

“What is?” Sam asked, though she suspected she knew what Bertie would say.

“That you’re the first ladyanda police detective.”

Sam shrugged. “I had this job long before I was first lady.”

“You’re setting an amazing example for working mothers.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t mention that she felt guilty all the time for the time she spent away from her children. “I can ask someone from Patrol to give you a ride home.”

“That’s all right,” Bertie said. “I have my car. I’ll see Graciela home and stay with her until her son arrives.”

Sam walked them out and said goodbye at the main door. When she turned to head back to the pit, Chief Farnsworth was waiting for her.

“Heard you caught a tough one today.”

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