him.
“I have to ask you one more thing before we go in.”
“What?”
“Where were you between the hours of ten p.m. and seven a.m.?”
Staring at her, incredulous, he said, “ I’m a suspect?”
“Everyone’s a suspect until they aren’t.”
“I was in my office all night getting ready for the vote until five-thirty this morning when I went to the gym for an hour,” he said, his teeth gritted with anger, frustration and grief over what he was about to do to people he loved.
“Can anyone confirm this?”
“Several of my staff were with me.”
“And you were seen at the gym?”
“There were a few other people there. I signed in and out.”
“Good,” she said, seeming relieved to know he had an alibi. “That’s good.”
Nick took a quick glance at the cars gathered in the driveway and swore softly under his breath. Terry’s Porsche was parked next to a Volvo wagon belonging to John’s sister Lizbeth, who was probably visiting for the day with her two young children.
“What?”
“The whole gang’s here.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to find some relief from the headache forming behind his right eye. “They’ll know the minute they see me that something’s wrong, so don’t go flashing the badge at them, okay?”
“I had no plans to,” she snapped.
Nonplussed by her tone, he said, “Let’s get this over with.” He went up the stairs and rang the bell.
An older woman wearing a gray sweat suit with Nikes answered the door and greeted him with a warm hug.
“Nick! What a nice surprise! Come in.”
“Hi, Carrie,” he said, kissing her cheek. “This is Sergeant Sam Holland. Carrie is like a member of the family and keeps everyone in line.”
“Which is no easy task.” Carrie shook Sam’s outstretched hand and sized up the younger woman before turning back to Nick, her approval apparent. “I’ve been telling Nick for years that he needs to settle down—”
“Don’t go there, Carrie.” He made an effort to keep his tone light even though his heart was heavy and burdened by what he had to tell her and the others. How he wished he were here to introduce his “family” to his new girlfriend. “Are they home?”
“Down at the stables with the kids. I’ll give them a call.”
Nick rested his hand on her arm. “Tell them to leave the kids there, okay?”
Her wise old eyes narrowed, this time seeing the sorrow and grief that were no doubt etched into his face. “Nick?”
“Call them, Carrie.”
Watching her walk away, Nick sagged under the weight of what he was about to do to her, to all of them, and was surprised to feel Sam’s hand on his back. He turned to her and was once again caught off guard by the punch of emotion that ripped through him when he found her pale blue eyes watching him with concern.
They stared at each other for a long, breathless moment until they heard Carrie coming back. Nick tore his eyes off Sam and turned to Carrie.
“They’ll be here in a minute,” she said, clearly trying to maintain her composure and brace herself for what she was about to hear. “Can I get you anything?”
“No,” Nick said. “Thank you.”
“Come into the living room,” she said, leading the way.
The house was elegant but comfortable, not a show place but a home—a place where Nick had always been made to feel right at home.
“Something’s wrong,” Carrie whispered.
Nick reached for her hand and held it between both of his. He sat that way, with Carrie on one side of him and Sam on the other, until they heard the others come in through the kitchen.
Hand-in-hand, John’s parents, Graham and Laine O’Connor, entered the room with their son Terry and daughter Lizbeth trailing behind them. Graham and Laine, both nearly eighty, were as fit and trim as people half their age. They had snow-white hair and year-round tans from spending most of their time riding horses. When they saw Nick, they lit up with delight.
He released Carrie’s