I open the fridge and see that Isabel has made a fresh round of sandwiches. Reubens. My favorite. I grab two and a strawberry protein shake and set them on the table where my dad is shuffling the cards. I grab a can of tuna, open it, and set it outside the door.

Just in case.

I dive into the sandwiches and flip up my laptop.

My dad deals the cards.

“Nothing in the news about the President being arrested, if that's what you're wondering,” he says.

I close the laptop and set it on the ground.

“How much do you know?”

“After you fell asleep, the lady detective told me most everything.” He smiles. “She's not bad looking.”

I laugh. “No, she is not.”

He's waiting for me to discard, but I also know he wants to hear my version of the story. I oblige him with a six of clubs and an animated narrative.

“And you took the cat?” he says with belly laugh. “You hate cats.”

“I couldn't leave him there. And he thinks he's a dog, so he's not too bad.”

I give my dad a hug at 3:58 and let Murdock lick my face goodbye.

I have my first peaceful sleep in a week.

…

It's 3:08 a.m. when I pick up the phone and dial Ray.

She answers, then says, “He says that he lost the phone two days earlier.”

“And you believe him?” I shout into the phone.

“There is an official report filed,” responds Ray. “I have a friend in the White House who faxed it to me.”

“Could it have been doctored?”

“I don't see why not. But proving it would be hell.”

“Well, did you at least get the President's fingerprints off the phone?”

“Nope, he must have wiped it. And we didn't find his fingerprints in the house.”

I blew out a long exhale.

“What about the car? Did you check the stoplight cams or ATM cams for the Ford Focus?”

“Yep. Nothing.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Us?”

“You. Where does that leave you?”

“Well, we can't do anything without rock solid evidence and the phone isn't enough. In fact, the Secret Service already came by and got it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“And they had a quick conversation with my captain, who then tore me a new asshole for using my back channel at the White House and warned me the only way we would ever go after the President is if there were a video of him strangling the girl and even then we probably wouldn't do shit.”

“What about Cal? He didn't back you?”

“No.”

I wait for her to expand on this. She doesn’t.

“So he just gets away with it?”

“The only thing tying him to the scene is you and the phone, but the phone is no longer in our possession.”

“There has to be a connection somewhere. You sure Callie Freig never worked at the White House?”