“Excuse me,” Graham mumbled as he turned and rushed from the room.

“Go with him, Terry,” Laine said. “Please go with him.”

Terry followed his father.

Lizbeth sat down on the arm of the sofa next to her mother. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “What will I tell the kids?”

Painfully aware of how close John was to his niece and nephew, Nick looked up at her with sympathy.

“That he had an accident,” Laine said, wiping her face. “Not that he was killed. You can’t tell them that.”

“No,” Lizbeth agreed. “I can’t.”

Laine raised her head off Nick’s shoulder. “Where is he now?” she asked Sam.

“With the medical examiner.”

“I want to see him.” Laine wiped furiously at the tears that continued to spill down her unlined cheeks. “I want to see my child.”

“I’ll arrange it tomorrow,” Sam said.

Laine turned to Nick. “There’ll be a funeral befitting a United States senator.”

“Of course.”

“You’ll see to it personally.”

“Anything you want or need, Laine. You only have to ask.”

She clasped his hand and looked at him with shattered eyes. “Who would do this, Nick? Who would do this to our John?”

“I’ve been asking myself that question for hours and can’t think of anyone.”

“Whoever it is, Mrs. O’Connor, we’ll find them,” Sam assured her.

“See that you do.” As if she couldn’t bear to sit there another second, Laine got up and made for the door with Lizbeth and Carrie following her. At the doorway, Laine turned back to Nick. “You know you’re welcome to stay. You’re a part of this family, and you belong here. You always will.”

Touched, Nick said, “Thank you, but I’m going to head back to the city. I need to spend some time with the staff.”

“Please tell them how much we appreciate their hard work for John.”

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Mrs. O’Connor,” Sam said, rising to face Laine. “I’m so sorry to have to do this now, but in this kind of investigation, the first twenty-four hours are critical…”

“We’ll do whatever we can do to find the person who did this to John,” Laine said, her tear-stained face sagging with grief.

“I need to know the whereabouts of you and the other members of your family between the hours of ten p.m. last night and nine o’clock this morning.”

“You aren’t serious,” Laine said stiffly.

“If I’m going to rule out any family involvement—”

“Fine,” Laine snapped. “The senator and I entertained friends until about eleven.” She glanced at Carrie, who nodded in agreement.

“I’ll need the name and number of your friends.” She handed Laine her card. “You can leave the information on my voicemail. And after eleven?”

“We went to bed.”

“You, too, ma’am?” Sam asked Carrie.