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Chapters (46)
  1. Cover
  2. Letter to Reader
  3. Fatal Affair
  4. Dedication
  5. Contents
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. Chapter 30
  36. Chapter 31
  37. Chapter 32
  38. Chapter 33
  39. Chapter 34
  40. Chapter 35
  41. Chapter 36
  42. Chapter 37
  43. Epilogue
  44. Acknowledgments
  45. About the Author
  46. Copyright

She rested a hand on Freddie’s arm and looked up at him. “Utmost sensitivity,” she whispered.

“Absolutely, boss. Don’t worry.”

To Nick, she said, “I’ll catch up to you.”

He nodded and followed Freddie into the room where Graham and Laine O’Connor waited with their daughter and another man who Sam assumed was Royce Hamilton. With a brief glance, Sam noticed that both O’Connors had aged significantly overnight.

“Senator and Mrs. O’Connor, my partner, Detective Cruz, will take you to see your son. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Graham said.

With a deep breath to change gears and force her mind off the intense conversation she’d just had with Nick, Sam entered the room where two portly men sat waiting for her. She judged them both to be in their late sixties or early seventies.

Upon her entrance, they leapt to their feet.

“Gentlemen,” she said, reaching out to shake their hands. “Detective Sergeant Sam Holland. I appreciate you coming in.”

“We’re just devastated,” drawled Judson Knott, who had introduced himself as the chairman of the Virginia Democratic Party. “Senator O’Connor was a dear friend of ours and the people of the Commonwealth.”

“I’m not looking for a sound bite, Mr. Knott, just an idea of how the senator spent his last few hours.”

“We met him for dinner at the Old Ebbitt Grill,” said Richard Manning, the vice chairman.

“How often did you all have dinner together?”

The two men exchanged glances. “Every other month or so. We offered to reschedule that night because he had the vote the next day, but he said his staff had everything under control, and he had time for dinner.”

“How did he seem to you?”

“Tired,” Manning said without hesitation.

Knott nodded in agreement. “He said he’d been working twelve- and fourteen-hour days for the last two weeks.”

“What did you talk about over dinner?”

“The plans for the campaign,” Knott said. “He was up for re-election next year, and although he was a shoo-in, we take nothing for granted. We’ve been gearing up for the campaign for months, but now…” His blue eyes clouded as his voice trailed off. “It’s just such a tragedy.”

“What time did you part company after dinner?”

“I’d say around ten or so,” Knott said.

“And where was he headed from there?”

“He said he was going straight home to bed,” Knott said.

“Who will take his place in the Senate?”

“That’s up to the governor,” Manning said.

“No front-runners?”

Knott shook his head. “We haven’t even talked about it, to be honest. We’re all just in a total state of shock right now. Senator O’Connor was a lovely person. We can’t imagine how anyone would want to harm him.”

“No one in the party was jealous of his success or bucking for his job?”