Wrapping her coat and his arms around her, he hugged her from behind and pressed kisses to her neck and cheek before he finally let go.

The spontaneous demonstration of affection caught her off guard. Unless it was leading to sex, Peter had never bothered with the random acts of affection that Nick doled out so effortlessly. Nick seemed to need to touch her if she was near him. That she liked it so much was just another reason to keep her distance.

The O’Connors’s home was located two miles up the main road from John’s cabin. Once again, Carrie met them at the door and was surprised to see them out so early.

“Are they up?” Nick asked.

“They’re having breakfast. Come on in.” She led them into the cozy country kitchen where Graham and Laine sat at the table lost in their own thoughts. Neither of them seemed to be eating much of anything.

Both had dark circles under their eyes. Weariness and grief clung to them.

“Nick?” Graham said. “You’re out early. Sergeant.”

Carrie handed mugs of coffee to Sam and Nick.

“Thank you,” Nick said.

“I’m sorry to barge in on you so early.” Sam stirred cream into her coffee and wished it was a diet cola. “But I have something I need to ask you.”

“Of course,” Laine said. “Whatever we can do to help.”

Sam retrieved the photo from her bag. “Who is this?” She placed the photo on the table between them.

They looked at the photo and then at each other.

“Where’d you get this?” Graham asked.

“At the cabin,” Nick said. “The photo was tucked into the essay book you had made for him.”

“It’s John’s cousin, Thomas,” Laine said, glancing up at Sam with cool patrician eyes. “His father is Graham’s brother Robert.”

“I don’t remember John mentioning a cousin that young,” Nick said.

Laine shrugged. “There were almost twenty years between them. They were hardly close.”

“He looks an awful lot like your son,” Sam said, testing for reactions.

“Yes, he does,” Graham said, his expression neutral. “Is there anything else?”

“Do you know where I can find Terry?” Sam said.

The question seemed to startle both O’Connors.

“I believe he’s working in the city this morning,” Graham said.

“The address?”

He rattled off the name and K Street address of a prominent lobbying firm, which Sam wrote down in the small notebook she pulled from her back pocket. “If you have no objection, I’d like to send a team into the cabin today to make sure we’re not missing something that could help with the case.”

“Strange people in John’s home?” Laine asked, visibly disturbed by the notion.

“Police,” Sam clarified. “They’ll be as respectful as possible.”

“That’s fine,” Graham said with a pointed look at his wife. “If it’ll help the investigation, do it.”