Reaching for his belt, he grabbed his BlackBerry, his emotions still raw after watching John be taken from his apartment in a body bag. Before he shut the BlackBerry off, he called Christina.

“Hey,” she said, her voice heavy with relief and emotion. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Sorry.” Pulling his tie loose and releasing his top button, he cast a sideways glance at Sam, whose warm, feminine fragrance had overtaken the small space inside the car. “I was dealing with cops.”

“Where are you now?”

“On my way to Leesburg.”

“God,” Christina sighed. “I don’t envy you that. Are you okay?”

“Never better.”

“I’m sorry. Dumb question.”

“It’s okay. Who knows what we’re supposed to say or do in this situation. Did you postpone the vote?”

“Yes, but Martin and McDougal are having an apoplexy,” she said, meaning John’s co-sponsor on the bill and the Democratic majority leader. “They’re demanding to know what’s going on.”

“Hold them off. Another hour. Maybe two. Same thing with the staff. I’ll give you the green light as soon as I’ve told his parents.”

“I will. Everyone knows something’s up because the Capitol Police posted an officer outside John’s office and won’t let anyone in there.”

“It’s because the cops are waiting for a search warrant,” Nick told her.

“Why do they need a warrant to search the victim’s office?”

“Something about chain of custody with evidence and pacifying the Capitol Police.”

“Oh, I see. I was thinking we should have Trevor draft a statement so we’re ready.”

“That’s why I called.”

“We’ll get on it.” She sounded relieved to have something to do.

“Are you okay with telling Trevor? Want me to do it?”

“I think I can do it, but thanks for asking.”

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“I’m in total shock… all that promise and potential just gone…” She began to weep again. “It’s going to hurt like hell when the shock wears off.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “No doubt.”

“I’m here if you need anything.”

“Me, too, but I’m going to shut the phone off for a while. It’s been ringing nonstop.”

“I’ll email the statement to you when we have it done.”

“Thanks, Christina. I’ll call you later.” Nick ended the call and took a look at his recent e-mail messages, hardly surprised by the outpouring of dismay and concern over the postponement of the vote. One was from Senator Martin himself—“What the fuck is going on, Cappuano?”

Sighing, he turned off the BlackBerry and dropped it into his coat pocket.

“Was that your girlfriend?” Sam asked, startling him.

“No, my deputy.”

“Oh.”

Wondering what she was getting at, he added, “We work closely together. We’re good friends.”

“Why are you being so defensive?”

“What’s your problem?” he asked.