Before she dug into work, she took a moment to fire off an email to the president of the Fraternal Order of Police union about the bills her father had been hit with after his surgery. He responded right away, pledging to look into what they could do, and Sam thanked him. She hoped they could do something to help with the bills.

With that taken care of, she focused on the autopsy report for Troy Hamilton, which confirmed the blow that caved in his skull had ended his life. Approximately twenty other hits had been redundant and were indicative of the murderer’s rage. Fingerprints found on the golf club belonged to Hamilton, the man who served as his caddy and Jacoby, who often played with Hamilton. Avery had noted in the file that Jacoby’s prints on the club didn’t mean he was the murderer. Records at their exclusive club put Jacoby on the golf course with Hamilton at least fifteen times in the last year alone.

He could’ve held the club for Hamilton while he tied his shoes, for example, Hill had written in the notes.

“Still in denial, are you, Avery?” she muttered.

“Not so much anymore,” Hill said from the doorway, startling her.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Nice to see you back where you belong.”

“Nice to be here.”

“Hell of a scrum outside.”

Sam shrugged off the comment. “That’s what you get when the USA considers charges against the VP’s wife.”

“What’s up with that anyway?”

She told him about the grand jury decision and watched his eyes widen with realization of what the USA hoped to achieve.

Nodding, Avery said, “The grand jury gets him off the hook, and he’s hoping they won’t indict.”

“Something like that. I wish he’d said I’m not going to file charges and that would be the end of it, but I realize he has to pacify Ramsey and everyone else around here who thinks I get special treatment.”

“It’s a wise move on his part.” He took a closer look at her, and Sam had to fight the urge to squirm.

“What?”

“You look better. You feel okay?”

“Still tired and a bit achy, but much better than I was.” Embarrassment heated her face. “Thanks again for the assist. You went way above and beyond.”

“It was no problem.”

Sam stood, eager to get away from him and his golden-eyed gaze and the ever-present weird vibe he put out. “I need to update my murder board and get ready for the morning briefing.”

“I’ll give you a hand.”

“Great,” she said with far more enthusiasm than she felt. “What’s the word coming from the Bureau?”