“I’m not the vice president right now. I’m a horny husband with an uncooperative wife.”

“Whatever! I’m the most cooperative wife in the history of the world.”

“Most of the time...”

Before she could respond to that, her phone rang. She checked the caller ID, saw Avery’s name and took the call.

“I’m at Hamilton’s house. He’s been murdered.”

At first, his words didn’t compute. And then they registered, taking her breath away in a whoosh. “How?”

“Someone took a golf club to him. His face is unrecognizable.”

“Who else knows?”

“Only you so far. It’s your jurisdiction, and even though it goes against everything I believe in as a federal agent to hand this off to someone else, it’d be a conflict for us to be involved. I want this done right, Sam.”

“I understand. Stay put. I’m on my way.”

“Are you allowed? Aren’t you still suspended?”

“I’ll clear it with Malone. We’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

“Are you all right, Avery?”

“Yeah, I’m great,” he said grimly before he ended the call.

“What does he want?” Nick asked.

“He found Director Hamilton murdered in his home.”

Nick’s mouth opened and then closed as his eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately.” Sam eyed the closed kitchen door, thinking of Josh on the other side of it and how she should handle this with him. Tell him or wait until they knew more? What more did they need to know? His father was dead.

“What if it was him?” Nick asked, using his thumb to point to the other room.

Recalling Josh’s disheveled appearance when he arrived earlier, Sam’s stomach twisted with anxiety. “There was no sign of blood on him. I would’ve noticed that. And murder by golf club would be messy.”

“Still, you can’t say for sure it wasn’t him. He certainly had motive.”

With her brain whirling with details and implications, Sam blew out a deep breath and placed a call to Captain Malone.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

“Troy Hamilton is dead. Avery found him bludgeoned with a golf club in his house.”

“Fucking hell.” After a short pause, Malone said, “Call in your troops and meet me there.” The phone went dead before Sam could say, “Yes, sir,” and before she could ask him what she should do about Hamilton’s son, who was currently playing video games with her son.

“He wants me there,” Sam told Nick, who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed and brows knitted in concern.

“And what am I to do with the son who may or may not have wanted his father dead?”

“I don’t know, Nick!”

“He doesn’t need to stay here anymore since the so-called threat has been neutralized.”

“We don’t know that. Whoever killed Troy might be gunning for Josh next.”

“Sam, come on. I want him out of here.”