“Who was his next of kin?” Sam asked Avery.

“His wife, I suppose.”

Sam withdrew the notebook she carried with her from her back pocket. “What’s her name?”

“Courtney. He also has three children—Josh, Mark and Maura. Only Josh is local. Mark lives in Chicago, and Maura is in Boston.”

“Where might we find Courtney?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea.” He met her gaze. “You could ask Josh.”

“I suppose we’ll have to.”

“Is Josh a suspect?” Freddie asked.

“Doc, can you tell how long he’s been dead?” Sam asked Lindsey.

“I’m guessing until I get him back to the lab, but upon visual inspection, I’d say it’s been a couple hours.”

To Freddie, Sam said, “I don’t know if he’s a suspect, but he was off the grid for a period of hours, during which time his father was murdered. I’d say we need to have a conversation with him about exactly where he went after he left the hotel.”

“He was scared shitless that his father was going to kill him,” Freddie said. “I find it hard to believe he would’ve come anywhere near here.”

“Or maybe he wanted us to think he was scared shitless so we wouldn’t look at him for this,” Sam said.

“I suppose that’s possible,” Freddie conceded.

“All I know,” Sam said, “is we can’t rule him out for this, and right now he’s with my husband and son. I’m going home.”

“I’m going with you,” Avery said.

“Let’s make it a party,” Farnsworth added.

“Cruz, wait for Crime Scene and then you can join us at the lieutenant’s home,” Malone said.

“Yes, sir.”

“The rest of you start a canvass,” Sam said. “See if the neighbors report anything suspicious, but don’t give them any details about what happened to Hamilton. Very tight lid.”

Murmurs of “yes, ma’am” preceded their departure.

“Did you reach Gonzo?” Sam asked Freddie.

“Right to voicemail.”

She had to hunt down her sergeant tomorrow and figure out what to do for him before his grief fucked up his once-promising career.

Sam took a final look around the director’s study, noting the desktop devoid of clutter the way Nick’s was, the framed photos on the wall of the director with presidents, world leaders and other luminaries, the awards, the certificates, the accolades. The room was a shrine to his career, but nowhere among the pomp or pageantry did she see a photo of his wife or children.

Interesting. The first thing anyone would notice on her husband’s desk was the gorgeous, intimate photo from their wedding and a second one of them with their son. There would be no doubt of where his priorities lay.