“Maybe we should pick him up and take him on our little ride, too.”

Sam hit the gas to get out of there before Reese could make good on his threat to drag Nick into whatever nightmare he had planned for her. “What do you want?”

“I want the money you took from my house.”

“I don’t have it. It’s been seized as evidence.”

“I want it. Until I get it, I’ll be keeping you.”

Her cell phone rang. “If I don’t answer that, they’ll know something’s up.”

“Don’t try to pull no shit.”

Sam held out her hand, and Reese gave her the phone. “Holland.”

“Lieutenant,” Captain Malone said. “Everyone’s here for the meeting you called. Where’re you?”

“Hi, honey,” she said, her heart pounding. She checked the rearview mirror to find Reese’s cold eyes monitoring her every move. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t get a chance to pick up the dry cleaning.”

“Holland, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t have any shirts?”

“Is something, wrong?” Malone asked, his voice suddenly tense.

“Yes, honey. I know I promised. I just left the house, otherwise I’d come back to find something for you to wear.”

“You’re still on Capitol Hill?”

“That’s right. You might have to break out the iron.”

“Is it Reese?”

“Uh-huh. You can do it.”

“Stay calm,” Malone said. “We’re coming.”

“I love you, too. Have a good day.”

“Barf,” Reese said from the backseat as he reached out to snatch the phone from her hand. “He’s already got you picking up his dry cleaning? I didn’t figure you for the domestic type. You disappoint me.”

Relieved that he had bought her side of the phone call, Sam looked at him in the mirror. “I take care of him. He takes care of me.”

“I’ll bet he does.” Reese reached forward to run his finger down the slope of her neck, left bare by her clipped-up hair. “I’ll bet he takes good care of you.”

Sam worked at not flinching.

“A woman like you needs a real man. Not one who treats you like his little wife.”

“Is that how you treated your wife?” she asked him in the mirror.

His eyes narrowed. “She was a nag. Nothing was ever enough for her. She always had to have more.”

“So she deserved to be killed?”

“She needed to shut up.”

“What about your kids? What did they do to deserve what they got?”

“None of your business! Just shut the fuck up and drive.”

Sam did as she was told while keeping a watchful eye out for back up. She took Massachusetts Avenue, a main artery that headed northeast. Another five minutes passed in tense silence before Sam became aware of an unmarked Metro Police car behind them.