“You’re aware that you can’t ‘catch’ homosexuality, aren’t you?”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“Actually,” Freddie said, “there’s quite a lot of science to support that sexual orientation is something we’re born with.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Mrs. Sinclair, if one of your sons happened to be gay—”

“Don’t be outrageous, Lieutenant! My sons are normal, well-adjusted young men.”

Oh how Sam wished she could pop this woman’s sanctimonious bubble. But since she had promised discretion to Devon, she bit her tongue. “Let’s just speculate for the sake of argument that one of them is gay, would you exile him from your family and your life?”

“There’s no point in speculating on something that could never happen.”

“Humor me.”

“I love my sons,” Diandra said, her hand trembling ever so slightly.

“Unconditionally?”

“Yes,” she stammered. “Of course.”

“So if Devon or Austin came home one day and said, ‘I love you, Mom but I’m gay,’ you’d be okay with that?”

“I’d be very disappointed—and shocked after the number of girlfriends my boys have had.”

Devon has done a hell of a job hiding who he is, Sam thought. “What would it have meant to your book deal if Julian’s orientation became public during the nomination hearings?”

Flustered, Diandra said, “It would’ve had no bearing.”

“Embarrassing?”

“Somewhat. Who wants their family members’ sexual predilections discussed publicly?”

“Were you under any pressure to avoid scandal in these final weeks before your book is published?”

“Do I need a lawyer, Lieutenant?”

“As I advised you at the outset, you can request an attorney at any time. However, you’re not currently under arrest. We’ve asked you to cooperate with our investigation.”

Diandra took a long sip from the glass of water Sam had provided at the beginning of their interview. “It’s understood that I am to stay above any scandal.”

A knock on the door interrupted them.

Sam nodded at Freddie to get it.

He came back in a minute later and gestured for her to join him and Captain Malone in the hallway. “Devon Sinclair and his roommate were just found shot in their home by a pizza delivery guy.”

“Oh shit.” Sam glanced over her shoulder at Diandra in the interrogation room. “DOA?”

“Both were shot,” Malone said. “One was DOA. We don’t know yet which one.”

“At least we can confirm she didn’t do this one,” Sam said.

“Right,” Freddie said. “That was my first thought, too.”

Steeling herself, she returned to the interrogation room. “Mrs. Sinclair, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but there’s been a shooting at your son Devon’s home.”

Gasping, Diandra stood up. “Dev.”

“We only know there were two victims, one of them a fatality,” Sam said.

Diandra sagged into the chair. “Oh, God, please. Not my Devon. Not my baby.”