“They do?” Freddie asked, genuinely surprised.

She nodded. “Universal code for a blow off.”

Clearly, he still had a lot to learn about such things. “Well, that’s not how I intended it. I will call you.” He pulled the covers up over her and kissed her once more. “Get some sleep.”

“You, too.”

Freddie moved through the dark apartment, collected his coat and locked the door behind him. Once outside, he took several long deep breaths of cold air before glancing up at her window. He’d wanted exactly what he’d gotten from Elin. So why was it that he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in way over his head with her?

Sam left Harry’s office and went straight to the trauma unit at George Washington University Hospital where she learned that Devon Sinclair was in surgery, and the outlook was grim. Of course it would’ve been too simple for him to be awake and alert and able to tell her who’d shot him and his lover. That kind of luck was apparently restricted to TV cops.

In the waiting room, Devon’s brother Austin tried to comfort his inconsolable mother while weeping bitterly himself. “How could this have happened?” Austin asked. “Who would shoot Dev? Or Tucker?” He looked up at Sam. “God, I can’t believe Tucker’s dead.”

Diandra’s shoulders shook with sobs.

“You have no idea who might want to harm either of them?” Sam asked Austin.

“No. No one. They both had tons of friends. Everyone liked them.”

“We can’t…” Diandra couldn’t seem to form the words she needed. “We can’t find Preston.”

Sam straightened, her spine tingling. “What do you mean?”

Diandra wiped her face with a tissue Austin handed her. “He’s not answering his cell, his colleagues haven’t seen him all day. I can’t imagine where he could be. He needs to know about his son.”

“I’ll see what I can do to locate him.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Austin said.

Sam handed him her card. “When your brother wakes up, will you please call me?”

He nodded.

“I’ll, um, hope for the best for Devon,” she said, hating the way she sounded. She never knew what to say in these situations.

“Thank you,” Austin said.

As Sam walked to the car, her sister Angela called. “Hey, Ang. What’s up?”

“Are you anywhere close to heading home?”

“Getting there.”

“Can you stop by on your way?”

“What’s going on?”

“I just want to see you and so does Jack,” Angela said, referring to her son.