“You’re frightening me, Nick,” Laine said, reaching up to brush the tears from his face. “Will one of you please tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s Julian,” Nick said softly.

Laine gasped and took a step back from him. With her hand over her heart, she stared at him. “No.”

“Is Senator O’Connor at home?” Sam asked.

“He’s in his study.”

“I’ll get him,” Nick said, wiping his face as he left the room.

“How?” Laine asked with the steely, patrician strength Sam had grown to admire in the weeks she had known her.

Sam told her what she knew.

“This’ll demolish Graham,” Laine whispered.

“I said the same thing about Nick.”

Their eyes met and held, two women united in their worries about the men they loved.

A ravaged howl came from a room off the living room.

Laine rushed off in the direction of the study.

Sam followed her. They found the two men sitting on the sofa, Nick’s arm around Graham’s shoulders.

Laine went to her husband.

“I just can’t believe this,” Graham said through his tears. He reached for his wife’s hand. “He was fine. We just saw him.”

Sam stepped into a room made cozy by the heat coming from the fireplace. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said.

Laine gestured her over to join them.

Sam took the seat next to Nick.

Graham turned his grief-stricken eyes on Sam. “Will you find out who did this? I need to know who could’ve done this.”

Grateful for the opening, she said, “I know this is a terrible shock, but you were among the last people to see him alive. Can you tell me about taking him back to the hotel?”

Graham wiped his face with the back of his hand. “He was staying at the Willard, so we said we’d drop him off.”

“What time was that?”

He glanced at his wife. “About eleven fifteen or so?”

She nodded.

“Did you watch him enter the hotel?”

Laine thought about that. “I can’t say that I did.”

“I didn’t, either,” Graham said.

“Were there any other people around?”

Laine paused for a moment. “I believe one of the hotel staff was working the door.”

“Yes,” Graham said. “I saw someone in a uniform.”

“How about other cars?” Nick asked.

“We were the only ones in front of the hotel,” Graham said. “I remember commenting to Laine that the middle of the night was the only time Washington isn’t gridlocked.”

“During your visit with him,” Sam said, now addressing the three of them, “did he talk about anything or anyone he was having a problem with? A friend, girlfriend, acquaintance?”

They exchanged glances.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Julian was gay,” Nick said.

Processing the information, Sam sagged into the leather chair. “Did people know?”