“While you’re at it, do a run on a Bruce Jones. About forty, stocky, dark hair and eyes. He says he’s the manager of the motel.”

“Got it.”

“We’re going to notify Lind’s wife, and then we’ll be back to HQ with the girls.”

“What’s your plan there?”

“Not sure yet, but one of them looks really familiar. I had a feeling I needed to get them out of there.”

“Your feelings are usually worth paying attention to. See you when you get back.”

When Sam ended the call, Freddie let out a deep sigh. “Another wife to inform. I hate this case.”

“Me too.” Sam got into the car and turned to her passengers. After asking them to trust her, she didn’t feel right about sending them to HQ with someone else. “We have an errand to do in Bethesda, and then we’ll go to my office to talk, okay?”

Ginger nodded, her mouth set in a grim expression that belied her youth.

Taking her cues from Ginger, Amber followed suit.

“Just relax,” Sam added. “You’re not in any trouble. I promise.” She had a million questions to ask them, but wanted to be careful with two obviously fragile young women, who might even still qualify as girls.

In deference to their passengers, Sam and Freddie were quiet on the ride to Bethesda.

“Who was the guy in the motel room?” Ginger asked, breaking the silence.

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror. “Had you seen him before?”

Ginger lowered her eyes as her face flushed with color. “Once.”

Returning her attention to the road, she bit back the flood of questions she wanted to ask.

“Who was he?”

“Rick Lind, a relief pitcher with the D.C. Feds.”

“Oh.”

Sam looked in the mirror again and noted the sorrow etched into the young face staring back at her. She pressed harder on the gas pedal, wanting to get to Bethesda and back to HQ as soon as possible.

* * *

The drone of engines was the only sound in the guest section of Air Force One as it hurtled toward Bagram Air Force Base in Afghanistan. President Nelson and his entourage would meet with U.S. troops stationed in the war zone as well as the Afghani president. Nelson was locked in a dogfight with his Republican challenger, and the trip had been initiated to feature him as commander in chief in the waning days of the campaign.

Nick had never been on such a long flight, but the accommodations were so comfortable it was easy to forget he was on an airplane. He’d been given VIP treatment that included a tour of the president’s quarters in the front of the plane, an amazing gourmet meal and an extra box of the souvenir M&M’s signed by the president to give Scotty.