Sam filled her in.

“Wow. He never learns, does he?”

“Nope.”

“From everything I’ve read about the incident at Rock Creek Park, that shot was completely justified.”

“It was.”

“How’s Captain Malone holding up?”

“As well as can be expected, from what I hear. No one comes to work thinking they’ll have to give an order to kill a colleague’s son. He’s upset to have been put in that position, but he did the right thing.”

“I feel bad for him.”

“I do, too, but he’s tough. He’ll be okay.”

“There’s no chance they’ll find him at fault, is there?”

“None. Shane Ramsey admitted his guilt and was certainly going to kill the hostage.”

“Sometimes this job sucks,” Officer Charles said.

Sam liked this young woman. “Most of the time, it sucks.” Outside, Sam walked over to the Secret Service SUV. “Vernon, this is Officer Charles.”

They shook hands.

“We’d like to go to Brentwood, please.”

“I have the address,” Officer Charles added.

They got into the vehicle and headed toward the address she provided.

“I don’t know your first name,” Sam said when they were on the way.

“It’s Neveah.”

“How do you spell that?”

She spelled it for Sam.

“That’s pretty. Is it a family name?”

“My paternal grandmother’s mother was Neveah.”

“That’s cool, Neveah.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Let me tell you how this works. I call you by your first name and then you call me by mine.”

“Ma’am.”

“That’s not gonna fly with her,” Vernon said.

“What he said,” Sam said, pointing to him. “I’m Sam. S-a-m.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can. Let’s say it together. Ready? Sam.”

Officer Charles cringed as she said it with Sam.

“See? Was that so hard?”

“It was, ma’am.”

Sam rolled her eyes as Vernon and Jimmy laughed. “It’s very important to me in this circus I find myself in to keep things real.”

“By circus, do you mean being the nation’s first lady while leading the MPD’s Homicide division?”

“Yeah, that. Everyone is ma’am-ing the crap out of me, and it drives me crazy. I’m Sam.”

“It’s called respect, Sam,” Officer Charles said. “And we respect you and the positions you hold.”

“And I appreciate that, but in the fishbowl in which I live and work, I need the people closest to me to keep things real.”

“I’ll do my best, ma—”

Sam glared at her.

“Sam.”

“Did you apply for the opening in my squad like I asked you to?”

“I did.”

“If you want the job, you’re hired.”

“What? Come on… Just like that?”

“Just like that. I like your style. You wowed me with your mad organizational skills when you planned my father’s funeral, and I want you on my team. If you’d like to join us, that is.”

The young officer’s eyes filled, and her lashes fluttered.

“Detectives do not cry,” Sam said sternly.

“This one might.”

“Nope. There’re no tears in Homicide.”

She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’d be honored to work for you in Homicide.”