The young woman shuddered. “That’s got to be awful.”

“It is, and it’s not for everyone. I’d understand if you give this some thought and decide to take a pass. There’d be no hard feelings.”

“I’m not taking a pass on the opportunity to work with you.”

“Don’t do that hero-worship thing with me. I’m a red-hot mess ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“Whatever you say.”

“No, really. It’s true. Ask anyone.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“It’s your funeral.”

“Is that a Homicide squad joke?”

“Nah, that’s my own original material, and I have a lot of that, which is fully trademarked and copyrighted.”

“Good to know.”

Sam glanced at her. “We joke around to cope with the fact that we have to go into the worst day in this family’s life and make it worse. You get that, right?”

“I do.”

“Didn’t want you to think I’m heartless.”

“I know the opposite is true.”

“Knock that crap off.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That crap, too.”

“Got it.”

The man who’d greeted them returned to the door. “Come in.”

They followed him into a tidy home with pictures of a happy family on the walls. The people gathered around the family’s tragedy stopped what they were doing to stare at Sam as they made their way to the kitchen. “This is Brad, Mary Alice’s husband.” He was seated at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Thank you for seeing us at this difficult time.” Sam eyed the disheveled young man with messy blond hair, scruff on his jaw and haunted eyes rimmed with red. To the others in the room, she said, “Could we please speak privately?”

“Brad?”

“It’s fine.”

What did he care? His wife was dead, and he was now a single father to young children. Talking to her was probably the least of his concerns.

After the others had filed out of the room, Sam and Neveah sat at the table. “I’m Lieutenant Holland, and this is Officer Charles.”

He looked at Sam. “I know who you are.”

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Sam said.

“Thank you.”

Sam put her notebook on the table and pulled out a pen. “Can you walk us through the events of this morning?”

He glanced at Neveah. “I already told your colleague everything that happened.”

“Could you please go through it one more time for me?”

He didn’t want to, and who could blame him? “I, um, got up early with the kids so Mary Alice could sleep in. They’re six and three and run her ragged. I try to give her a break on my days off.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a DC firefighter and paramedic.” He rubbed at the stubble on his face. “When she wasn’t up by ten, I went to check on her. It’s unusual for her to sleep past nine. The kids are loud even when I try to keep them quiet. When I saw her there, I knew something was wrong. She looked…”