“He felt responsible for her after Steven was killed right in front of him. That put a lot of pressure on his marriage with Mom.” That was another thing Sam had learned during the investigation, that the breakup of her parents’ marriage had been as much on her dad as it had been on the mother Sam had unfairly blamed.

Life was so fucking complicated.

“We’ve got to get to work,” Sam said. “I’ll see you next weekend, if not before?”

“We’ll be there. Mike is so excited to go to Camp David.”

“Hopefully, the weather will cooperate this time.”

“He’s already checking the forecast and reporting to me daily that it’s all clear.”

Sam laughed. “That’s funny. Have a good day, and keep me posted on what you hear from Brooke.”

“I will, and thanks for sharing the intel.”

“There was no way I could sit on that one.”

After they waved off Tracy, Freddie said, “Mind if I catch a ride with you?”

“Not at all.” She glanced at her partner. “Thanks again for being there this morning. Means a lot to me.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Sam got into the back seat of the SUV, realizing she’d done that without pain or difficulty of any kind, which was an improvement.

“What was that about intel?”

“I found out Brooke is seeing Nate, the Secret Service agent.”

“Wow, really? How’d you hear about that?”

Sam filled him in on the details.

“I like him for her,” Freddie said. “He seems like a good guy.”

“I agree. Tracy and I are trying to stay cool about it so we don’t spook her into keeping the details from us.”

Freddie laughed. “And how’s that going?”

“We got this.”

Vernon and Jimmy delivered them to Columbia Heights, where Gonzo was parked outside the garage where Shane worked.

Freddie got into the back of the Charger while Sam took the front seat, noting only a small twinge from her hip as she lowered herself into the low-slung seat.

“Another day in paradise,” Gonzo said, looking through the binoculars.

“What’s the good word?” Sam asked.

“Our boy has taken up smoking,” Gonzo said.

“Has he now?”

“Yep. Here he comes, right on schedule at the top of every hour.”

They watched, rapt, as Shane came out of the garage and lit up, his eyes darting around nervously, no doubt trying to find the cops who’d been watching him relentlessly for days now.

Sam used the binoculars for a closer look. “All we need is one cigarette butt to make this entire case.”

“He’s been careful not to leave any behind.”

“How long can we keep up the twenty-four-hour surveillance?” Freddie asked.

“As long as it takes.”