“I know, believe me. I know.”
“Tell Tracy… Tell her I love her, and I’ll be over in the morning.”
“I will. Talk to you then.”
“Call me if anything happens overnight.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Sam closed her phone and conveyed Angela’s message.
“How’d she find out?”
“A friend saw the BOLO on the news.”
“Everyone will know. No matter what happens now, everyone knows he was missing, and that’ll stick to him—and us—forever, even if it turns out to be nothing.”
She wanted to tell Tracy not to worry about that, but how could she? It was true. Something like this didn’t just go away when the incident was resolved. All they could do right now was pray that Ethan would come home soon—with an explanation for his absence that would make sense.
With every hour that passed with no news and no word from him, Sam became less optimistic about that outcome.
Chapter Eight
A small group of reporters was gathered in the press room when Nick walked in at twenty minutes after one that Sunday morning to read the statement he’d crafted.
Everyone sat up straighter when he entered. It still amused him all these months later how people snapped to attention in his presence, as if he didn’t put his pants on one leg at a time like everyone else.
“Around eight o’clock last evening, the first lady and I were informed that our eleven-year-old nephew, Ethan Hogan, was missing. The first lady received a call from her sister Tracy Hogan, who told her that Ethan wasn’t answering his phone and that the location services had been turned off. Needless to say, in the hours since, we’ve been doing everything in our power to find Ethan and bring him home safely. Sam is consulting with her colleagues at the Metropolitan Police Department, which issued a be-on-the-lookout alert several hours ago. The BOLO included a recent photo of Ethan as well as photos of Tomas Cambra and Luna Ahern, who are also missing. We’d appreciate your help in distributing the information. I’ll take a few questions.”
“Has your nephew been in any trouble?”
“Not that we’re aware of.”
“Where was he supposed to be?”
“He left with Tomas to get pizza and play video games at the arcade at the Wharf. The MPD has released information about Tomas as well.”
“Is there any connection between Luna, your nephew and his friend?”
“That’d be a question for the MPD.”
“How is the first lady doing?”
“As you can imagine, she’s consumed with worry for her nephew and his friend and hoping to get them home safely. The MPD will have more information for you in the morning. Thank you for your help in spreading the word.”
He stepped away from the podium, ignoring unrelated questions they tossed at him as he left the room. As if he’d bother to answer random questions about Congress or pending trade agreements when his nephew was missing.
Brant walked with him from the West Wing to the residence. “Is there anything I can do for you tonight, sir?”
Nick realized the young man was asking as a friend and not as an agent. “No, thank you, Brant. Not sure what we can do that’s not being done already. Sam said the FBI is coming in tomorrow, which is a relief. We’ll take all the help we can get.”
“Please give Mrs. Cappuano my regards and tell her I’m thinking of her and the family.”
“I will. Thanks, Brant.”
“Assume you’re in for the night now?”
