“Did he say that?” Nick asked.
“Sure did.”
“Don’t tell tales out of school, son,” Graham said with a scowl.
Terry laughed. “I speak the truth.”
“What if you didn’t have to move?” Nick asked. “We could make a case for keeping you at the farm. It would be easier to secure than Ninth Street was, it’s close enough for you to commute, and we could set you up to work some from home a lot of the time. You could use the Naval Observatory for official meetings and entertaining.”
“I can’t even consider this until I discuss it with Laine. I’ll do that when I get home. No matter what we decide, it’s the honor of my lifetime to be asked, Mr. President.”
“It’d be the honor of my lifetime if you said yes.”
Graham reached a hand out to Nick, who took hold of it. “Thank you, son.”
He’d been the first man to ever call Nick that and, along with his wife and children, had shown Nick what a family should be like. Under no circumstances known to mankind would he be sitting behind the Resolute Desk without Graham O’Connor’s support and direction. No matter what Graham decided, Nick would be forever grateful to the O’Connors.
“Teresa and her team are ready to brief in the Situation Room ahead of the call with Petrov,” Terry said.
“Let’s take care of some business,” Graham said as he got up to lead the way.
Nick glanced at Terry, who smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.
They both knew that if it was up to only Graham, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes to Nick’s offer. But by asking Graham to be VP, he was also asking Laine to be the second lady, and as such, discussions must be had.
He only hoped they’d come around to understanding how badly Nick needed both of them by his side at this crucial juncture.
* * *
At the Westmont apartment complex, Sam found the button for 3F that was labeled HENDERSON and pressed it, hoping Curtis Henderson would let them in so they wouldn’t have to figure out a plan B.
The intercom beeped. “Yes?”
She held her badge up to the camera. “Lieutenant Holland and Detective Cruz from the MPD. Could we please have a few minutes of your time?”
“For what?”
“Let us in, or we can do this back at our place. Your choice.”
While they waited, Sam glanced at Freddie and rolled her eyes. He knew how much she hated it when people wasted their time. She was giving this guy two more seconds before she went to find the super to let her into the building.
A buzz sounded, followed by a click that unlocked the door.
Once inside, they took the stairs to the third floor, where a man waited for them with one foot in the hallway. Wearing a dark gray T-shirt with black sweats, he had messy blondish-brown hair and gray eyes that looked at her with suspicion and maybe a touch of fear.
Sam showed her badge and went through the introductions again.
“Does anyone not know who you are?”
“How do I know? Never hurts to be polite.”
They followed him into a living room that contained only a sofa, a television mounted to the wall and a workstation in the corner. It was a far cry from Gretchen’s swanky crib, that was for sure.
“What can I do for you?” he asked as he rolled his desk chair toward the center of the room and gestured for them to take the sofa.
Sam noticed that his hands seemed to tremble as he tucked them between his knees.
“I assume you’ve heard that your ex-wife is no longer the vice president.”
