He gave her a heated look and another kiss before he gave the window a couple of knocks.
Brant opened the door and waited for both of them to get out of the car.
Vernon stood by with the back door to her SUV open and waiting for her.
While the press gaggle waiting to board Air Force One photographed every second, Sam hugged Nick. “Be safe.”
He kissed her forehead. “You, too, love.”
And then he walked with Brant and the rest of his detail toward the stairs to the plane.
“Sam?”
She glanced at Vernon, who tipped his head toward the car. “It’ll be loud when they fire up the engines.”
Sighing, she walked toward him and got into the SUV. “Can we watch them take off?”
“Sure, if you want to.”
“I want to.”
Fifteen minutes later, from the spot at the end of the runway that Vernon had found to give her the best view, Sam watched as Air Force One lifted off, taking her whole heart into the endless blue sky. She felt ridiculous wiping away a tear that suddenly appeared as the plane quickly disappeared from view.
“Thank you,” she said to Vernon.
“No problem at all.”
Of course it was. He and Q were no doubt eager to get home to their own families after a long day on the job.
“Where to?” Vernon asked as they left Joint Base Andrews.
“Home, please.”
As she watched the world go by through the window, she could describe her mood only as bereft, which was insane but true. She was bereft without him and would be until he returned. No one had ever told her that finding her true love would mean that being separated from him, for even the shortest amount of time, would be agonizing.
To distract herself from her internal histrionics—a word that made her giggle when using it to describe herself—she checked her messages.
From Lindsey. Call me. Stat.
Sam placed the call.
“Hey, are they off?” Lindsey asked.
“Yeah, just watched them take off.”
“Four whole days.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one weeping and moaning over that.”
“You’re definitely not the only one.”
“Strangely, that makes me feel better about acting like a teenager in the throes of first love.”
“Right there with you, friend. I’ve got a development on the Bingham case. Because Louis Bingham’s fingerprints were burned, we took palm prints, and one of them was a direct match for the palm print found on King’s neck during the autopsy. Since King was strangled, Dr. Morganthau screened for larger prints, so we hoped we might get lucky.”
“Hot damn. There’s the slam dunk that McDermott wanted.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
