Ali Cross Page 12

  At lunch, when I came off the line with my tray, I saw Ruby, Cedric, and Mateo at our usual table. I wanted to just turn the other way and go eat with the Spanish Club in Mr. Egan’s room. But when Cedric spotted me, it felt too weird to not at least walk over.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” Cedric said, kind of quietly, like he was shy or something. Which isn’t Cedric at all.

  Ruby didn’t even look up. She just pushed some tater tots around her tray with her fork while I stood there feeling stupider by the second. Basically, I’d broken my promise to Gabe and made these guys mad at the same time. Talk about a lose-lose.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry about how it all went down,” I said.

  “Why would you keep something like that from us?” Mateo finally spoke up.

  “Because Gabe asked me to,” I said. “I don’t know why, but he did.”

  “You’re the one who pulled us into this thing,” Mateo said. “Remember?”

  “Come on, man, give him a break,” Cedric said, but without looking at me.

  “I didn’t even tell the police until I had to,” I said. “And then first chance I got, I told you guys, too. It’s not like—”

  “Not like what?” Ruby asked. Now she was looking at me and I almost wished she’d stop. “Not like you let us keep wondering if Gabe was even alive? Not like you stood there and watched me cry at that vigil? Oh, wait. That’s exactly what you did.”

  I couldn’t blame her for being mad. She’d done more to help find Gabe than anyone, except for me. I just didn’t know how to fix it.

  “Anyway,” I said. “I wanted you all to know that I’m going to keep looking, and I’ll give you a heads-up if I find anything new.…”

  I couldn’t even finish. I might as well have been talking to the floor.

  “And I guess that’s it,” I said. “So… I’ll see you guys later.”

  “See you,” Cedric said. “Don’t do anything stupid out there, man.”

  “Too late,” I said. It was supposed to be a joke, but nobody laughed. Instead, I just took my tray, dumped my lunch in the trash, and left the cafeteria.

  Then, because my day wasn’t already bad enough, who do I see in the hall but Kahlil Weyland. Of course.

  “Look who it is. Sherlock Homie,” he said, and laughed like he’d made the world’s greatest joke. Then he just stood there, blocking my way.

  “What do you want, Kahlil?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, like he meant it, which I knew he didn’t. “I was just wondering if what I heard was true.”

  I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking what he meant, but he kept going anyway.

  “I heard you’ve been doing a little breaking and entering on the side,” he said. “My dad told me they found your school ID at a—”

  “Yeah, well, your dad’s wrong,” I said, cutting him off. “And I guess he’s got just as big a mouth as you do.”

  I was over it. I didn’t care what Kahlil said, and I kind of didn’t care what he did, either.

  Just like that, he was in my face all over again. His chest was up and out, pushing into me, close enough that I could smell his nasty breath, too.

  “You really want to do this?” he asked.

  “Nah,” I said. “I really don’t.”

  “Yeah, without your little friends around to protect you, I can see why not.”

  “You can’t see anything,” I said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He didn’t even deserve an explanation. But now that I’d started, the rest of it just rolled out of me.

  “See, here’s what I figured out about me and you,” I said. “We’re kind of alike.”

  Kahlil laughed again and sprayed some more of that bad breath all over me. “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “No, we really are,” I said. “It’s like when either one of us gets onto something, we’re just a dog with a bone, and we don’t let go.”

  I think he was actually confused now. Like he didn’t know whether to laugh, walk away, or punch me.

  “What are you even talking about?” he asked, and pushed me hard. This dude liked to fight, for sure, but I meant what I’d said. So I stood my ground and kept talking instead.

  “See, the difference is, all you want to do is beef with me and make trouble. Which I don’t even get, by the way. Like seriously, why do you even care so much?”

  I think that one stumped him, but I wasn’t waiting for an answer.

  “As for me?” I said. “All I want to do is keep looking for Gabe. That’s all I’m thinking about. You already got me sidelined from it once. I’m not going to let that happen again, Kahlil. So unless you got something to say, I’m going to keep on rolling here.”

  I seriously expected him to hit me. So I was kind of surprised when he didn’t. And of course, I wasn’t going to give him time to change his mind, either, so I stepped around him and started moving up the hall.

  I knew it wasn’t the final word with me and Kahlil. In fact, that was kind of my point. Maybe he’d just keep coming for me as long as we were in the same school. It was like he couldn’t help it. The same way I can’t help being the way I am.

  Or maybe I’m all wrong about that. I guess the point is, I just didn’t care anymore. I could spend my time sweating over Kahlil, or I could focus on something that actually felt worth worrying about.

  Guess which one I chose?

  WHEN I LEFT school, I knew I was going to be letting myself into the house. Nana was in court with Dad that day, and Jannie had track practice. So I wasn’t in any big hurry to get there.

  First, I spent some time handing out more flyers in front of school. Not too many people were interested in talking to me, but I was used to that by now. I just kept walking up and down E Street, giving them to whoever would take them, and asking as many people as I could if they’d seen Gabe in the last three weeks. Of course, the answer to that one was no, no, and more no.

  After that, I took the bus to St. Anthony’s Church. The truth was, I was getting desperate. I’m not that kid who says his prayers every single night. But sometimes when you run out of ways to hope for something, praying is the only thing left. I figured I might as well give it a shot.

  Father Bernadin wasn’t around, but the sanctuary was open. The last time I’d been there was Christmas Eve, when I had the whole congregation putting in a prayer for Gabe. This time, I stuck to the back. There were people near the front with their heads down, and I didn’t want to bother them.

  I slid into one of the last pews, got down on the kneeler, and bowed my head.

  “Dear God,” I whispered, keeping this one just between the two of us. “Thank you for making sure Gabe Qualls is okay so far. Please keep watching over him, and if there’s anything you can do to help bring him home again, please do that, too.”

  I stopped and looked up for a second. Everything was so quiet in that church. It reminded me why people say God is always listening, and I hoped they were right.

  Then I put my head down again and kept going. “I’m not sure what you think about Mr. Qualls, God, but if there’s anything you can do to give him a better heart, or… I don’t know… just make sure he’s not a problem for Gabe, I’d really appreciate that, too.”

  I wasn’t even sure what I was praying for anymore. I didn’t want to ask for something bad to happen to Gabe’s dad. I just wanted things to be okay for Gabe. Hopefully, God knew where I was coming from, even if I wasn’t using the right words.

  “Anyway,” I whispered into my hands, “thank you for listening, and for everything you’ve done, and especially for anything you can do to help. I miss Gabe more and more every day…”

  I stopped again, because I got this weird sensation. It’s like when you can just feel someone’s eyes on you. And then when I looked up, sure enough—

  “Nana?”

  She was standing right there in her coat, holding her pu
rse like she was on her way out of the church. I guess she’d been one of the people at the front, and I hadn’t even noticed.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Praying for your father,” Nana Mama said. “But I might ask you the same question.”

  “Same thing,” I said, because I was embarrassed that I hadn’t thought about that. “And for Gabe, too.”

  “You know what?” Nana slid into the pew next to me. “Let’s say one for Mr. Yang, while we’re at it.”

  So I kept my head down, and let Nana take the lead on that one. Then I said amen with her at the end, and we got up to go. I’d kind of been hoping to do even more canvassing on my way home, but I put that idea on hold.

  “Where are Dad and Bree?” I asked once we got outside.

  “They both had to go back to work. We’ll see them at home later,” Nana told me. “How about we get some takeout from Lola’s for dinner? I’m too pooped to cook after that day in court.”

  Nana even called an Uber, which is about as rare as hen’s teeth, as she likes to say. She usually walks everywhere, and the truth is, she’s kind of cheap about that stuff. But I was tired, too, and I love the burgers from Lola’s. So yeah, no complaints from me.

  “How’d it go?” I asked once we were in the car, heading home. “At the trial, I mean.”

  Nana swiped at the air, like she was swatting away a mosquito. “That prosecutor is only interested in one thing: winning,” she said. “But the truth will rise to the top. I have no doubt about that. I say your father can’t lose.”

  I didn’t know if she was just trying to make me feel better, but I liked that she said that. I needed some kind of good news.

  “How are you feeling about Gabriel?” Nana Mama asked.

  I shrugged, because I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I just wish those detectives would move on Mr. Qualls already,” I said. “I don’t even know if they’re talking to him, or what.”

  “Oh, honey,” Nana said. “People in your dad’s line of work have to keep a lot of secrets. You must know that by now. It doesn’t mean they’re sitting on their behinds.”

  “Still, why is it taking so long?” I asked.

  Nana patted my hand while the Uber crawled through traffic. “Have a little faith, sweetheart,” she said. “Try to trust in the process.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said. “I’ll try.”

  And I really would. But it wasn’t going to be easy.

  AFTER A LONG day in court, Alex Cross found himself jumping right back into work. Unofficially, anyway. He’d exchanged a few texts with Detective Olayinka through the afternoon, and now found himself in the backseat of Olayinka’s blue Kia, headed south and east from the courthouse. Detective Sutter sat next to Olayinka in the front.

  Word was, the police lab had found a match for William Qualls’s fingerprints on Ali’s school ID card. That was more than enough to justify another visit to the Qualls’s house.

  “Thanks for waiting to the end of the day,” Alex told the detectives. “I appreciate your bringing me in on this.”

  “It’s just a ride-along,” Olayinka said, not for the first time. “You’re still on non-contact status, Alex, and I need you to stay by the car when we get there.”

  “Of course,” Alex said. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself with what he’d do, anyway. What kind of grown man tried to frame a kid Ali’s age? Probably the same kind who would use his own son as a pawn, and send him through a dog door to break into a house. That was the theory, anyway, though it didn’t explain where Gabe Qualls had been all this time.

  Everything was up in the air at this point, but Alex could feel it in his gut. They were getting closer to some answers here.

  “How’d the trial go today?” Sutter asked while they traveled.

  “No comment,” Alex said. “Honestly, I’m exhausted, but hearing from you was the first piece of good news I’ve had, so I’ll take it.”

  For the rest of the drive, they talked about the weather and the upcoming Super Bowl instead, until Olayinka was parking in front of a sad-looking row house on 17th Street. Alex got out of the car but kept himself on the sidewalk as the other two went to knock on the door. He wanted William Qualls to see him when he answered.

  It took several knocks before anything happened. Sutter seemed to hear some kind of disturbance inside. “Mr. Qualls?” she called through. “It’s Detective Sutter from MPD. Can you please open the door?”

  Then, sure enough, William Qualls was there, looking out of breath. Alex couldn’t hear the conversation, but Qualls’s eyebrows knitted together at whatever they were telling him.

  Yeah, that’s right, Alex thought. No more messing with kids’ lives. It’s time to answer to the grown-ups.

  After a few moments on the stoop, the detectives moved inside and the door closed behind them. Alex stuck to his spot, watching for maybe three or four minutes before anything else happened.

  When he caught some movement through the cracked first-floor window, Alex stood up a little straighter, squinting in that direction. Then without warning, the window itself shattered as a large ashtray came through the glass and broke into a million pieces of its own on the pavement outside.

  “What the…?”

  Alex was already moving up the front walk when the door flew open. Inside, he could see Sutter on one knee. Blood was dripping through her fingers, where she had a hand up to her forehead. Behind her, Olayinka seemed to be helping Mrs. Qualls off the ground. A shattered picture frame was next to her where she’d gone down.

  There was no time for questions, much less explanations. Even as Alex approached the house, Qualls burst out the door. He cleared the front steps in one leap, lowered his shoulder, and plowed right through Alex like J. J. Watt on a good day. Alex flew back and hit the pavement hard. By the time he’d scrambled onto his feet, Qualls was through the gate and sprinting up 17th Street at a good clip.

  “Stop him!” Olayinka shouted from inside.

  Alex took off running.

  QUALLS DIDN’T LOOK back, and he was no slouch on his feet, either. The guy could move. He had a good half block on Alex, but it was also true that Jannie Cross had inherited her long and fast legs from her dad.

  Alex kept his chin down but his eyes on Qualls as he flew across F Street without even checking for traffic. A white SUV blared its horn, and a taxi’s tires screeched on the pavement to avoid running Qualls down. He dodged a mother with a stroller, then a bale of newspapers on the sidewalk, and kept on sprinting.

  Alex did the same, matching him stride for stride.

  Massachusetts Avenue was the next cross street coming up, with a much busier intersection than the last one—hopefully enough to slow Qualls down. But Qualls may have been thinking the same thing. With less than twenty feet between them now, he suddenly cut to the right, off 17th and down a side alley. He snagged a household dumpster with one hand as he made the turn, and flung it in Alex’s way. The can tipped. Garbage scattered onto the pavement.

  Alex didn’t see it coming fast enough. His shin barked against the edge of the bin. He lurched forward and sprawled onto the ground, but even then, momentum was on his side. Alex rolled without stopping, and was back on his feet a second later, in time to see Qualls turning another corner.

  He’d gone down a second alley now, one that ran behind the houses on 17th. And this one was a dead end, Alex saw, as soon as he got there. It seemed like good news, until Qualls took a running leap onto someone’s tall wooden back fence.

  Boards cracked under the man’s weight. He tipped back, but compensated with a swing of his leg up and over the fence, then fell onto the other side. By the time Alex was up and over the same fence, Qualls was furiously trying to kick through the back door of someone’s house. It wasn’t giving way, though, and Qualls was clearly cornered.

  He seemed to know it, too. It showed in the fierce look that blazed in his eyes, a fraction of a second before he charged again, straight at
Alex.

  This time, Alex was ready. He feinted left as Qualls came, and threw an elbow into the other man’s side.

  “Get out of my yard!” someone screamed through a window. “I’m calling the police!”

  “Good!” Alex yelled back. “And tell them to hurry!”

  It wasn’t over yet. Qualls scrambled out of Alex’s grip, and tried to make another run for it. The only way out was over the fence, which was splintered and broken now, making for an awkward climb. There was no good place to grab on, and when Qualls tried, Alex was right there to pull him back. Qualls whirled around and threw a punch, but missed.

  It was his last mistake. As Qualls whiffed the punch, Alex saw another opening. He threw a left hook and connected with Qualls’s exposed temple. His fist exploded with pain as he made contact, but Qualls got the worst of it. His whole body pivoted with a jerk and he dropped to the ground.

  This time he didn’t get up. Alex’s handcuffs were off of his belt already, and he snapped the bracelets onto Qualls’s wrists behind his back.

  “William Qualls, you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…” Alex started to say, until he realized Qualls wasn’t hearing any of it. He was out cold. And even if he did wake up, he wasn’t going anywhere now.

  Not until the cruiser arrived to take him away, once and for all.

  DAD TEXTED BREE to say he was going to be late for dinner that night, but I didn’t find out why until he got home. And when I did…

  Talk about a bombshell.

  I was watching The Incredibles 2 with Nana (she likes to keep it clean) when I heard the back door open. I was off the couch in a blink and ran into the kitchen to hear about Dad’s day in court.

  What I didn’t expect—like in a million years—was to find Sutter and Olayinka standing there with him. Not only that, but the sleeve of Dad’s jacket was half ripped off, his shirt was all dirty, and his tie was just plain gone. He was holding a bag of ice against his bloody knuckles, too.