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  Bree took her tired eyes off some paperwork and smiled over at me. “You must be pretty exhausted too. You’re a real good dad, Alex.”

  “Trying. I’m a guilty dad for sure.”

  “No,” Bree repeated. “You’re a good dad. Trust me on that. I had a bad one.”

  As it turned out, it was past three o’clock when I finally dragged myself home to Fifth Street. A shower and a little something from the kitchen, and I’d be ready to go again. Maybe just an hour or two of nap time.

  As I was getting out of the car, I saw Jannie’s long face. She was standing on the front porch, watching me come up the walk. Her features were still, and she didn’t move or speak when our eyes met.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I humped up the steps. “Something happened.”

  “Yeah, Dad, it sure did. Damon’s run away.”

  My head tilted back involuntarily. What? Maybe I was groggy and hadn’t heard Janelle right.

  “Run away? What are you talking about? Where is he?”

  “He left home five hours ago, and he hasn’t come back. Never told anybody where he was going. Nothing. Nana’s been going crazy.”

  This didn’t compute. Not with Damon. It just wasn’t something he’d ordinarily do.

  “Five hours? Jannie, what is going on? What am I missing here?”

  Jannie stared hard at me. “The basketball coach from Cushing was here today—to talk to you. You missed the meeting. The prep-school coach from Massachusetts?”

  “I know what Cushing is, Janelle,” I said.

  Just then, Nana came out to the porch. Little Ali trailed a half step behind his grandmother. “I’ve spoken with his friends and the parents that I can reach. No one’s seen him,” Nana said.

  I pulled out my phone. “I’ll call Sampson. We can—”

  Nana cut me off. “I spoke to John already. He’s out searching the neighborhood.”

  Just then, the phone in my hand buzzed. I hadn’t known that it had been ringing off the hook for hours. Sampson’s name came up on the caller ID.

  “John?” I said into the receiver.

  “Alex, I’ve got Damon.”

  Chapter 74

  “WHERE IS HE? Where are you?” I asked, paranoia blossoming inside my head. Kyle Craig had threatened my family. DCAK said he was watching us too.

  “We’re over at Sojourner Truth. Day wandered around town, then he came up here to shoot some hoops. We had a talk. He’s ready to come home now. We’ll be back there in a few minutes.”

  “No. I’ll come to you,” I said. I wasn’t sure why. I just felt it should be that way. I wanted to go to Damon, not the other way around.

  “Can I come, Daddy?” Ali looked up at me, his small hands outstretched, curious brown eyes always ready for the next little adventure in his life.

  “Not this time, pup. I’ll be back soon.”

  “You always say that.”

  “I do. And I always come back.” Eventually I do, anyway.

  I drove over to the school, the same one Damon and Jannie had gone to, and Ali would be attending before I knew it.

  Day and Sampson were playing one-on-one, pounding the school’s cracked pavement court. Damon still had on the khakis and nice blue dress shirt he’d probably worn for the meeting with the prep-school coach. A red-and-black necktie hung out of his back pocket. He scored easily on Sampson as I approached the court.

  I laced my fingers into the chain-link fence. “Pretty nice move,” I said. “Of course, you only had to beat an old man to get to the hoop.”

  Damon played it cool—cold, really—and didn’t even look my way.

  Sampson bent and leaned on his knees, sweat dripping off his face, and not just because it was eighty degrees out. Damon was good, getting better too. Bigger and better, and a whole lot quicker than he ever was before. It struck me that I hadn’t seen him play ball in a long time.

  “I’m up next,” I called to Sampson.

  He held up an index finger that clearly said, I’m out.

  “That’s okay. Game’s over,” Damon said. He came out through the gate near my car, and I caught his arm. I needed him to look at me, which he did. Daggers. Sharp ones that cut deep.

  “Damon, I’m sorry about what happened today. Couldn’t be helped.”

  “If you guys are all good, I’m going to take off,” Sampson said.

  He clapped Damon on the back as he went. The Big Man knows when to hang in and when to head out.

  “Let’s sit.” I motioned to the stone school steps. Damon reluctantly sat down with me. I could tell he was pissed, but maybe he was confused too. We almost never got this angry, let it get this bad. Damon was a good kid—a great kid, actually—and I was proud of him most of the time.

  “You want to start?” I asked.

  “Okay. Where the hell were you?”

  “Uh-uh,” I said. I knocked the ball out of his hand and stilled it against the step. “You don’t talk to me like that, no matter what, Day. We’re going to have a conversation, but it’s going to be respectful.”

  I put on a tough face; Day would never know how much what he’d said had hurt me. Probably, he’d needed to get even. I understood. But still.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, and made it sound half sincere.

  “Damon, I was literally all over the map with this case. Last night and this morning. I haven’t slept at all—and someone else died out there. That’s not for you to worry about, but it’s what happened. People are dying around Washington, and it’s my job to try to stop it. I’m sorry, but I guess that’s a problem for both of us to deal with.”

  “This was important to me. Just like your work’s important to you,” Damon said.

  “I know that. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to make this up to you. If we have to drive up for a meeting at Cushing, then that’s what we’ll do. Okay?”

  There was so much I wanted him to know, starting with the fact that nothing was more important to me than his happiness, despite how it might seem to him sometimes. But I put a lid on it. Kept things simple. Damon stared at the ground, palming the ball.

  Finally he looked up. “Okay. That’d be good.”

  We stood up together and walked back to the car. As he was getting in, I said the last thing I had to say. “Damon? About running off the way you did, not checking in despite our house rule, worrying your grandmother . . .”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

  “Well, me too. ’Cause you’re grounded.”

  “I know it,” said Damon, and he got into the car with me.

  Before we got back home, I said, “Forget about being grounded. Just tell your grandmother you’re sorry.”

  Chapter 75

  HERE WAS A CLUE that the cops really needed to have, a little bit of homespun reality that they would never find out about. And if they did, what the hell, he would already be dead, wouldn’t he?

  DCAK used a pay phone way out in Virginia to make the same call he made just about every Sunday. Now that he was a full-fledged, successful outlaw, there was no sense taking needless risks with his cell phone, especially not to this particular number, which some smart, or lucky, cop might eventually track down, though that was doubtful. Was there such a thing as a smart cop?

  He heard a familiar voice that only made him grit and grind his teeth. “It’s a great day at Meadow Grove. How may I direct your call?”

  “Room sixty-two, if you would, please.”

  “No problem.”

  The line clicked, then rang again. Just once, though, then it was picked up.

  “Hello. Who is this?”

  “Hey, Momma. Guess.”

  “Oh, my Lord, I can’t believe it’s you. Where are you calling from? Are you still out in California?”

  This was how the conversation began every single time he called. In a way, it made things easier, more comfortable for both of them, completely artificial.

  “That’s right. Actually, I’m standing on the corner
of Hollywood and Vine right now.”

  “I’ll bet it’s beautiful there. It’s beautiful, right? The weather, movie stars, Pacific Ocean, everything.”

  “It is. Paradise. I’m going to fly you out here one of these days real soon. How’re you doing other than that? You have everything you need?”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You know that colored girl who comes in to clean? I think she’s been taking my jewelry.”

  “Mm-hm.” Not likely. He had sold off the last of his mother’s jewelry a long time ago. That’s where the money came to get his acting career started, then to keep it going for a while.

  “But never mind about me. Tell me about you. Just everything. I love it when you call. Your brother and sister almost never do.”

  The accent seriously grated on his nerves, if only because he’d worked so hard to leave it behind. Unlike either of his parents, he had always intended to be something, to go beyond his humble beginnings. And now here he was at the top of the world, nobody quite like him, a unique creation.

  “Well, did I tell you I’ve got a big movie coming out soon? Everybody is going to see it. The studio sure seems to think so, anyway. Paramount Pictures.”

  He heard a quick intake of breath over the phone. “No such a thing!”

  “That’s right, Ma. It’s got me and Tom Hanks and Angelina Jolie—”

  “Oh, I just love her. What’s she like in real life? She nice or stuck-up?”

  “She’s actually real nice. Loves her kids, Momma. I showed her your picture and told her all about you too. In fact, she’s the one who said I should call.”

  “Oooh! Are you teasing me? That just makes me shiver. Angelina Jolie! And Tom Hanks too. I knew you were goin’ to make it. You’re so determined.”

  The phone call, the acting, was all too easy and was the least he could do; or maybe it was the most he could do. It wasn’t like he was ever going back to visit his mother. Not like Kyle Craig had done out in Colorado recently.

  “Wait’ll I tell your father about this. You know his birthday’s coming up, right?”

  Crazy really did run in this family, didn’t it? She could remember the man’s birthday but not the fact that he’d shot himself in the face twenty-some years ago. This conversation was starting to depress the oxygen right out of him. It was time to go.

  “Now listen, I have to be on the set soon, so I’m going to say good-bye for now.”

  “Okay, sweetheart, I understand. Nice to hear your voice. You keep knockin’ ’em dead out there, you hear?”

  He had to laugh at that one. “Yes’m. I’ll do just that. In your honor, Momma. I’ll give them hell.”

  Chapter 76

  THURSDAY AROUND NOON, I got a call from Bree, and it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear, not even in the ballpark. “Alex, don’t hate me for this, but there’s no way I can get away this weekend. I’m going to be working straight through. Sorry. Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

  We’d been hoping to make up for our aborted camping trip, but she was right, of course. The timing wasn’t any good. In fact, it probably couldn’t have been much worse, given the uproar over DCAK. Not to mention Kyle Craig being on the loose again and no recent word about where he might be.

  “How about I make it up to you over drinks tonight?” she said. “Say, nine o’clock at the Sheraton Suites over in Old Town. You know the place? You remember?”

  “I do, of course I do, and I’ll be there. Sheraton Suites. Nine o’clock.”

  Everyone was a little frustrated right now, but especially the two of us. We’d been working harder than ever on DCAK, and all we had to show for it were a lot of unanswered questions and some very grisly murders. How had he pulled off the scene in Baltimore—and the Smithsonian hit at the same time? Who was the mystery woman who had helped him in Baltimore? What were those numbers on the side of the mailbag supposed to mean?

  And what would happen if he tried to top himself again? That one hung over our heads like a weight about to drop—probably not if but when.

  The Sheraton Suites over in Alexandria would be a nice trip down memory lane for Bree and me. It was where the two of us had had one very special evening. The Sheraton was right in the middle of the historic Old Town area and a short walk to the Potomac waterfront. It was a good place to end today, and I couldn’t wait to see Bree.

  A little before nine, I took a seat at the Fin and Hoof Bar inside the hotel and ordered a cold beer on tap. The bartender, a burly, friendly young guy with a heavy mustache, looked me over. “You Alex?”

  My heart sank a little. Strangers almost never give cops good news. “That’s right,” I said.

  “Then I guess this is for you.”

  He handed me an envelope with the hotel logo. I recognized Bree’s handwriting and opened the letter at the bar. I read, Alex—Change of plans.—B.

  Inside the envelope, I also found a hotel card key.

  “Have a nice night, Alex,” said the bartender with a smile that suggested Bree had given him the envelope herself. “I’m pretty sure you will.”

  Chapter 77

  I TOOK THE ELEVATOR to the third floor of the Sheraton Suites and knocked on the door of 3B. Everything was exactly as I remembered it. For starters, there was a nice scent in the air. When Bree answered in jeans and a blouse, however, I was surprised. Actually, I’d been expecting a little less.

  “Hope you don’t mind spontaneity,” she said, and handed me a glass of red. It smelled spicy—zinfandel? I didn’t really care what kind of wine it was, or the brand.

  I started to kiss Bree, and my hand immediately drifted down the back of her blouse. Suddenly her arms were around me. I heard the door thunk behind us, and we were enveloped in the soft blues and creams of the hotel suite. Good idea. Keep the world away for a while, as long as we possibly could.

  The drapes were already drawn, and the bed was turned down just so, everything in its place. “That bed looks inviting. Sleeps nice too. I remember.”

  “Get undressed,” she said with a grin. “Don’t even think about sleeping, Alex.”

  I looked at her over the top of my wineglass. “You in a hurry or something?”

  “Not at all.”

  Bree sank down into a cushiony club chair to watch. There was a twinkle in her eyes. “You can take your time, if you like. Please do. Just take something off, Alex. I’m in no hurry whatsoever.”

  So I did what I was told. I went one button, one kiss, pair of pants, two kisses—that kind of thing.

  Then Bree pushed herself up. She came forward and held me in her arms. “Don’t take this the wrong way—I’m still in no hurry.” We finally toppled over onto the bed, which definitely was comfy.

  “What about you?” I asked her. She hadn’t taken off a single thing yet.

  “Oh, I’ll catch up with you. Eventually. You in a hurry for some reason?”

  Bree stretched across me, then reached and opened the nightstand drawer. What was in there?

  She took out the last thing I was expecting to see: two lengths of rope.

  Hmmm, interesting development. My heart was starting to race.

  “Is that for you or me?” I asked.

  “Let’s say it’s for both of us.”

  I trusted Bree, right? No doubts, no suspicions? Well, maybe a couple of questions right then. In a few moves, she looped my left hand firmly but not uncomfortably to the bed. Then she kissed me. A reassuring kiss on the mouth, followed by a second, harder one. Did I really know Bree?

  “Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?” I asked.

  “I hope it’s getting hot,” Bree said.

  She tied my right hand to the bed next. Bree did know her knots.

  “This why you became a cop?” I asked. “You a control freak, Detective Stone?”

  “Could be, Dr. Cross. We’ll soon find out, won’t we? You’re looking very yummy, there.”

  “Your turn,” I said. “Clothes off.”

  She flirted with her big
hazel eyes, and I must say, I was definitely starting to enjoy this—whatever it was. “Say please.”

  “Please. But can we hurry this up a little?”

  “So, you are in a hurry?”

  “Little bit now.”

  “Little bit, huh? I don’t know if little is the operative word around here right now.”

  Bree’s blouse went first—slowly—then her jeans, leaving a soft blue lace bra filled to the brim, and matching blue panties I hadn’t seen before. Fit right in with the eye-friendly decor of the suite.

  I tried to reach out for Bree, but the ropes held me back.

  “Come here, Bree. Kiss me,” I said. “Please kiss me. Just a kiss.”

  “Just a kiss, huh? I’m supposed to believe that one?”

  She did finally kiss me—but not until she’d taken her sweet time tasting me all over. I twisted and twined my legs with hers. That was about all I could do. I was getting a little crazy to move around but not totally minding that I couldn’t. And I was definitely hot for Detective Bree Stone, beginning to get in a big hurry too.

  “My, my, my,” she said, and smiled. “This is working out even better than I thought it would. We should come here more often.”

  “I agree. How about every night?”

  Finally she lay down on top of me. Bree’s lips were an inch from mine; her breasts were warm on my chest; her eyes were beautiful to stare at this close.

  “You want me to undo these nasty ropes now?” she asked.

  I nodded, breathing hard. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?” Her nails softly raked down my chest, then my legs, then between my legs. I shuddered at the touch, couldn’t help myself if I wanted to.

  “Yes, please! Is this about being in control?” I asked again.

  “No, Dr. Cross. It’s about trust. Do you trust me?”

  “Should I?”

  “Don’t answer a question with a question.”

  “Yeah, I do. I trust you. Is that a wise thing to do?”