Cross Justice (Alex Cross 23)

“Do it,” he said.

“Your Honor,” the sheriff said. “This sends a—”

“It sends the right message,” the judge said. “Though I didn’t see it that way at first, Dr. and Ms. Cross are correct. Mr. Tate’s right to a fair trial supersedes your right to maintain a safe jail. Restrain him as you see fit, but I want him made available to counsel within the hour.”

“What that sonofabitch did to that boy?” Chief Sherman snarled at me as he left. “You ask me, your cousin lost all his damn rights that night.”

Chapter

12

The pretty little four-year-old girl with the golden curls wore a pink princess outfit and knelt on one side of a low table. She picked up a pot.

“Do you want some tea with your cookie?” she sweetly asked the older man sitting cross-legged on the floor across from her.

“How could I say no to such a kind offer from such a darling young lady?” he replied, smiling.

He knew he looked ridiculous in the crown she’d made him wear. But he was so entranced by the girl that he didn’t care. Her skin was the color of fresh cream, and her eyes shone like polished sapphires. He watched her pour the tea into his cup so delicately it made him want to cry.

“Sugar?” she asked, setting the pot down.

“Two lumps,” he said.

She dropped two cubes in his cup and one in her own.

“Milk?”

“Not today, Lizzie,” he said, reaching for his cup.

Lizzie snatched up a pink wand, reached out, and tapped his hand with it. “Wait. I have to make sure there are no evil spirits around.”

His brow knit and he drew back his hand. The little girl closed her eyes, smiled, and waved her wand. His heart melted to see her caught up in fantasy the way only a four-year-old can be.

Lizzie opened her mouth—to deliver a spell, no doubt.

But before she could, there was a knock behind him.

Irritated at the interruption, the man turned, and the crown fell off his head, irritating him further. A muscular bald white guy in his thirties stood in the doorway, fighting not to show his amusement.

“Can this wait, Meeks?” the man asked. “Lizzie and I are having tea.”

“I can see that, boss, but you’ve got a call,” Meeks said. “It’s urgent.”

“Grandfather, you haven’t had your tea and cookie,” the little girl protested.

“Grandfather will be back as soon as he’s done,” he said, groaning as he got to his feet.

“When will that be?” she demanded, crossing her arms and pouting.

“Quick as I can,” he promised.

Grandfather walked to Meeks, who was still smirking, and said, “Fill in for me.”

The smirk disappeared. “What?”

“Sit down, have some tea, and eat a crumpet with my granddaughter. But you can’t wear the crown.”

“You’re kidding, right?”