Cross Justice (Alex Cross 23)

“Looking forward to seeing them,” I said. “But I want you to keep your options open, young lady. Okay?”

“Yeah, for real, Jannie,” Damon said. “If you have Duke already at your door, you know there’s going to be a whole lot more.”

Jannie nodded, and then sobered. “Sharon and her mom going to jail?”

“They’re turning evidence against Marvin Bell, but even if they convince a jury that he forced them into lying about the rape, planting Stefan’s DNA, and putting the drugs in your bag, I still think they’re both looking at convictions and sentences.”

“I don’t want it to, like, completely ruin their lives,” Jannie said.

“Neither do I,” I said. “Have f

un.”

“Always,” Ali said.

I grinned. “You do, don’t you?”

“Like Jim Shockey. Life’s an adventure.”

Feeling like my youngest had an understanding of life far beyond his years, I walked over to Pinkie and Bree.

“Gimme some rabbit so I don’t have to stand in line,” Bree said, looking hungrily at my plate.

“Not a chance,” I said.

“What?” she said, miffed. “After how hard and ingeniously I worked on behalf of your cousin?”

“Okay,” I said. “Take the thigh there.”

Bree snatched it off the plate.

“What about me?” Pinkie said.

“You’re able-bodied enough to work on oil rigs,” I said. “Get in line.”

My cousin laughed and went off toward the food.

Bree took two bites of the rabbit and looked like she was in heaven. “I had it figured out, you know. About Caine. Well, everything except Rashawn.”

“I believe you.”

I did. That satellite photo she’d shown me in court was of Caine Industries, which sat by the tracks between the Starksville Road and the crossing three miles to the south. Bree had figured out from the trail-cam photographs that the riders were boarding between those two crossings.

She’d called up Google Earth, saw the rail-line spur that ran out of Caine’s business, and thought, What a great cover for a meth-manufacturing op.

Bree said, “If your dad hadn’t gone Rambo, I would have pinned Caine to the wall.”

“Yes, you would have,” I said. “And for that, I think you’ve earned some downtime in Jamaica.”

Bree perked up. “Really?”

“Why not?”

“Just us?”

“Why not?”

“When?”