Double Cross (Alex Cross 13)

He’d known I would come here and see it myself, hadn’t he?

A bright-red X was painted on top of the Wolffs’ car, a black S-Class Mercedes.

A second red X was painted across the front door, almost top to bottom.

Except I knew they weren’t Xs. They were crosses! And they were meant just for me.

The press was shouting questions from behind the police lines and also taking countless photographs of the house and car. It was all a blur for me right then.

“It’s DCAK, isn’t it?” I heard. “What’s he doing out here in Virginia? Is he going wide?”

No, I thought, but I kept it to myself. Kyle Craig isn’t going wide. Actually, he’s homing in now. And he has his target all picked out.

No—his targets. Kyle always did think big.

Chapter 106

KYLE HAD SPARED George Wolff and the three children, and I wondered why. Maybe because he was so focused now. He’d wanted Judge Nina Wolff . . . and only her. So what would he do next? And how long would I have to wait before he appeared on my doorstep? Or maybe inside the house?

My eight o’clock session that morning was with Sandy Quinlan. But she didn’t show up. Which only helped to make me more uncomfortable about everything that was going on. Now my practice was blowing up too, going to hell before my eyes.

I was also concerned. Sandy had never missed before, so I waited in the office until past nine. Then, Anthony Demao didn’t come to his session either. What was going on with those two? Were they together now? What else could go wrong today?

I waited as long as I could, then called Bree to tell her I was on my way to pick her up. We were heading off later that afternoon to Montana via Denver to check out Tyler Bell’s cabin. It was something we felt we had to do. See his place firsthand, go through whatever he’d left there.

As I was leaving my building, I nearly bumped into Sandy Quinlan. She was standing outside the front door on the sidewalk. Sandy was dressed all in black, covered with sweat, and out of brea

th.

“Sandy, what’s going on?” I asked, trying to keep my composure. “Where were you today?”

“Oh, Dr. Cross. I was afraid I’d miss you. I’m sorry I didn’t call.” She squinted up at me and motioned me over to the curb. “I had to come tell you . . . I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” I asked.

“Going back to Michigan. I don’t belong here in Washington, and frankly I came for the wrong reason. I mean, even if I did meet someone, what’s the point if I hate the city, right?”

“Sandy, can we schedule one more appointment before you go? First thing on Monday?” I asked. “I’m traveling, or I’d see you over the weekend.”

She smiled, looking as confident as I’d ever seen her. Then she shook her head. “I just came to say good-bye, Dr. Cross. My mind’s all made up. I know what I have to do.”

“Well, all right, then,” I told Sandy. I put out my hand, but she opened her arms and hugged me instead. Strange, forced, almost theatrical, it seemed to me.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” she whispered against my shoulder. “I wish I’d met you somewhere else. Not as my therapist.”

Then Sandy went up on her tiptoes and gave me a kiss on the lips. Her eyes flew wide; I think mine did too, and she blushed. “I can’t believe I just did that,” she gushed like a teenage girl.

“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything,” I said. I could have been angry, but what was the point? She was going back to Michigan, and maybe that was for the best.

After a short, awkward silence, Sandy pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. “Walk me to my car?”

“I’m parked the other way,” I told her.

Her head tilted coyly. “Walk you to your car, then?”

I laughed and took it as a compliment. “Good-bye, Sandy. And good luck in Michigan.”

She finger-waved, then gave me a little wink. “Good luck to you, Dr. Cross.”