Four Blind Mice (Alex Cross 8)

A Washington Post article the other day proclaimed that some people in the neighborhood actually protect the dealers. Well, some people think the dealers do more good things for the community than the politicians do — like throwing block parties and giving kids ice cream money on hot summer days.

I’ve been here since I was ten, and we’ll probably stay in Southeast. I love the old neighborhood, not just the memories but the promise of things that could still happen here.

When I got home from my run, the kitchen lights still weren’t on. An alarm was sounding inside my head.

Pretty loud too.

I went down the narrow hallway from the kitchen to check on Nana.

Chapter 22

I EDGED OPEN the door and saw her lying in bed, so I quietly moved into the room. Rosie the cat was perched on the windowsill. She meowed softly. Some watchcat.

I let my eyes roam. Saw a familiar framed poster depicting jazz musicians by Romare Bearden; it’s called Wrapping It Up at the Lafayette.

On top of her armoire were dozens of hatboxes. Nana’s collection of hats for special occasions would be the envy of any milliner.

I realized I couldn’t hear Nana’s breathing.

My body tensed and suddenly there was a loud roaring sound inside my head. She hadn’t gotten up to make breakfast only a handful of times since I was a kid. I felt the fears of a child as I stood perfectly still in her room.

Oh God, no. Don’t let this happen.

When I got close to her bed, I heard shallow breaths. Then her eyes popped open.

“Alex?” she whispered. “What’s happening? Why are you in here? What time is it?”

“Hi there, sweetheart. You okay?” I asked.

“I’m just kind of tired. Feeling a little under the weather this morning.” She squinted her eyes to look at the old Westclox on her night table. “Seven? Oh my. Half the morning’s gone.”

“You want a little breakfast? How about breakfast in bed this morning? I’m buying,” I said.

She sighed. “I think I’ll just sleep in a little longer, Alex. You mind? Can you get the kids ready for school?”

“Sure. Are you positive you’re okay?”

“I’ll see you later. I’m fine. Just a little tired this morning. Get the children up, Alex.” Rosie was trying to get into bed with Nana, but she wasn’t having any of it. “Scat, cat,” she whispered.

I got the three kids up, or so I thought, but then I had to rouse Jannie and Damon a second time. I put out their favorite cereals and some fruit, and then I made scrambled eggs — overdoing it a little to compensate for Nana’s not being there. I warmed Alex’s milk, then fixed his breakfast and spoon-fed it to him.

The kids marched off to school, and I cleaned up after they were gone. I changed Alex’s diapers for the second time that morning, and I put him in a fresh onesie covered with fire trucks. He was liking this extra attention, seemed to think it was funny.

“Don’t get used to this, little buddy,” I told him.

I checked on Nana, and she was still resting. She was fast asleep, actually. I listened to her breathing for a couple of minutes. She seemed all right.

Her bedroom was so peaceful, but not old-lady rosy. There was a fuzzy, very colorful orange and purple rug at the foot of the bed. She says the rug gives her happy feet.

I took Little Alex upstairs to my room, where I hoped to get some work done that morning. I called a friend at the Pentagon. His name’s Kevin Cassidy. We had worked a murder case together a few years back.

I told him about the situation at Fort Bragg, and how little time Sergeant Cooper had on death row. Kevin listened, then cautioned me to be extremely careful. “There are a lot of good folks in the army, Alex. Good people, well intentioned, honorable as hell. But we like to clean up our own messes. Outsiders aren’t usually welcome. You hear what I’m saying?”

“Ellis Cooper didn’t commit those murders,” I told him. “I’m almost certain of it. But I’ll take your advice to heart. We’re running out of time, Kevin.”

“I’ll check into it for you,” he said. “Let me do it, Alex.”

After I got off the phone with the Pentagon, I called Ron Burns at the FBI. I told him about the developing situation at Fort Bragg. The director and I had gotten fairly close during the troubles with Kyle Craig. Burns wanted to get me over to the Bureau, and I was thinking about it.