Kiss the Girls (Alex Cross 2)

“This is an excellent offer for a man in your position to consider. Since you’re already outside the multijurisdictional mess, and therefore immune to it, why don’t you keep it that way. Stay on the outside, and work directly with me.”

“Work with the Federal Bureau?” I choked on my beer. “Collaborate with the Feebies?”

“I can give you access to all the information we get, as soon as we get it. I’ll give you everything you need in terms of resources and information and all of our current data.”

“And you don’t have to share anything I come up with? Not even with the local or state police?” I said.

Kyle had become his intense self again. “Look, Alex, this investigation is large and expensive, but it’s getting nowhere. Officers are falling over one another while women all over the South, including your niece, are disappearing right under our noses.”

“I understand the problem, Kyle. Let me think about your solution. Give me a little space on this one.”

Kyle and I talked some more about his offer, and I was able to pin him down on a few specifics. Basically I was sold, though. Working with Kyle would give me access to a first-rate support team, and I’d have clout whenever I needed it. I wouldn’t be alone anymore. We ordered burgers and more beers, and continued to talk and put the final touches on my deal with the Devil. For the first time since I’d come South, I was feeling a little hopeful.

“I do have something else to share with you,” I finally told him. “He dropped me a note last night. It was a nice note, thoughtful, welcoming me to the area.”

“We know.” Kyle grinned like the grown-up Andy Hardy that he is. “It was a postcard, actually. It showed an odalisque, a love slave from a harem.”

CHAPTER 32

BY THE time I got back to my room it was a little late, but I called Nana and the kids, anyway. I always call home when I’m away, twice every day, morning and night. I hadn’t missed yet, and didn’t plan to start that night.

“Are you listening to Nana and being a good girl for a change?” I asked Jannie when she came on the phone.

“I’m always a good girl!” Jannie squealed with little-girl glee. She loves talking to me. I feel the same way about her. Amazing, we were still madly in love after five years together.

I closed my eyes and visualized my girl. I could just see her puffing out her little chest, making her face look defiant, but smiling pointy crooked teeth at the same time. Once, Naomi had been a sweet little girl like that. I remembered everything about those times. I chased away the thought, the vivid portrait of Scootchie.

“Well, how about your big brother? Damon says he’s being especially good, too. He says Nana’s called you ‘the holy terror’ today. Is that so?”

“Unh-uh, Daddy. That’s what Nana called him. Damon’s the holy terror in this house. I’m Nana’s angel all the time. I’m Nana Mama’s good girl angel. You can axt her.”

“Uh-huh. That’s good to hear,” I told my little spin-doctor. “Did you pull Damon’s hair just a tiny bit at Roy Rogers junk-food restaurant today?”

“Not junk food, pally-wally! He pulled my hair first. Damon almost pulled my hair out, like I was Baby Clare without her hair now.”

Baby Clare had been Jannie’s main doll since she was two years old. The doll was “her baby,” absolutely sacred to Jannie. Sacred to all of us. Once we had left Baby Clare at Williamsburg during a day trip, and we had to drive all the way back. Magically, Clare was waiting for us at the front-gate office, having a nice chat with the security guard.

“I couldn’t pull Damon’s hair, anyway. He’s almost bald, Daddy. Nana got him his summer haircut. Wait’ll you see my bald brother. He’s a pool ball!”

I could hear her laughing. I could see Jannie laughing. In the background, Damon wanted the phone back. He wanted his rebuttal about the state of his haircut.

After I finished with the kids, I talked to Nana.

“How are you holding up, Alex?” She went right to the point, as she always does. She would have made an outstanding detective, or anything else she wanted to be. “Alex, I asked how you’re doing?”

“I’m doing just fine and dandy. Love my work,” I told her. “How are you, old woman?”

“Never mind that. I would watch these children in my sleep. You don’t sound good to me. You’re not sleeping, and you haven’t made a lot of progress, have you?”

Man, she was tough when she wanted to be. “It’s not going as well as I would have hoped,” I told her. “Something good might have just happened tonight.”

“I know,” Nana said, “that’s why you’re calling up so late. But you can’t share the good news with your grandmother. You’re afraid I might call the Washington Post.”

We’d had this discussion before on cases I was working on. She always wants inside information, and I can’t give it up.

“I lov

e you,” I finally said to her. “That’s the best I can do right now.”