Cross Country (Alex Cross 14) - Page 65

Like most of the men she met, no doubt, I wanted to kiss Adanne, but I held myself back. I didn’t want to insult her or dishonor her parents, or, more important, Bree.

She smiled at me. “You are a good man, Alex. I wasn’t expecting that—in an American.”

Chapter 96

I EXCUSED MYSELF for a few minutes and borrowed Adanne’s mobile to make a call. I didn’t think Ian Flaherty would pick up, but I wanted to at least try and reestablish contact with the CIA.

So I was surprised when Flaherty answered on the second ring, and then shocked when he knew it was me calling.

“Cross?”

“Flaherty? How did you do that?”

“Caller ID, ever heard of it?”

“But—”

“Tansi. Your girlfriend’s name is on the AU flight record along with yours. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Both of you—she’s a celebrity too. Writes controversial articles, one after the other. She’s a big deal down here. We need to talk. Seriously. You finally have my interest. And so does your killer, the Tiger.”

“Hang on a second. Slow down.” I’d forgotten how quickly Flaherty could piss me off. “You’ve been looking for me? Since when? I only tried you about sixteen times.”

“Since I learned something you want to know.”

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer right away. “I mean, I found out something you want to know.”

It was suddenly obvious to me that he didn’t trust the phone line. I stopped to regroup for a second and picked up a pen from the desk.

“Where can I meet you?”

“Let’s say tomorrow, same time as before, at the place on that card I gave you. You know what I’m talking about, Detective Cross?”

He meant the bank on Broad Street but didn’t want to name it, obviously. It was a Victoria Island location, so it was perfect for me.

“Got it. I’ll see you then.”

“And dress nice, Detective. Wear a tie or something.”

“A tie?” I said. “What are you talking about?”

But he’d already hung up on me.

The prick.

Chapter 97

EVERYONE WAS WAITING for me on the patio after my call—with palm wine and kola nuts untouched until I got there.

First though, Adanne’s father, Uchenna, blessed the nuts in the Yoruban custom, and the boys, James and Calvin, passed them around.

Adanne seemed to be finding my visit either very joyful or amusing, and she was smiling all the time. I could tell she was happy to be home.

Then the boys got me into a little backyard soccer. The twi

ns were either polite or genuinely impressed that I could juggle the ball a little, even as they schooled me up and down the yard. But it felt good to be running around with the kids. Nice boys. Not killers.

Dinner was a chicken stew called egusi—and fufu, which is pounded yam for dipping in the broth. There were also fried plaintains, served with a spiced tomato sauce that could have taken the paint off a car. The family setting seemed familiar to me, yet different at the same time, and I ate easily the best meal I’d had in Africa.

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