I clicked Pause on the machine to take a second and decide how I felt about what was going on here. My thoughts went straight back to Mary Smith. I had let her into my head again. She'd caught my interest, my curiosity probably my ego. A female serial killer - could it be? Killing other women? Mothers?
But why? Would a woman do that? I didn't think so. I just couldn't imagine it happening, which didn't mean that it hadn't.
I also wondered if there had been another e-mail to Arnold Griner. What part did Griner, or the L.A. Times, play in all this? Did Mary Smith already have the next victim in her sights? What was her motivation?
That was the line of thought that finally got to me. Some unsuspecting woman, a mother, was going to lose her life in L.A. soon. A husband, and probably children, would be left behind. It hit too close to home for me, and I think Burns knew that when he called. Of course he did. several years before, my own wife, Maria, had been gunned down in a drive-by shooting. Maria had died in my arms. No one was ever convicted, or even arrested. My biggest case, and I'd failed on it. It was all so unspeakably senseless. And now this terrible case in L.A. I didn't need my PhD in psych to know that Mary Smith was pushing all my buttons, both personally and professionally Maybe I would just check in, I thought. Besides, Burns was right - I didn't want to show up behind the ball on Monday morning.
Damn it, Alex, you're weakening.
When I picked up the phone, though, I was surprised to hear Damon's voice already on the line.
“Yeah, I missed you, too. 1 was thinking about you. I swear I was, all the time.”
Then an adolescent girl's laughter. "Did you bring me anything from California, Day?
Mouse ears? Somethin', somethin'?"
I forced myself to hang up, quietly Yeah, I missed you, too? Who was this girl? And since when was Day keeping secrets? I had fooled myself into thinking that if a girlfriend came along, he'd want to tell me about it. That suddenly seemed like a silly delusion on my part. I'd been thirteen before, too.
What was I thinking?
One teenage moment down. About two million to go. I'd give him five minutes and then tell him it was time to hang up. Meanwhile, I went back to the answering machine - where another message was waiting.
A real mindblower.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 30
"ALEX, IT'S BEN ABAJIAN calling on Thursday, one-thirty my time in Seattle. Listen, I have bad news I'm afraid.
“It seems that Christine's attorney has filed a motion to move up the final custody hearing date out here. I'm not sure I'll be able to block it, or even that we should. There's more, but I'd rather not go into it until we speak. Please give me a call as soon as possible.”
My heart picked up its pace. Ben Abajian was my lawyer in Seattle. I had hired him soon after Christine brought Little Alex to live there. We'd talked a couple dozen times since then - on my dime, of course.
He was an excellent attorney, a good guy, too, but his message was a bad sign. My guess was that Christine had taken her own interpretation of what had happened in California and run with it, straight to her counsel. With the time difference out west, I was able to catch Ben Abajian still in the office. He tried to emphasize the positive for me, but his tone was all bad.
“Alex, this is only temporary, but they've also filed an ex parte motion asking for sole physical custody of Alex Junior until the final hearing is over. The judge went for it. I'm sorry to have to tell you that.”
I squeezed the phone tight in my hand. It was hard to respond, or even take in what Ben was telling me. Christine had never gotten this aggressive before. Now she seemed to be trying to keep me from even seeing Little Alex. In fact, she'd just succeeded, at least temporarily.
“Alex, are you there?”
“Yeah, Ben, I'm here. Sorry Just give me a second.”
I put dowTi the phone and took a deep breath. It would do me no good to spiral down right now. Or to blow up over the phone. None of this was Ben's fault.
I put the phone back to my ear. “What was the basis for the claim?” Tasked. Not that I didn't already know, or at least suspect.
“Concern for Alex's safety The motion cited the dangerous police work you were doing while you were in California with him. The fact that you supposedly abused your privileges while he was in your care at Disneyland.”
“Ben, that's bullshit. It's a complete rearrangement of the facts. I consulted on a case with LAPD.”
“I'm assuming as much,” he told me. “Anne Billingsley's her attorney It's not beyond her to do a little grandstanding, even at this phase. Don't let it get to you, okay?” Ben went on, “Besides, there's some good news here, believe it or not. An earlier trial date means they have less time for Christine to establish a status quo under the new arrangement. The judge isn't supposed to take these temporary orders into account, but it's like unringing a bell. So the sooner the better, really. We were actually lucky to get on the calendar this early.”
“Great,” I said. “Lucky us.”
Ben told me to write an account of exactly what happened in California. I had been keeping a diary on his advice ever since I'd hired him. It included time spent with Alex, things I noticed about his development, family photos, and, maybe most important, any concerns I had about Christine. The fact that she had whisked our son away from me two days early certainly qualified. Those ups and downs of hers were a concern, deeply troubling. Was this latest development one of them?
“There's one other thing,” Ben told me. “You might not like it a whole lot.”
“Listen, you find something for me to like about all this and I'll double your fee.”
“Well, one of your strongest arguments is going to be Alex's relationship to his siblings.”
“Jannie and Damon aren't going on the witness stand,” I said flatly. “That's a no, Ben; I won't allow it.”
How many times had I seen capable adult witnesses eviscerated in a courtroom? Too many to even consider putting my kids up there.
“No, no, no,” Ben assured me. “Definitely not. But it would have a positive impact if they could be present for the searing. You want Alex back, don't you? That's our goal, right? If I'm wrong about that, then I don't want to spend time on your case.”
I looked around my office, as if for some kind of magic answeL “I'm going to have to think about it,“ 1 finally said. ”I'll get back to you.”
“Remember the big picture, Alex. This isn't going to be pleasant, far from it, but it will be worth it in the long run. We can win this thing. We will win.”
He was so calm and collected. Not that I expected him to get emotional - I just wasn't in the mood for a rational conversation with my attorney.
“Can we talk first thing tomorrow?” I asked.
“Sure. But listen, you can't give up hope. When we get in front of a judge, you need to know in your heart that you're the best parent for your son. That doesn't mean we have to trash Christine Johnson, but you can't come in looking, seeming, or even feeling defeated. Okay?”
“I'm not defeated. Not even close to it. I can't lose my son, Ben. I won't lose Alex.”
“I'll do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Call me at work or at home. You have my cell?”
“I have it.”
I don't know if I said good-bye to Ben or even hung up before I threw the phone across the room.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 31
“WHAT'S GOING ON UP THERE?” Nana called from below "Alex? Are you okay?
What happened?"
I looked at the smashed phone on the floor and felt unhinged. “It's all right,” I called back. “I just dropped something. Everything's fine.”
Even the little lie didn't sit well with me, but I couldn't face anyone right now Not even Nana Mama. I pushed back from my desk and put my head down between my knees.
Goddamn Christine. What was wrong with her? It just wasn't right, and she had to know that.
/>
She couldn't have chosen a worse way of going about this, eithet She was the one who decided to leave, who said she was unfit to be Alex's mom. She told me that. She used the word - unfit. And she was the one who kept changing her mind. Nothing had ever changed for me. I wanted Alex from the moment I set eyes on him, and I wanted him even more now I could see his face, his shy little smile, a cute wink he'd developed lately I could hear his voice inside my head. I wanted to give him a big hug that wouldn't stop.
It felt so unfair, so completely wrongheaded. All I had in me was anger and even a little hatred for Christine, which only made me feel worse. I'd give her a fight if that's what she wanted, but it was insane that she did.
Breathe, I told myself.
I was supposed to be good at staying calm in a bad situation. But I couldn't help feeling that I was being punished for doing my job, for being a cop.
I don't know how long I sat up there, but when I finally left the attic, the house was dark and still. Jannie and Damon were asleep in their rooms. I went in and kissed them good night anyway I took Jannie's mouse ears off and put them on the bedside table.
Then I went out to the back porch. I flipped the lid on the piano and sat down to play Therapy for one.
Usually, the music took hold of me, helped me work through or forget whatever was bothering me.
Tonight, the blues just came out angry and all wrong. I switched to Brahms, something more soothing, but it didn't help in the least. My pianissimo sounded forte, and my arpeggios were like boots clomping up and down stairs.
I finally stopped midphrase, hands over the keys.
In the silence, I heard the sharp intake of my own breath, an involuntary gulp of ai What if I lose Little Alex?
Mary, Mary
Chapter 32
NOTHING COULD BE WORSE than this, nothing I could imagine.
A few days later, we all flew out to Seattle for Alex's custody hearing. The whole Cross family went west again. No vacation this time, though, not even a short one.
The morning after we arrived, Jannie, Damon, and Nana sat quietly behind me on the courtroom benches as we waited for things to get started. Our conversation had dropped off to a tense silence, but having them there meant even more than I would have thought.
I straightened the papers in front of me for about the tenth time. I'm sure I looked fine to everyone, but I was a wreck inside, all hollowed out.
Ben Abajian and I were seated at the respondent's table on the left side of the room. It was a warmly appointed but impersonal space, with honey-colored wood veneer on the walls and standard-issue contemporary furniture.
There were no windows, not that it mattered. Seattle was showing off its dark, rainy side that morning.
When Christine came in, she looked very fresh and put together. I'm not sure what I expected, maybe some outward indication that this was as hard for her as it was for me.
Her hair looked longer, pulled back in a French braid. Her navy suit and gray high- collared silk blouse were more conservative than I was used to with her - and more imposing. She looked as if she could be another lawyer in the room. It was perfect.
Our eyes met briefly. She nodded my way, without showing any emotion. For a second, I flashed onto a memory of her looking at me across the table at Kinkead's, our old favorite dinner spot in D.C. It was hard to believe these were the same eyes meeting mine in this courtroom, or that she was the same person.
She said a brief hello to Jannie, Damon, and Nana. The kids were reserved and polite, which I appreciated.
Nana was the only one to be somewhat hostile. She stared at Christine all the way to the petitioner's table.
“So disappointing,” she muttered. “Oh, Christine, Christine, who are you? You know better than this. You know better than to cause harm to a child.”
Then Christine turned back and looked at Nana, and she seemed afraid, something I'd never seen in her before.
What was she afraid of?
Mary, Mary
Chapter 33
MS. BWLINGSLEY SAT on Christine's left, and Ben was on my right, blocking our view of each other. That was probably a good thing. I didn't want to see her right now I couldn't remember ever being so mad at anyone before, especially not someone I had cared for. What are you doing, Christine? Who are you?
My mind whirred as the hearing began and Anne Billingsley went into her slickly rehearsed opening statement.
It wasn't until I heard the phrase “born in captivity” that my focus really snapped into place. She was talking about the circumstances of Little Alex's birth, after Christine had been kidnapped while we were on vacation in Jamaica, the beginning of the end for us.
I began to see that Billingsley was every bit the viper Ben had made her out to be. Her wrinkled face and cropped silver hair belied a certain lawyerly showmanship. She hit all her key words hard and with perfect enunciation.
“Your Honor, we will discuss the many dangers encountered by Ms. Johnson's son and also by Ms. Johnson herself, during a brief, tumultuous relationship with Mr. Cross, who has a long history of involvement with the most extreme homicide cases. And a long history of putting those around him injeopardy”
It went on and on from there, one loaded statement after another.
I glanced briefly in Christine's direction, but she just stared straight ahead. Was this really what she wanted? How she wanted it to go? I couldn't interpret her flat expression, no matter how I tried.
When Ms. Billingsley was through assassinating my character, she stopped her manic pacing and sat down.
Ben stood up immediately, but he stayed right next to me throughout his opening speech.
"Your Honor, I needn't take up a lot of the court's time at this point. You've seen the trial brief, and you know the key factors in this case. You already know that the first seeds of this arbitration were planted on the day that Ms. Johnson abandoned her newborn son.
"You also know that Doctor Cross provided Alex Junior with the kind of loving home any child would want during the first year and a half of his life. And you know that the longest bond, as they call it, the one we share with our siblings, exists for Little Alex at home in Washington, D.C., with the only family he knew up until last year.
"Finally, we all know that structure and opportunity for success are key issues in determining what is best for a child in the unfortunate circumstance of separated parents.
I will say right now, and I believe you will agree, that a home with a father, great- grandmother, brother, sister, and numerous cousins and aunts nearby would provide a more thoroughly supportive experience for a child than to be raised by a mother who lives three thousand miles from what little family she does have, and who thus far has changed her mind twice about her own commitment to the child in question.
“Having said that much, I am not here to malign Ms. Johnson. She is, by all accounts, a perfectly decent parent when she chooses to be one. What I am here to do is illuminate the common-sense conclusion that my client's son, and any child, is better off with a parent whose commitment has never wavered, and shows no sign of doing so in the future.”
In our pretrial meetings, Ben and I had agreed to keep everything civil, if we could. I knew ahead of time what he was going to say, but here in the courtroom, and in front of Christine, it sounded different to my ears. It now seemed depressingly combative, not unlike what Anne Billingsley had just done to me in her opening.
I felt a little guilty No matter what kind of mud Christine's lawyer wanted to fling, at the end of the day I was still responsible for my own actions, and even my lawyer's. That was something Nana had hardwired into me a long time ago.
One thing hadn't changed, though. My resolve was still strong; I was here to bring my youngest son back home to Washington. But listening to Ben Abajian's statement, I had the feeling that this case would have no winners. It was only a matter of who lost less.
Hopefully, it wouldn't be Little Alex who lost.
a,ap
ter34 “MS. JOHNSON, can you please tell us in your own words why you are here today?”
I wondered if anyone else could see how nervous Christine was on the stand. She grasped the fingers of one hand with the other, stopping all but the tiniest bit of shaking. I couldn't help grimacing, and my stomach was tightening up. I hated to see her like this, even now, under the circumstances that she had created for herself.
'When Christine answered Anne Billingsley's questions, her voice was steady, though, and she seemed perfectly at ease.
“It's time for my son to have a permanent arrangement and stability in his homelife. I want to ensure him the kind of consistency I know he should have. And most of all, I want him to be safe.”
Billingsley stayed in her chair, feigning - or maybe feeling - supreme confidence.
"Could you please tell us about the events leading up to your separation from Mr.
Cross?"
Christine looked down and took a moment to gather herself. I couldn't imagine that she was acting right now Her integrity had been one of the reasons I fell in love with her, in that previous lifetime of ours.
“Just after I became pregnant, I was kidnapped and held hostage for ten months,” she said, looking up again. “The people who kidnapped me were out to hurt Alex. When that terrible time was all over, I found it impossible to return to a normal life with him. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.”
“And just for the record, by Alex you mean ML Cross?”
Not Agent or Doctor Cross, but Mister Cross. Any little dig the lawyer could get in.
Even Christine winced, but then she said, “That's right.”
“Thank you, Christine. No I want to go back just a little bit. Your son was born in Jamaica, while you were being held hostage. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Was he born in a hospital inJamaica, or under any medical supervision?”
“No. It was in a small shack in the woods, the jungle. They brought a midwife of some kind, but she didn't speak English, at least not to me, and there was no prenatal care at all. I was extremely thankful that Alex Junior was born healthy, and stayed that way Essentially, we lived in a prison cell for those months.”
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