Good-bye, Arnold. You're gone, and know what else? You're already forgotten.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 74
THE STORYTELLER HAD TO STOP the stream of murders now. He knew that; it was part of the plan, and the plan was a good one. What a pity, though, what a shame. He was just getting good at this, and he hadn't been good at anything for a long time.
Anyway, congratulations were in order. Praise for him was all over the TV, and in the newspapers, of course. Especially the L.A. Times, which had made that piece-of-shit Arnold Griner into such a saint and martyr. Everyone recognized the Storyteller's masterpiece - only it was so much better than they knew And he did want to celebrate, only there was still no one he could tell. He'd tried that in Vancouver and look what had happened. He'd had to kill a friend, well, an acquaintance, an old humpty-dump of his. So how would he celebrate? Arnold Griner was dead, and that made him laugh out loud sometimes. The ironies were building up now, including some subtle ones, like Griner getting his e-mails, then being his messenger to the police, then getting it himself In real life - as opposed to what had been written in the latest e- mail - the little prick had begged for his life when he saw who it was, when he finally understood, which made his murder even more satisfying. Hell, he hadn't killed Griner and his companion right away It had taken close to an hour, and he'd loved every minute of the melodrama.
So what would he do now?
He wanted to party, but there really was no one he could talk to about this. Boohoo, he had no one.
Then he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and it was so simple. He was in Westwood anyway so he parked in a lot and walked over to the wonderfully tacky Bruin Theater, where Collateral was playing. Tom Cruise, oh, good.
He wanted to go to the movies.
He wanted to sit with his people and watch Tom Cruise pretend he was a big, bad killer without any conscience or regrets.
Oohh, I'm scared, Tom.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 75
“MR. TRUSCOTT CALLED for you. He said he'd like an interview. Said it was important. That he'll come to the house if you like. He wondered if you received his notes about the women on death row”
I frowned and shook my head. “Ignore Truscott. Anything else happen while I was away?”
“Did Damon tell you he and his friend broke up?” Nana asked me quietly “Did you even know he had a girlfriend?”
We were sitting in the kitchen that Saturday afternoon on my first day back. I looked over toward the living room to make sure we were still alone.
“Is that the girl he's been talking to so much on the phone?” I asked.
“Well, not anymore,” she said. “Just as well, I'm sure. He's too young for any of that.”
She got up humming “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho” and turned her attention to a pot of chili she had going on the stove.
I was distracted by the chili itself, and the fact that she had used ground turkey instead of her usual beef or pork. Maybe Kayla Coles had worked some magic and finally gotten Nana to do something new to take care of herself. Good for Kayla.
“When did Damon tell you he had a girlfriend?” I asked, unable to completely drop the subject. I was more curious about it than I was reluctant to show how out of the loop I had become with my older son.
“He didn't tell me; it just sort of presented itself,” Nana said. “It's not something teenagers talk about directly Cornelia's been to the house a couple of times. To do homework. She's very nice. Her mother and father are lawyers, but I didn't hold that against her.“ She laughed at her little joke. ”Well, maybe I held it against her just a little.”
Cornelia? Nana the expert, and Alex the outsider. All my good intentions and the promise I'd made myself to do things differently had been swallowed up by whatever it was that always always - seemed to drag me back to theJob.
Missed out on Damonsfirst breakup. Can't get that one back. Cornelia, we hardly knew ya.
It was good to be home anyway. The kitchen was soon overflowing with the smells of Nana's cooking, exponentially so, as I was being received back with a party for friends and family Besides the chili, there was Nana's famous corn bread, two kinds of garlicky greens, seasoned steaks, and a batch of caramel bread pudding that was a rare show-off treat. Apparently, Dr. Coles hadn't completely gotten through to her about the taking-it-easy part.
I tried to help without getting in the way, while Nana checked her watch and just about flew around the kitchen. I would have been more excited if I felt I deserved a party. Not only was I out of the running for father of the year, but my return trip to L.A. was already booked.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 76
"LOOK WHO'S HERE with the family! Will you look at this.
Where's my camera?"
Sampson and Billie arrived early with three-month-old Djakata, whom I hadn't seen since she was a newborn. John, beaming, lifted her out of the Snugli on Billie's chest and put her in my arms. What a sight this was - Sampson with his baby girl. Papa Bear I thought. And Mama and Baby Bear.
“What a rare beauty,” I said, and she was - with cocoa skin and soft little swirls of dark hair all over her head. “She has the best of both of you. What a doll.”
Jannie came around and slipped between us to get a good look at Djakata. She was at the age where it sets in that she may have babies of her own someday, and she was starting to take a perspective.
“She's so teensy-tiny,” she said, her voice tinged with awe.
“Not too tiny,” Sampson said. “Hundredth percentile height and weight. Takes after her father. She'll be as big as Billie when she's five.”
“Let's just hope she doesn't get your hands and feet, poor thing,” Nana leaned in and said. Then she winked at Billie, who was already considered part of our family An intense feeling of homecoming overtook me right then and there. It was one of those transcendent moments that grabs you a little by surprise and reminds you all at once about the good things. Whatever else happened, there was this, where I needed to be, where I belonged.
Snapshot - remember the feeling for the next time I need it.
The feeling of intimacy didn't last long, though, as the house soon began filling up with other guests. A few of my old guard from DCPD were the next to show up;Jerome and Claudette Thurman came with Rakeem Powell and his new girlfriend, whose name I didn't catch. “Give it a week,” Sampson told me on the side. “If she's still around, then you can worry about it.”
Aunt Tia and my cousin Carter were the first actual family to come, followed by a string of warm and familiar faces, several of them bearing some vague resemblance to my own.
The last to arrive was Dr. Kayla Coles, and I greeted her at the door myself.
“Annie Sullivan, I presume?”
“Excuse me? Oh, I get it. The Miracle Worker.”
“The Miracle Worker - the one who got my grandmother to put turkey in her chili. I'm guessing that was your work. Well done.”
“At your service.” She curtsied playfully in her turquoise dress, which looked very comfortable even while it clung to her. Kayla didn't usually show off much of herself, and I couldn't help noticing. She definitely looked different than she did in her usual preppy-practical work clothes.
Instead of a medical bag, she carried a large covered crock.
“Now this might be your biggest trick yet,” I said. “Bringing someone else's food into Nana's kitchen? I want to see this.”
“Not just the food; I brought the recipe, too.”
She turned the crock around to show a white index card taped to the side.
“Heart-healthy baked beans for a woman who knows all too well how to cook with bacon fat.”
“Well, come on in,” I said with a sweeping gesture. “At your own risk.”
The sounds of Branford Marsalis Quartet's Romare Bear- den Revealed ushered us through the house, where the party was gathering up steam and everyone looked glad to see Dr. Kayla, who hap
pened to be a saint in the neighborhood. I couldn't help feeling a little giddy At the end of the week I'd be on another plane. But for now, this was as good as it gets.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 77
I FOUND SAMPSON AND BILLIE just as he was opening a beer in the kitchen, and I took it out of his hands. There was something I wanted to get out of the way with the big man before the festivities really got rolling.
“Follow me. I need to talk to you - before either of us has a drink,” I told him.
“Ooh, mysterious,” Billie said, and laughed at the two of us, the way she usually does.
Billie is an ER nurse, and she's seen it all.
“Come on upstairs,” I said to John.
“I already had a drink,” John said. “This is number two.”
“Come anyway We'll just be a minute, Billie.”
From my office in the attic, I could still hear the music muted through the floor. I recognized Dr. Kayla's laugh amid the indistinct thrum of party voices. Sampson leaned against the wall. “You wanted to see me, sir? In your office?”
He had on a funny T-shirt from his basketball team in the older men's league at St. Anthony's. It said, “Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt.”
“I didn't want to mix work with the party,” I said.
“But you can't help yourself.” Sampson grinned. “Can you?”
“I'm not home for too long. I have to go back to L.A., and I don't want to wait on this anymore.”
“Well, that's a good hook,” he said. “What's the pitch? Let's hear it.”
“Basically? Director Burns and I want you to think seriously about coming to work at the Bureau. We want you to make the move, John. Were you expecting it?” I asked.
He laughed. “More or less, of course. You've been hinting around enough. Burns looking to blackify the Bureau, sugar?”
“No. Not that I'd mind.”
What Burns wanted at the Bureau was more agents who knew the value of fieldwork, and people he could trust, his team. If I could recruit only one person, I'd told him, John Sampson would be my first choice. That was good enough for Burns.
“I've already got the go-ahead from the director's office,” I said. “Ron Burns wants the same things I do. Or maybe it's the other way around.”
“You mean he wants me?” Sampson asked.
“Well, we couldn't get Jerome or Rakeem, or the crossing guard at the Sojourner Truth school. So yeah, he'll settle for you.”
Sampson laughed loudly, one of my favorite sounds. “I miss you, too,” he said. "And believe it or not, I have an answer. I want you to come back to the Washington PD.
How's that for turnaround? You're right about one thing - we do have to get back together. One way or the other. I guess I vote for the other."
I couldn't help laughing out loud, too; then John and I banged closed fists, agreeing that we needed to work together again, one way or the other.
I told Sampson that I'd think about his surprising proposal, and he said he'd think about mine, too. Then Sampson swung open the office door and let in the music from downstairs.
Mary, Mary
Chapter 78
“ARE WE ALLOWED to have a drink now?” said Sampson. “It's a party, sugar. You do remember parties?”
“Vaguely,” I said.
Two minutes later, I had a beer in one hand and a rib dripping homemade barbecue sauce in the other. I found Jannie and Damon in the dining room playing Thirteen with a cousin of theirs, Michelle, and Kayla Coles. To be honest, though, it was Kayla who drew me over.
“Are you ignoring our guests?” I asked the kids.
“Not these two,” Jannie deadpanned, with a nod to Kayla and Michelle.
“No, they're whipping my butt too much to be ignoring me,” Kayla said, sending Jannie and Damon into conspiratorial laughs. There it was again. A woman and my kids, getting along. What was it about that? What was I missing?
I gave Dr. Kayla a long look as she shuffled and dealt the cards. She was incredibly grounded, and good-looking without trying to be. The thing of it was, I liked het I'd liked Kayla for a long, long time, ever since we were kids growing up in Southeast. And so?
“You looking at my cards?” she asked, breaking through my reverie, or whatever it was supposed to be.
“Not at your cards,” Jannie broke in. "At you, Dr. Kayla.
He's sneaky like that."
“All right, that's enough kidding around. I'm out of here. I have to go help Nana,” I said. I rolled my eyes for Kayla's ben- efit, and then I walked away Quickly.
“Don't go,” Kayla said. But I was already through the doorway As I headed to the kitchen, there was only one thing on my mind, though. How could I get Kayla alone at the party?
And where was I going to take her on our first date?
C ha te r 79 F' I TOOK KAYLA to Kinkead's on purpose. It had been my and Christine's favorite spot, but before that, it had been my favorite spot, and I was reclaiming it. Kayla arrived less than five minutes after I did, and I liked that. She was on time, no game-playing. She had on a black wrap cashmere sweater, black slacks, and kitten-heel sling-backs, and she was kind of dazzling again. In her own way.
“I'm sorry Alex,” she said as she walked up to me at the bar “I'm punctual. I know it's a big bore and takes all the mystery out of things, but I just can't help myself. Next time, and there will be a next time, I'll force myself to be fashionably late. At least ten minutes, maybe fifteen.”
“You're forgiven,” I said, and suddenly I felt incredibly relaxed. “You just broke the ice, huh?”
Kayla winked. “I did, didn't I? Just like that. God, I'm good, aren't I? Sneaky, just like you are.“ ”You know the axiom that men don't like women who threaten them because they're too smart?“ I said. ”You're scary smart.”
"But you're the exception that proves the rule, right? You like smart women just fine.
Anyway, I'm not that smart. Tell you why - my theory anyway"
“Tell away I'll have a beer, Pilsner on tap,” I said to the bartender.
Kayla continued, "I see all these supposedly supersmart people at the hospital, doctors and researchers who are complete disasters in their personal lives. So how smart can they really be? What, they're smart because they can memorize facts and other people's ideas?
Because they know every rock-and-roll song ever recorded? Or the storyline for every episode of Bewitched?"
I rolled my eyes. “You know the storylines of Bewitched? You know people who know the storylines of Bewitched?”
“My God, no. Maybe ER. And Scrubs.”
“I know a lot of R & B songs,” I told her. “Haven't figured out life too good, though.”
Kayla laughed. “I disagree. I've met your kids, Alex.”
“Have you met Christine Johnson?”
“Stop it. Anyway, I have met her. She's an impressive woman. Completely A little messed-up right now.”
“All right, I'm not going to argue. I could make a good case against myself, though.”
We talked like that, laughed a lot, drank some, ate good food. Interestingly, we stayed away from talk about Nana and the kids, maybe because that would have been too easy As always, I enjoyed Kayla's sense of humor, but most of all, her confidence. She was comfortable in her own skin, not defensive. I liked being out on a date with her.
We were finishing an after-dinner drink when she declared, "This has been nice, Alex.
Very nice and easy"
“Surprised?” I asked heL “No, not really Well, maybe a little bit,” she admitted. “Maybe a lot.”
“Want to tell me why?”
“Hmm. I guess because I knew you had no idea who I was, even though you probably thought that you did.”
“When I see you, you're usually working,” I said. “You're being Dr. Kayla of Neighborhood Health Services.”
“lake two aspirin, don't you dare call me at home,” she said, and laughed. “I guess what's hard is that lots of people confi
de in me, but most of the time, I don't get to confide back.”
I smiled. “You have anything you'd like to tell me?”
Kayla shook her head. “I think that I said it already This has been good. I enjoyed tonight even more than I thought I would.”
“Right. And there will be a next time. That's what you said.”
She gave me the most delightful wink. “Wasn't I right about that?”
“You were right. If you'll see me again.”
“Oh, I'll see you, Alex. Of course I will. I want to see how this turns out.”
Mary, Mary
Chapter 80
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, when I got back to the West Coast, the L.A. Bureau field office was buzzing about the latest in the Mary Smith case, but also about me, which wasn't good news, to put it mildly Apparently, word had gotten around that Maddux Fielding and I hadn't exactly hit it off after he replaced Jeanne Galletta. The Bureau-LAPD relationship had always been tenuous, more functional on some cases than others, and this was a definite downturn.
The general gossip/debate, from what I gathered, was about whether or not Agent Cross from D.C. had waltzed in with nothing to lose, and then cavalierly screwed things up for the LAPD.
I let it bother me for about five minutes; then I moved on.
Mary Smith, aka the Hollywood Stalker, aka Dirty Mary was turning out to be one of the busiest, fastest-moving -and fastest-changing - murder cases anyone could remember.
Even the old hands were talking about it. Especially now that there was a little controversy mixed in with the moments of dizzying mayhem.
Another e-mail had arrived the morning I got to town. I hadn't seen it yet, but the word was that this one was different, and LAPD was already scrambling to respond. Mary Smith had sent a warning this time, and her message had been taken very seriously We gathered in the fourteenth-floor conference room, designated weeks ago as the Bureau's Mary Smith nerve center. Photos, newspaper clippings, and lab reports lined the walls. A temporary phone bank sat along one side of a huge cherry table that dominated the room with both its length and width.
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