Cross the Line (Alex Cross #24)(28)

CHAPTER


30


“FINALLY,” JANNIE SAID when I walked out onto the front porch and found her stretching.

“Your brother had lots of questions.”

“As usual,” Jannie said, sounding slightly miffed. “Where does he come up with that stuff? Dreams and time and, I don’t know, the universe?”

“Those shows he watches,” I said, trying to stretch my hips and failing miserably. “And the Internet.”

“He’s the only kid I know who thinks like that,” she said.

“It’s a good thing.”

“I guess,” she said. “But it’s like guaranteed now he’s going to be a nerd.”

“Nerds rule the world these days, or hadn’t you noticed?”

Jannie thought about that, said, “Well, I guess it would be okay if my little brother grew up to rule the world.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Right.” She grinned. “Now, are we going to run or not?”

“To be honest, I would vote for not.”

“Do I need to remind you about the ten pounds you need to lose?”

“Ouch,” I said. “And it’s five.”

Jannie crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow skeptically.

“Okay, seven,” I said. “And let’s go before I decide to get doughnuts.”

Jannie turned, started to move, and became someone else. It was a very strange thing, I thought as she started to lope down the sidewalk with me puffing already. There was my daughter, Jannie, who had to struggle to sit still and succeed in school. And there was Jannie Cross, who ran so effortlessly.

She picked up her pace all the way to the end of the block and then glided back to me.

“Show-off,” I said.

“You’re breaking a sweat,” she said. “This is good.”

“How far are we going?” I asked.

“Three miles,” she said.

“Thank you for being merciful.”

“The idea is to make you want to show up again tomorrow.”

“Right,” I said without enthusiasm.

We ran past the Marine barracks and heard them doing PT. We ran past Chung Sun Chung’s convenience store, the best around. It was doing a brisk business, as usual. In the window, the Powerball sign said the pot was nearing fifty million dollars.

“Remind me to stop and get Nana Mama’s tickets on the way back,” I said.

“You ever won anything?”

“No.”

“Nana Mama?”

“Twice. Once ten thousand dollars and once twenty-five thousand.”

“When was that?”

“Before I went to college.”

“So a long time ago.”

“Paleolithic era,” I said.

“Must be why you run like a mastodon.”

She laughed and took off in a burst of speed, ran all the way to the end of the block, then jogged back to me again.

“Mastodon?” I said, trying to act offended.

“Saber-toothed tiger trying to get back in shape?”

“Much better.”

We ran on for several minutes before Jannie said, “So why were you and Bree fighting last night?”

“We weren’t fighting,” I said. “We were arguing.”

“Loud argument.”

“Passionate subject,” I said. “And Bree’s under a lot of pressure from the top brass to make something happen, something that shows the public that DC Metro is still on top of things.”

“Like what?” Jannie asked as we ran past the armory.

“Like clearing a major murder case. The Tommy McGrath murder case.”

“Are you close to making an arrest?”

“No, because the prime suspect shot himself yesterday.”

Jannie shook her head. “I don’t know how you deal with that kind of stuff.”

“Like anything, it takes practice.”

“So why did he shoot himself? Because you suspected him and he knew you were after him?”

“That’s what Bree thinks,” I said. “It’s also what Chief Michaels thinks.”

“But you don’t?”

I struggled with how much to tell her. “There are other explanations of why the suspect would want to commit suicide.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Oh.”

“And no more questions about that, okay?”

“Sure, Dad. I was just interested.”

“And I appreciate your interest in that and in getting me out of bed this morning.”

We ran to the National Arboretum, and on the way back, the running wasn’t half the torture I’d expected. When we passed Chung Sun Chung’s store, the line for lottery tickets was ten-deep, so I skipped it and we went home.

Nana Mama was up cooking scrambled eggs and bacon, and Ali was engrossed in Origins. I went upstairs; Bree was in the shower.

“Hey,” she said when I climbed in.

“Sorry we argued last night.”

Bree nodded, hugged me, and said, “I still think Howard did it, shot Tom, Edita, and then himself.”