Deadly Cross (Alex Cross #28)(22)

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” she said, growing agitated and shrinking away when Sampson came around and opened her door.

“You don’t know, Elaine,” I said, gazing into her eyes. “You have to trust me. Like I said on the beach, I’m just trying to get you back to your daughters.” That got her more wound up. “Where are they? Can I see them?”

“In a few days, I’m sure,” I said.

Elaine looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. “I want to see them now.”

“I know you do. But unless you cooperate here, it could be weeks before you do.”

She got out then. We delivered her to the locked psych ward and left for our respective homes, all of us wondering about her guilt or innocence.

Bree wondered about it too as I ate leftovers and recounted my day.

“You said she was in and out of reality,” she said.

“That’s how it seemed to me,” I agreed. “Which can be caused by all sorts of traumatic states, including killing your cheating husband and his girlfriend.”

“The weapons test will tell us one way or the other.”

“No doubt,” I said, taking my dishes to the sink. “How’s Nana Mama?”

“Better. She slept a lot, woke up, ate a lot, then went back to sleep.”

After rinsing the dishes, I turned to find Bree about three feet away, studying me.

“Can you be honest with me about something?”

“Of course.”

“You knew Kay Willingham before you knew me.”

“Back when I was between the FBI and Metro, working freelance.”

“Was it professional or personal?”

“She was an acquaintance and almost a client. I drove her home the night we met at a fundraiser because her car service was late and she’d had too much to drink. I went inside her house.”

“You went in her house?”

“She’d broken her heel as well as having too much to drink. She was alone.”

“Alone?”

“And I wanted to make sure she was okay,” I said, deciding to leave out the Kay-twirling-away-from-me part of the story. “I made sure and left. Two months later, she tried to hire me to investigate an old capital crimes case in Alabama. I declined.”

“Why?”

“The kids needed me here,” I said. “Nana Mama needed me here. It was no time to be going to Alabama for a month to look into the case of a killer her husband had helped convict and put on death row.”

“Wait, what? J. Walter? How long ago was this case?”

“I can’t remember. Before they were married.”

“So you didn’t have an affair with Kay Willingham before we met?”

I laughed. “No affair. I promise you.”

Bree chewed on that for a moment, then gave me a grudging smile. “Want to go to bed? Snuggle a little?”

“I’d like that very much.”





CHAPTER 24





BREE AND I WERE STILL snuggled up together the next morning and in a deep sleep when my phone rang.

“Don’t answer it,” Bree grumbled, holding tight to my arm, which was wrapped around her waist. “I want to stay here, just us, just a little while longer.”

I ignored the ringing and hugged her tighter. The call went to voice mail, but ten seconds later my cell began to ring again.

Bree groaned.

“Life intervenes.” I moaned, kissed her on the cheek, and sat up. It was Sampson calling.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was only six fifteen. “Kind of early, partner,” I said.

I got no answer, just a choking sound.

“John?”

“I’m at the hospital,” he managed to say in a thick voice. “Billie died ten minutes ago.”

“What?” I said, feeling like I’d taken a bat to the gut. “No, John.”

My best friend began to sob. “There was nothing they could do. They tried everything but they couldn’t save her. She’s gone, Alex.”

Bree had heard the dismay in my voice and got up on her knees beside me. “What’s happened?”

I muted the phone, tears welling in my eyes. “Billie died ten minutes ago.”

The shock on her face was complete. She said nothing and started to weep.

I put the phone on speaker. John’s anguish filled the room along with our own.

“John, I’m so sorry,” Bree said. “My God, what happened?”

He sniffed and choked out, “The damage to her heart from Lyme disease. Her heart just gave out.”

“Where are you?” I said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m still with her,” he said. “Prince George’s Hospital ER.”

“Where’s Willow?”

“Asleep,” he said. “She doesn’t get up until seven. Please, Bree, can you go there? And can you not tell her?”

“I’m on my way,” Bree said, jumping out of bed.

“I am coming to you, brother,” I said, following her.

“Thank you, Alex. I don’t know where to go or what I’m supposed to do. About anything.”