The People vs. Alex Cross (Alex Cross #25)(31)

My grandmother, dressed in her quilted blue robe, still had her back to us and was whipping the eggs furiously. Bree shaped an O with her lips and tried not to smile.

“Nana,” I said, “what was Ali supposed to do? Let himself be choked to death?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said sharply, and she turned to face me. “I’m just concerned for your son’s reputation, which takes a long time to build.”

Hearing echoes of similar things she’d said to me over the years, I said, “Yes, ma’am. That’s a fact.”

“Long as it takes to build, a reputation can die in two seconds, Alex,” she said, and she made a shh sound of disgust.

“I know that, and honestly, Nana, I think Ali did the right thing, considering the circumstances, and he’s getting punished for it, so he’s learning the world can be unfair sometimes.”

“I agree,” Bree said. “In a lot of ways, Ali’s reputation will only be stronger after this. I mean, he’s nine years old, and he stood up to bullies who were twelve. Be proud of him, Nana. He did good even if it meant getting suspended.”

My grandmother looked perplexed. I got up and hugged her. “Sometimes you have to break the rules. Sometimes you have to protect yourself.”

Nana Mama held herself rigid at first, but then she melted and hugged me back. “You know I don’t like fighting.”

“I do.”

“Where’d he learn to fight like that?”

“He says from YouTube videos on Krav Maga, the Israeli fighting system.”

“Maybe his time on the Internet should be limited?”

“I agree,” I said and kissed her sweet old head.

My cell phone rang. I let go of my grandmother and answered. “Alex Cross.”

“Bernie Aaliyah, Dr. Cross,” he said gruffly. “It’s Tess. She’s barricaded herself in her bedroom. She’s got a gun, and I’m afraid she’s going to kill herself if you don’t come talk to her.”





CHAPTER


39


SUSPENDED DC METRO Detective Tess Aaliyah lived in a duplex row-house walk-up near downtown on a street heading from renovation toward gentrification. Dumpsters squatted in front of three or four other row houses on the block; hammers and saws popped and whined inside them.

A circular saw squealed nearby, masking the sound of me climbing up to Tess’s front porch. Her father opened the door before I could ring the bell, and he limped out to shake my hand. Bernie Aaliyah was pale, and his face was scratched and bruised. I could see everything from fright to anger in his eyes.

“I told you I’d get Tess the help she needed, Dr. Cross,” Bernie said in a low, agitated voice. “And I tried in the best way I knew how. But she got real defensive when I suggested the evaluation. When I told her it was for her own good, just to know what’s what, she went out of her mind. She attacked me, scratched me, and hit me with something that knocked me on my ass.”

He shook his head in disbelief and sorrow. “Tess was always like her mother, always levelheaded, even as a little girl.”

“She’s still your little girl,” I said. “But she’s been wounded.”

“Talk to her. Make her see it wasn’t her fault.”

Feeling his desperation, I took a deep breath and said, “I can try. Where’s her bedroom?”

“Top of the stairs, to the right.”

“The gun?”

“Her backup. She surrendered her service pistol.”

“You know what prescriptions she’s taking?”

“What isn’t she taking? The kitchen counter’s covered with them.”

“Then I want to take a look there first.”

He led me inside, past a steep staircase and into a small modern kitchen. The counter held a blooming array of prescription drugs.

I picked up the canisters one by one and studied them. Some names I recognized. I got out my smartphone and typed names of the medicines I didn’t know into Drugs.com. I scanned all the drugs’ therapeutic effects, scribbled a few notes, and then used the site to look for possible interactions.

When I finished, I was upset, and I whispered, “Bernie? Is Tess taking all of these? Or just some?”

“She won’t tell me, and I can’t get her damn doctors on the phone.”

I grabbed the bottles and looked for the prescribers’ names. In all, five physicians had prescribed twelve different meds for Tess Aaliyah in the past six weeks.

Her father said, “What do you think?”

“If she’s taking half these drugs at the same time, it’s a wonder she hasn’t been committed for psychotic behavior already.”

“Jesus H. Christ.” Bernie moaned. “I knew it. I told my girlfriend something was wrong. But, Jesus, I … I just didn’t push it.”

“Tess is a grown woman,” I said, and I patted him on the arm. “You coming? She’ll want you at some point, but please don’t say anything unless I give you the nod. Okay?”

He didn’t like that. “I’ve done my share of talking people off ledges.”

“I bet you have, Bernie. But it’s like a surgeon operating on a close relative or a man acting as his own lawyer in court. Never a good move.”