Cross Country

You’re a well-known police officer. This Tiger, or whoever it is, wouldn’t want to take the risk unless he had to. I can’t imagine that he would. Unless you really pissed him off.”
    “You know it’s him, then?”
    “No, no, I don’t know for sure. It just makes sense. Ian agrees. So what do you know, Dr. Cross?”
    I looked at Flaherty, then back at Millard. “You’re not going to help me find my family, are you? You just want to pump me for information again?”
    Millard sighed, took a beat and then said, “Dr. Cross, regretfully, we think your family is dead.”
    I stood up much too quickly from my chair, almost tipping it over.
    “How can you say that? What do you know? What aren’t you telling me? Why would they call me all night if my family’s dead?”
    Millard stared into my eyes, then rose from his seat too. “You were advised not to get involved in this. I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll help if we possibly can.”
    Then he felt compelled to add, “We’re not the bad guys here, Detective. There is no big conspiracy at work.”
    If that was true, why did everybody have to keep saying it?

Chapter 135
    THOSE CIA BASTARDS!
Even though they had been a little more human this time, I knew they were hiding something.
    Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell them what Adanne had revealed after the slaughter of her family. The meeting had been typical of my experience with them over the years.
    And Flaherty? After the meeting, he had gone to Langley for a “previously scheduled series of meetings.” No way that was the whole truth, or anything close to it. At least I didn’t think so.
    That night, I went home to an empty house. I’d told Bree that it might be better if I was in the house alone. I was so desperate, I was ready to try anything now.
    Millard’s words kept coming back.
Dr. Cross, regretfully, we think your family is dead.
    I fixed a sandwich but only nibbled the corners away. Then I watched the news stations — CNN, CNBC, FOX — but there was almost nothing about the civil war in the Delta. Unbelievable. A Hollywood actress had killed herself in LA, and that was the big story; it was being covered on every station — almost as if they all had the same news source and used the same journalists.
    Finally, I switched the story about the dead actress off, and the silence wasn’t a good thing either. I was nearly overwhelmed by sadness and fear that I had lost Nana, Ali, and Jannie.
    For a long time I stayed in the kitchen, holding my head in my arms and hands. I remembered certain images, and feelings, and sensations from the past: Ali, just a little boy, and such a sweetheart; Jannie, still my “Velcro” girl, my living memory of her mother; Nana, who had saved me so many times since I’d come to DC at ten after both my parents had died.
    I didn’t see how I could continue to live without them. Could I?
    The phone began to ring again and I snatched up the receiver. I hoped it was the Tiger, wanting something, wanting me.
    But it wasn’t.
    “It’s Ian Flaherty. I just wanted to check on you. See if you’re all right. See if you remembered anything that could help.”
    “Help you?” I said in a tight voice. “My family’s been taken.
My family
. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
    “I think I do. We want to help you, Dr. Cross. Just tell us what you know.”
    “Or what, Flaherty? What else can they do to me?”
    “The proper question is . . . what can they do to your family?”
    Flaherty left me a number where I could reach him at any time of the day or night.
    At least the bastard was staying up late too.

Chapter 136
    THE SOUND OF a ringing telephone woke me from a shallow snooze on the living room couch. I picked the phone up, still half asleep, my extremities tingling.
    “Cross.”
    “Go to ya moto car now. We watchin’ ya house, Cross. Lights on upstairs and in di kitchen. You was sleepin’ in living room.”
    A male speaking. English with a pidgin accent. I’d heard a lot of it in the past few weeks, but I was particularly tuned into it now — every syllable.
    “Is my family all right?” I asked. “Where are they? Just tell me that.”
    “Bring your cell phone wit you. We have numba and we wan ya follow directions. And don’t call no one or your family dead. Go now, Cross. Listen up.”
    I was sitting up now, staring out the window in the living room, sliding my feet into my shoes.
    I didn’t see anyone outside. No cars or lights were visible