London Bridges

army vehicles or discovered where they had come from. What had happened in Sunrise Valley still didn’t make sense. Neither did Colonel Geoffrey Shafer’s being there. But it sure shook us up.
    No one had even taken credit for the bombing yet.
    After two days, there wasn’t too much more I could do out in the desert, so I caught a ride home to Washington. I found Nana, the kids, even Rosie the cat out on the front porch, waiting for me.
    Home, sweet home again. Why didn’t I just learn a lesson and stay there?
    “This is real nice,” I said, beaming as I bounded up the steps. “A welcoming committee. I guess everybody missed me, right? How long you been out here waiting for your pops?”
    Nana and the kids shook their heads pretty much in unison, and I smelled conspiracy.
    Nana said, “Of course we’re glad to see you, Alex,” and finally cracked a smile. They all did.
Conspiracy, for sure.
    “Gotcha!” said Jannie, who was ten. She had on a crocheted sun hat with her braids hanging out. “Of course we’re your welcoming committee. Of course we missed you, Daddy. Who wouldn’t?”
    “Got you bad!” Damon taunted from his perch on the rail. He was twelve and looked the part. Sean John T-shirt, straight-leg jeans, Hiptowns.
    I pointed a finger at him. “I’ll get
you,
you break my porch rail.” Then I smiled. “Gotcha!” I said to Damon.
    After that, I had to answer all sorts of questions about little Alex and show around my digital camera with dozens of pictures of our beloved little man.
    Everybody was pretty much laughing now, which was better, and it was definitely good to be home again, even if I was still waiting for more news about the bombing in Nevada and about Shafer’s involvement.
    Nana had held dinner for me, and after a delicious meal of roast chicken with garlic and lemon, squash, mushrooms, and onions, the family congregated in the kitchen over cleanup and bowls of ice cream. Jannie showed off a pen-and-ink of her heroes Venus and Serena Williams, which was sensational; eventually, we watched the Washington Wizards on TV. Finally, everybody started to wander off to bed, but there were hugs and kisses first. Nice, very nice. Much, much better than yesterday and, I was willing to bet, not as good as tomorrow.

Chapter 17
    ABOUT ELEVEN, I finally climbed the steep stairs to my office in the attic. I reviewed my case file on Sunrise Valley for twenty minutes or so in preparation for the next day, then I called Jamilla in San Francisco. I’d talked to her a couple of times over the past two days, but I’d mostly been too busy. I figured she might be home from work by now.
    All I got was a voice message, though.
    I don’t like to leave messages myself, especially since I’d already left a couple from Nevada, but I finally said, “Hi, it’s Alex. I’m still trying to sell you on the idea of forgiving me for what happened at the airport in San Francisco. If you want to come East sometime soon, I’m buying the plane ticket. Talk to you soon. I miss you, Jam. Bye.”
    I hung up the phone, then let out the sigh I’d been holding in. I was blowing it again, wasn’t I?
Hell, yes,
I was. Why would I do such a thing?
    I went downstairs and ate a double-size piece of corn bread that Nana had made for the next day. It didn’t help, just made me feel even worse, guilty about my eating habits. I sat on a kitchen chair with Rosie the cat in my lap, stroking her.
    “You like me, right? Don’t you, Rosie? I’m kind of a nice guy?”
    The phone calls weren’t over for the night. Just past midnight I received a call from one of the agents I’d worked with out in Nevada. Fred Wade had something he thought I might find interesting. “We just got this from Fallon,” he told me. “Receptionist in a Best Inn there was raped and murdered two nights ago. Her body was left in the brush near the motel parking lot. Like we were supposed to find it. We got a description of a guest who could be your Colonel Shafer. Needless to say, he’s long gone from Fallon.”
    Your Colonel Shafer.
That said it all, didn’t it?
He’s long gone from Fallon.
Of course he was.

Chapter 18
    I DIDN’T SLEEP much that night. I think I had awful nightmares about the Weasel. And about the holocaust in Sunrise Valley, Nevada.
    Early the next morning I had to sign permission slips so the kids could go on a field trip to the National Aquarium in Baltimore. I signed the slips at four-thirty before they were up and