Pop Goes the Weasel

said, and laughed again. Handsome as sin . She got that one from Nana, no doubt.
    Damon mimicked his sister. “You look beautiful, Daddy. What a little brownnoser. What do you want from Daddy, Jannie?”
    “Do I look good?” I turned to Damon.
    He rolled his eyes. “You look all right. How come you’re all duded up? You can tell me. Man to man. What’s the big deal?”
    “Answer the poor children!” Nana finally said.
    I looked her way and offered up a wide grin. “Don’t use the ‘poor children’ to try to get your gossip quotient for the day. Well, I’m off,” I announced. “I’ll be home before sunrise. Mooha-ha-ha .” I did my favorite monster imitation, and all three of them rolled their eyes.
    It was a minute or so before eight, and as I stepped onto the porch, a black Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front of the house. It was right on time, and I didn’t want to be late.
    “A limousine?” Jannie gasped, and nearly swooned on the front porch. “You’re going out in a limousine? ”
    “Alex Cross!” Nana said. “What is going on?”
    I practically danced down the steps. I got into the waiting car, shut the door, told the driver to go. I waved out the back window and stuck out my tongue as the car smoothly pulled away from our house.

Chapter 19
    MY LAST IMAGE was of the three of them — Jannie, Damon, and Nana — all mugging and sticking out their tongues at me. We do have some fabulously good times together, I was thinking as the car headed over to Prince Georges County, where I had once confronted a homicidal twelve-year-old during the halcyon days of the Jack and Jill killers, and where Christine Johnson lived.
    I had my mantra all set for tonight: Heart leads head . I needed to believe that was so.
    “A private car? A limousine?” Christine exclaimed when I picked her up at her house in Mitchellville.
    She looked as stunningly beautiful as I’ve ever seen her, and that’s saying a lot. She wore a long, sleeveless black shift, black satin pumps with straps, and had a floral brocade jacket draped over her arm. The heels made her a little over six feet tall. God, how I loved this woman, everything about her.
    We walked to the car and got inside.
    “You haven’t told me where we’re going tonight, Alex. Just that it was fancy. Someplace special.”
    “Ah, but I’ve told our driver,” I said. I tapped the partition window, and the Town Car moved off into the summer night. Alex the mysterious.
    I held Christine’s hands as we drove along on the John Hanson Highway, back toward Washington. Her face tilted toward mine, and I kissed her in the cozy darkness. I loved the sweetness of her mouth, her lips, the softness and smoothness of her skin. She was wearing a new perfume that I didn’t recognize, and I liked that, too. I kissed the hollow of her throat, then her cheeks, her eyes, her hair. I would have been happy to do just this for the rest of the night.
    “It is unbelievably romantic,” she finally said. “It is special. You are something else … sugar .”
    We cuddled and hugged all the way into Washington. We talked, but I don’t remember the subject. I could feel her breasts rising and falling against me. I was surprised when we arrived at the intersection of Massachusetts and Wisconsin avenues. We were getting close to the surprise.
    True to her word, Christine hadn’t asked any more questions. Not until the car eased up in front of Washington National Cathedral, and the driver got out and held the door open for us.
    “The National Cathedral?” she said. “We’re going in here?”
    I nodded and stared up at the stunning Gothic masterpiece that I’d admired since I was a boy. The cathedral crowns over fifty acres of lawns and woods and is Washington’s highest point, even higher than the Washington Monument. If I remembered correctly, it was the second-largest church in the United States, and possibly the prettiest.
    I led the way, and Christine followed me inside. She held my hand lightly. We entered the northwest corner of the nave, which extends nearly a tenth of a mile to the massive altar.
    Everything felt special and very beautiful, spiritual, just right. We walked up to a pew under the amazing Space Window at midnave. Everywhere I looked there were priceless stained-glass windows, over two hundred in all.
    The light inside was exquisite; I felt blessed. There was a kaleidoscope of changing colors on the walls: reds, warm yellows, cool