Pop Goes the Weasel

YOU. EVERYTHING IS IN THE SPIRIT OF THE GAME. NO UNNECESSARY RISKS WILL BE TAKEN.
    LET’S PLAY THE GAME AS IF OUR LIVES DEPENDED ON IT.
    PERHAPS MINE ALREADY DOES?
    AS I TOLD YOU, WE HAVE TWO NEW PLAYERS. THEY ARE WASHINGTON DETECTIVES NAMED ALEX CROSS AND JOHN SAMPSON. WORTHY OPPONENTS. I’M WATCHING THEM, BUT I CAN’T HELP WONDERING WHETHER SOON THEY’LL BE WATCHING ME.
    LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT A FANTASY SCENARIO THAT I’VE CREATED TO WELCOME THEM TO OUR GAME. I’M SENDING PICTURES NOW — DETECTIVES CROSS AND SAMPSON.

Chapter 44
    IT TOOK US A DAY to get organized for our trip, but everybody seemed to enjoy the spontaneity, and also the special treat of our all being together on a vacation for the first time. And so Damon, Jannie, Nana, Christine, and I left D.C. in the afternoon and arrived in high spirits at Bermuda International Airport late on Thursday evening, the twenty-fifth of August.
    I definitely wanted to be out of Washington for a few days. The Mr. Smith murder case had been followed too quickly by the Jane Doe investigation. I needed a rest. I had a friend who was part owner of a hotel in Bermuda, and it wasn’t a particularly long airplane ride. It was perfect for us.
    One scene from the airport will always stick in my mind — Christine’s singing “Ja-da, ja-da,” with Jannie stuck at her side. I couldn’t help thinking that they looked like mother and daughter, and that touched me deeply. They were so affectionate and playful, so natural. It was a mind-photo for me to have and to hold, one of those moments that I knew I’d never forget, even as I watched the two of them dancing and singing as if they’d known each other forever.
    We were blessed with extraordinarily good weather for our holiday. It was sunny and blue-skied every day, morning until nightfall, when the sky turned a magical combination of reds, oranges, and purples. The days belonged to all of us, but especially to the kids. We went swimming and snorkeling at Elbow Beach and Horseshoe Bay, and then raced mopeds along the picturesque Middle and Harbour roads.
    The nights belonged to Christine and me, and we made the most of them. We hit all the best spots: the Terrace Bar at the Palm Reef, the Gazebo Lounge at the Princess, the Clay House Inn, Once Upon a Table in Hamilton, Horizons in Paget. I loved being with her, and that thought kept drifting through my mind. I felt that what we shared had been strengthened because I had backed off and given her time and space. And I felt whole again. I kept remembering the very first time I had seen her in the schoolyard at Sojourner Truth. She’s the one, Alex . That thought still played in my head, too.
    We sat at the Terrace Bar overlooking the city and harbor of Hamilton. The water was dotted with small islands, white sails, ferries going back and forth to Warwick and Paget. We held hands, and I couldn’t stop staring into her eyes, didn’t want to.
    “Big thoughts?” she finally asked.
    “I’ve been thinking a lot about going into private practice again,” I told her. “I think it might be the best thing to do.”
    She stared into my eyes. “I don’t want you to do it for me, Alex. Please don’t make me the cause of your leaving your job with the police. I know you love it. Most days you do.”
    “The Job has been tearing at me lately. Pittman isn’t just a difficult boss; I think he’s a bad guy. What happened to Sampson and the others is just bullshit. They were working unsolved cases on their own time. I’m tempted to give the story to Zach Taylor at the Post . People would riot if they knew the truth. Which is why I won’t give it to the Post .”
    She listened and tried to help but she didn’t push, and I appreciated that. “It does sound like a terrible, complicated, nasty mess, Alex. I’d like to punch out Pittman, too. He’s choosing politics over protecting people. I’m sure you’ll know what to do when the time is right.”
    The next morning, I found her walking in the garden, with tropical flowers strewn in her hair. She looked radiant, even more than usual, and I fell in love all over again.
    “There’s an old saying I’ve been hearing since I was a little girl,” she told me as I joined her. “If you have only two pennies, buy a loaf of bread with one and a lily with the other.”
    I kissed her hair, in between the flowers. I kissed her sweet lips, her cheeks, the hollow in her throat.
    The kids and I went back to Horseshoe Bay Beach early