The Big Bad Wolf

last ice cream off her spoon. “That’s all I can say to you.”
    “You mean consistent. And dedicated. That’s getting harder to find. You like that Oreos and cream, don’t you?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you ought to catch up with the times, son. Duty isn’t everything anymore.”
    “I’m here for the kids. And even for you, old woman.”
    “Never said you weren’t. Well, not lately, anyway. How’s Jamilla?”
    “We’ve both been busy.”
    Nana nodded her head, up and down, up and down, like one of those dolls that people keep on the dashboards of their automobiles. Then she pushed herself up and started to gather the ice-cream dishes the kids had left around the porch.
    “I’ll get those,” I told her.
    “Kids should get them. They know better too.”
    “They take advantage when I’m around.”
    “Right. Because they know you feel guilty.”
    “For what?” I asked. “What did I do? What am I missing here?”
    “Now,
that
is the main question you have to answer, isn’t it? I’m going in to bed. Good-night, Alex. I love you. And I do like Oreos and cream.”
    Then she muttered, “Hopeless.”
    “Am not,” I said to her back.
    “Are too.” She spoke without turning. She
always
got the last word.
    I eventually moseyed up to my office in the attic and made a phone call I’d been dreading. But I’d made a promise.
    The phone rang and then I heard a man’s voice say, “Brendan Connolly.”
    “Hello, Judge Connolly, this is Alex Cross,” I said. I heard him sigh, but he said nothing, so I continued. “I don’t have any specific good news about Mrs. Connolly yet. We have over fifty agents active in the Atlanta area, though. I’m calling because I told you I’d keep in touch and to reassure you that we’re working.”
    Because I made a promise.

Chapter 34
    SOMETHING ABOUT THE ABDUCTIONS wasn’t tracking for me. The early kidnappings had been committed carefully, then suddenly the abductors began to get sloppy. The pattern was inconsistent. Why? What did it mean? What had changed? If I could figure that out, we might have a break.
    The next morning, I got to Quantico about five minutes before the director touched down in a big black Bell helicopter. The news that Burns was on the grounds circulated quickly. Maybe Monnie Donnelley was right about one thing, this
was
the Information Age, even inside the Bureau, even at Quantico.
    Burns had ordered an emergency meeting, and I was informed that I was to come. Maybe I was back on the case? The director acknowledged a couple of agents when he entered the conference room in the Admin. building. His eyes never made contact with mine, though, and once again I wondered what he was doing here. Did he have news for us? What kind of news would warrant a visit from him?
    He sat in the first row as the Behavioral Analysis Unit chief, Dr. Bill Thompson, walked to the front of the room. It was becoming clear that Burns was here as an observer. But why? What did he want to observe?
    An administrative assistant to Dr. Thompson passed out stapled documents. At the same time, the first slide of a PowerPoint presentation was projected on a wall screen. “There’s been another kidnapping,” Thompson announced to the group. “It occurred Saturday night in Newport, Rhode Island. There’s been a sea change here. The victim was
male.
To our knowledge, he’s the first male they’ve taken.”
    Dr. Thompson gave us the details, which were also projected on the wall screen. An honor student at Providence College, Benjamin Coffey, had been abducted from a bar called the Halyard in Newport. It appeared that the abductors were both males.
    A team.
    And they had been spotted again.
    “Anyone?” asked Thompson, once he had given us the basics. “Reactions? Comments? Don’t be shy. We need input. We’re nowhere on this.”
    “Pattern’s definitely different,” an analyst volunteered. “Abduction at a bar. Male taken.”
    “How can we be so sure of that at this point?” Burns asked from the front of the room. “What
is
the pattern here?”
    Burns’s questions were met with silence. Like most chief executives, he had no idea of his own power. He turned and looked around at the group. His eyes finally settled on mine. “Alex? What
is
the pattern?” he asked. “You have any ideas?”
    The other agents were watching me. “Are we certain it was two males at the bar?” I asked. “That’s the first question I have.”
    Burns nodded in