I was just going through the motions all day. I kept seeing the poisoned woman. The Mastermind had wanted her to have his baby. That probably meant that he didn't have any kids of his own. He wanted an heir, a tiny piece of immortality.
Chapter Eighty-One
I returned to Washington on the last flight out that night. When I arrived home it was a few minutes past eleven. Bright light illuminated the kitchen windows. The upstairs was dark. The kids were probably asleep.
'I'm home,' I announced as I edged open the creaky kitchen door. It needed oil, I noticed. I was falling way behind on my home repairs again.
'You catch all the bad guys? 'Nana asked from her catbird seat at the table. A paperback book called The Color of Water was propped in front of her.
'We're moving in the right direction. The bad guy made a couple of mistakes finally. He's taking a lot of chances. I'm more hopeful than I was. You like the book?' I asked. I wanted to change the subject. I was home.
Nana pursed her lips, gave me a half-smile. 'I'm hopeful. The man can certainly write up a storm. Don't stray off my topic, though. Sit down and talk to me, Alex.'
'Can I stand and talk, and maybe put together a little supper for myself?'
Nana frowned, shook her head in disbelief. 'They didn't feed you on the airplane?'
'Dinner on the flight was honey-roasted peanuts and a small plastic cup of Coke. It fit with the rest of the day. This chicken and biscuits any good?'
Nana slanted her head to one side. She frowned at me from the sideways angle. 'No, it's spoiled. I put it away spoiled. What do you think, Alex? Of course it's good. It's a down-home culinary masterpiece.'
I stopped peering into the fridge and stared over at her. 'Excuse me. Are we having a fight?'
'Not at all. You'd know it if we were. How are you? I'm fine myself. You're working too hard again. But you seem to thrive on it. Still the Dragonslayer, right? Live by the sword and all that?'
I took the chicken out of the fridge. I was famished. Probably could have eaten it cold. 'Maybe this whacked- out case will be over soon.'
'Then there'll be another one and another one after that. I saw a pretty good saying the other day there's always room for improvement -then you die. What do you think of that one?'
I nodded and let out a deep sigh. 'You tired of being with a homicide detective, too? Can't say that I blame you.'
Nana crinkled up her face. 'No, not at all. Actually, I enjoy it. But I do understand why it might not be to everyone's liking.'
'I do, too, especially on days like today. I don't like what happened between Christine and me. I hate it, actually. Makes me sad. Hurts my heart. But I do understand what she was afraid of. It scares me too.'
Nana's head bobbed slowly. 'Even if it can't be Christine, you still need someone. So do Jannie and Damon. How about you get those priorities straight.'
'I spend a lot of time with the kids. But I'll work on it,' I said as I plopped the cold chicken and fixings in a pan.
'How can you, Alex? You're always working on murder cases. That seems to be your priority these days.'
Nana's statement hurt. Was it the truth? 'These days, there seem to be a lot of bad murder cases. I'll find someone. Has to be somebody out there will think I'm worth a little trouble.'
Nana cackled. 'Probably some serial killer. They sure seem attracted to you.'
I finally trudged up to bed around one o'clock. I was at the top of the stairs when the phone started to ring. Damn it! I cursed and hurried to my room. I picked up before it woke the whole house.
'Yeah?'
'Sorry. 'I heard a whispering voice. 'I'm sorry, Alex.'
It was Betsey.
I was glad to hear her voice anyway. 'It's all right. What's up,' I asked.
'Alex, we have a break in the case. It's good news. Something just happened. A fifteen-year-old girl in Brooklyn made a claim on the
9m insurance-company reward! This is being taken very seriously in New York. The girl says her father was one of the men involved in the Metro Hartford job. She knows the others involved too. Alex, they're New York police detectives. The Mastermind is a cop.'
Chapter Eighty-Two
The Mastermind is a cop. If it was true, it made sense out of a whole lot of things. It partly explained how he'd known so much about bank security, and about us.
At five-fifteen in the morning, I met Betsey Cavalierre and four other FBI agents at Boiling Field. A helicopter was waiting for us. We took off into a thick, gray soup that made the ground disappear seconds after we were airborne.
We were pumped up and extremely curious. Betsey sat in the first row with one of her senior agents, Michael Doud. She was wearing a light gray suit with a white blouse, and she looked serious and official again. Agent Doud
