I, Alex Cross Chapters Four & Five

Hi everyone,

I'm late, I know! Forgive me. I got sick (but I'm all better now) and couldn't send out the chapter last Friday. Anyway, I'm going to make it up to you.

TWO MORE CHAPTERS are posted below.

Happy hump day everyone!

LB

Out 11/16/09!

Previously Posted Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three

Part One
FIRESTORM

Chapter One, Part One (or Ch. 4)

I CELEBRATED MY birthday with a small, very exclusive,
very festive and fun party on Fifth Street. It was just the
way I wanted it.

Damon had come home from boarding school in Massachusetts
as a special surprise. Nana was there, acting large
and in charge of the festivities, along with my babies, Jannie
and Ali. Sampson and his family were on hand; and of
course Bree was there.

Only the people I loved most in the world were invited.
Who else would you want to celebrate another year older
and wiser with?

I even made a little speech that night, most of which I
forgot immediately, but not the opening few words. “I, Alex
Cross,” I began, “do solemnly promise — to all those present
at this birthday party — to do my best to balance my life
at home with my work life, and not to go over to the dark
side ever again.”

Nana raised her coffee cup in salute, but then she said,
“Too late for that,” which got a laugh.

Then, to a person, everybody did their best to make sure
I was aging with a little humility but also a smile on my
face.

“Remember the time at Redskin stadium?” Damon cackled.
“When dad locked the keys in the old car?”
I tried cutting in. “To be fair —”

“Called me out of bed past midnight,” Sampson said,
and growled.

“Only after he tried breaking in for an hour because he
didn’t want to admit he couldn’t do it,” Nana said.

Jannie cupped a hand around her ear. “’Cause he’s
what?” And everyone chorused back, “America’s Sherlock
Holmes!” It was a reference to a national- magazine piece
from a few years ago that I will apparently never live down.

I swigged my beer. “Brilliant career — or so they say —
dozens of big cases solved, and what am I remembered for?
Seems to me, someone was supposed to have a happy birthday
tonight.”

“Which reminds me,” Nana said, somehow taking the
bait and cutting me off at the same time. “We’ve got a piece
of unfinished business here. Children?”

Jannie and Ali jumped up, more excited than anyone.
Apparently, there was a Big Surprise coming for me now.
No one was saying what it was, but I’d already opened a
pair of Serengetis from Bree, a loud shirt and two minis of
tequila from Sampson, and a stack of books from the kids
that included the latest George Pelecanos and a biography
of Keith Richards.

Another clue, if I can call it that, was the fact that Bree
and I had become notorious plan cancelers, with one long
weekend after another falling by the wayside since we’d
met. You might think that working in the same department,
same division — Homicide — would make it easier for us to
coordinate our schedules, but it was just the opposite most
of the time.

So I had some idea, but nothing really specifi c, about
what might be coming.

“Alex, you stay put,” said Ali. He’d started calling me
Alex lately, which I thought was all right but for some reason
gave Nana the creeps.

Bree said she’d keep an eye on me and stayed back while
everyone else snuck off to the kitchen.

“The plot thickens,” I muttered.

“Even as we speak,” said Bree with a smile and a wink.

“Just the way you like it.”

She was on the couch, across from where I sat in one of
the old club chairs. Bree always looked good, but I preferred
her like this, casual and comfortable in jeans and bare feet.
Her eyes started on the fl oor and worked their way up to
mine.

“Come here often?” she asked.

“Once in a while, yeah. You?”

She sipped her beer and casually cocked her head. “Want
to get out of here?”

“Sure thing.” I jerked my thumb toward the kitchen
door. “Just as soon as I get rid of those pesky, um —”

“Beloved family members?”
I couldn’t help thinking that this birthday was getting
better and better. Now I had two big surprises coming up.

Make that three.

The phone rang in the hall. It was our home line, not
my cell, which everyone knew to use for work. I also had a
pager up on the dresser where I could hear it. So it seemed
safe to go ahead and answer. I even thought it might be
some friendly soul calling to wish me a happy birthday, or
at the very worst, someone trying to sell me a satellite dish.

Will I ever learn? Probably not in this lifetime.

Chapter Two(or Ch. 5)

“ALEX, IT’S DAVIES. I’m sorry to bother you at home.”
Ramon Davies was superintendent of detectives with Metro,
and also my boss, and he was on the line.

“It’s my birthday. Who died?” I asked. I was ticked off,
mostly at myself for answering the phone in the first place.

“Caroline Cross,” he said, and my heart nearly stopped.
At that very moment, the kitchen door swung open and
the family came out singing. Nana had an elaborate pinkand-
red birthday cake on a tray, with an American Airlines
travel folio clipped on top.

“Happy Birthday to you . . .”

Bree held up a hand to quiet them. My posture and
my face must have said something. They all stopped right
where they were. The joyful singing ended almost midnote.
My family remembered whose birthday this was:Detective
Alex Cross’s.

Caroline was my niece, my brother’s only daughter. I
hadn’t seen her in twenty years; not since just after Blake
died. That would have made her twenty- four now.

At the time of her death.

The fl oor under my feet felt like it was gone. Part of me
wanted to call Davies a liar. The other part, the cop, spoke
up. “Where is she now?”

“I just got off the phone with Virginia State Police. The
remains are at the ME’s office in Richmond. I’m sorry, Alex.

I hate to be the one to tell you this.”

“Remains?” I muttered. It was such a cold word, but I
appreciated Davies not over- handling me. I walked out of the
room, sorry I’d said even that much in front of my family.

“Are we talking homicide here? I assume that we are.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“What happened?” My heart was thudding dangerously.

I almost didn’t want to know.

“I don’t have a lot of details,” he told me, in a way that
instantly gave me a hint — he was holding something back.

“Ramon, what’s going on here? Tell me. What do you
know about Caroline?”

“Just take one thing at a time, Alex. If you leave now,
you can probably be there in about two hours. I’ll ask for
one of the responding officers to meet you.”

“I’m on my way.”

“And Alex?”

I’d almost hung up the phone, my mind in splinters.

“What is it?”

“I don’t think you should go alone.”