Chapter Forty-One
Sampson and I stayed at the Mark later than we should have. We drank a lot of beer, and finally closed the place down at around two. We were smart and sane and sober enough to leave our cars in the parking lot instead of driving home. John and I walked home under a bright moonlit sky. It reminded me of the two of us growing up in Southeast. We had to walk just about everywhere we went. Maybe we'd take a city bus if we were feeling flush. He dropped me off at my house and continued toward the Navy Yard and his place. Early the next morning, I had to retrieve my car before I went to work. Nana was up with little Alex and I drank a half pot of her coffee, then put the boy in his stroller. He and I walked to my car. The morning was clear and bright and the neighborhood seemed peaceful and quiet at around seven o'clock. Nice. I've lived on Fifth Street for thirty years, ever since Nana moved there from her old place on New Jersey Avenue. I still love the neighborhood, and it is home for the Cross family. I don't know if I could ever leave. 'Daddy was with Uncle John last night,' I bent down and talked to the boy as I pushed his blue- and white-striped stroller along. A nice-looking woman passed us on her way to work. She smiled like I was the best man in the history of the world, because I was walking my child this early in the morning. I didn't believe it for a second, but I enjoyed the romanticized fantasy. Little Alex likes to watch passing people, cars, the clouds streaming above his little head. He loves rides in the stroller and I like
-------------- 117 --------------
JAAAES PATTERSON
pushing him, talking or singing kiddie ditties as we go about our business. 'See the wind blowing the tree leaves?'! said, and he looked up as if he understood every word. It's impossible to tell how much he understands, but he seems responsive to what I say. Damon and Jannie were the same way, though Jannie was constantly babbling as an infant. She still loves to talk, and to get in the last word, and the next to the last, just like her grandmother, and also, now that I remember, her mother, Maria. 'I need your help, buddy.' I stooped down and talked to little Alex again. He looked up at me, smiled beautifully. Sure, Daddy, you can count on me. 'It's your job to hold me together for a little while. You give me something precious to focus on. Can you do that?' Alex continued to smile. Of course I can, Daddy. It's no problem. Consider it done. I am your precious. Lean on me. 'Good boy, I knew I could count on you. Just keep doing what you're doing. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a while. I love you, little buddy.' As I was talking to my son, though, a little of the feelings of the night before rolled over me like some cold, wet fog coming up from the Anacostia River. Coincidences, I remembered. The bad things that had happened around me for the past two years. A real bad run. The murder of Betsey Cavalierre. The Mastermind. The vampire killers. I needed for it to let up some, needed to come up for air. When I got to headquarters that morning, a message was waiting for me. There had been another vampire murder. But the game had just changed, taken another turn. This one had taken place in Charleston, South Carolina. The killers were on the East Coast again.
118