Nana sighed heavily. “They were brave soldiers, but Jannie cried herself to sleep tonight. I think Damon did, too. He hides it better. Poor things, they just moped around most of the night.”
We sat together on the sofa for a long, silent moment. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here today,” I finally told Nana. “I know that doesn’t mean much.”
She took my chin in her hand and stared into my eyes. Here it comes. Batten down the hatches.
“You’re a good man, Alex. And you’re a good father. Don’t you forget that, especially now. You just . . . you have a very difficult job.”
A few minutes later, I slipped into the room where Jannie and Damon were sleeping. The way they lay on the covers, they looked like little kids again. I liked the visual effect, and I stood there, just watching them. Nothing ever healed me the way these two did. My babies, no matter how old you are.
Jannie slept at the edge of her bed with the comforter in a wad off to the side. I went over and covered her up.
“Dad?” Damon’s whisper from behind caught me off guard. “That you?”
“What’s up, Day?” I sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed his back. I’d been doing it since he was an infant, and wouldn’t stop until he made me.
“You have to work tomorrow?” he asked. “Is it tomorrow already?”
There was no malice in his voice. He was too good a person for that. If I was a pretty good father, Damon was a great son.
“No,” I told him. “Not tomorrow. We’re on vacation, remember?”
Chapter 21
FOR THE SECOND DAY in a row, I got a disturbing wake-up call.
This one was from Fred Van Allsburg, the assistant director in charge of the FBI’s Los Angeles office. I had seen the name on organizational charts, but we’d never actually met or even spoken. Still, he treated me with a kind of instant familiarity over the phone.
“Alex! How are you enjoying the vacation?” he asked within seconds of saying hello.
Did everyone know my business? “Fine, thanks,” I answered. “What can I do for you?”
“Listen, thanks very much for making yourself available on Mary Smith yesterday. We’ve got a good jump on this case, and what feels like a relatively functional relationship with LAPD.
“Listen, I’ll cut right to the chase. We’d like you to represent us for the rest of the investigation out here. It’s big, and it’s important to us. And, obviously, to the director. This case is going to be huge, unfortunately.”
I thought of a line from The Godfather: Part III—“just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”
Not this time, though. I hadn’t slept much, but I did wake with a clear sense of what this day was going to be about—and it had absolutely nothing to do with Mary Smith, or any other heinous murder investigation.
“I’m going to have to give my regrets on this one. I’ve got family commitments that I cannot turn my back on.”
“Yes, I understand,” he said, too quickly to have meant it. “But maybe we could pry you away for just a while. A few hours in the day.”
“I’m sorry, you can’t. Not right now.”
Van Allsburg sighed heavily on the other end of the line. When he spoke again, his tone was more measured. I don’t know if I was reading him right, but I got a hint of condescension, too. “Do you know what we’re dealing with here? Alex, have you seen the news this morning?”
“I’m trying to stay away from the news for a few days. Remember, I’m on vacation. I need a vacation. I just came off the Wolf.”
“Alex, listen, we both know this isn’t over. People are dying here. Important people.”
Important people? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Also, I’m not sure if he was conscious of it, but he seemed to start every other sentence with my name. I sort of understood the position he was in, the pressure, but I was going to hold firm this time.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “The answer is no.”
“Alex, I’d prefer to keep this between you and me. There’s no reason to go up to Ron Burns, is there?”