Violets Are Blue (Alex Cross 7) - Page 16

I stared at the slowly revolving corpse, and I didn’t have any answers. None at all. I felt drained myself.

Chapter 23

IT WAS already Friday and we were in the middle of a nasty, sordid mess that wasn’t going to be over soon. In the afternoon I had to make a tough phone call home to Washington. Nana Mama answered after a couple of rings, and I immediately wished that one of the kids had picked up instead.

“It’s Alex. How are you?”

She said, “You’re not coming home for Damon’s concert tomorrow, are you, Alex? Or did you forget all about the concert already? Oh, Alex, Alex. Why have you forsaken us? This isn’t right.”

I love Nana tremendously, but sometimes she goes too far to make her point. “Why don’t you put Damon on the phone?” I said. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

“He’s not going to be a boy for very much longer. Pretty soon he’ll be just like you, won’t listen to a word anybody says. Then you’ll see what it’s like. I guarantee you won’t like it,” she said.

“I feel bad enough already, guilty enough. You don’t have to make it worse, old woman.”

“Of course I do. That’s my job, and I take it as seriously as you obviously take yours,” she said.

“Nana, people are dying out here. Someone died a horrible death in Washington to get me involved in this mess. It keeps happening. There’s a connection I have to find, or at least try to.”

“Yes, people are dying, Alex. I understand that. And other people are growing up without their father around as much as they need him to be—especially since they don’t have a mother. Are you aware of that? I can’t be mother and father to these children.”

I shut my eyes. “I hear what you’re saying. I don’t even disagree with you, believe it or not. Now, would you please put Damon on?” I asked again. “As soon as I get off t

he phone, I’ll go out and see if I can find a mother for my children. Actually, I’m working with a very nice female detective. You’d like her.”

“Damon’s not here. He said if you called and weren’t coming home to tell you thanks a lot.”

I shook my head and finally smiled in spite of myself. “You got his inflection down perfectly. Where is he?”

“He’s playing basketball with his friends. He’s very good at that too. I think he’ll be an outstanding two guard. Have you even noticed?”

“He has soft hands and a quick first step. Of course I’ve noticed. You know which friends he’s out with?”

“Of course I do. Do you?” Nana shot back. She was relentless when she was on the attack. “He’s with Louis and Jamal. He picks good friends.”

“I have to go now, Nana. Please give Damon and Jannie my love. Give little Alex a big hug.”

“Alex, you give them love and hugs yourself,” she said. Then she hung up on me. She had never done that before. Well, she hadn’t done it very often.

I sat there, pinned to my chair, thinking over what had just been said, wondering whether or not I was guilty as charged. I knew that I spent more time with the kids than a lot of fathers, but as Nana had so skillfully argued, they were growing up fast, and without a mother. I had to do an even better job, and there were no goddamn excuses.

I called home a few more times. There was no answer, and I figured I was being punished. I finally caught up with Damon around six that night. He had just gotten home from a rehearsal for his concert with the Boys’ Choir. I heard his voice come on the line, and I sang a little Tupac rap ditty he likes.

He thought that was funny, so I knew everything was okay. He had forgiven me. He’s a good boy, the best I could have hoped for. I suddenly remembered my wife, Maria, and was sad that she wasn’t here to see how well Damon was turning out. You would really like Damon, Maria. I’m sorry you’re missing it.

“I got your message. I’m sorry, Damon. I wish I were going to hear you tomorrow. You know I do. Can’t be helped, buddy.”

Damon sighed dramatically. “If wishes had wings,” he said. It was one of his grandmother’s pet sayings. I had been hearing it for years, ever since I was around his age.

“Beat me, whip me, beat me,” I told him.

“Naw. It’s all right, Daddy,” Damon said, and sighed again. “I know you have to work and that it’s probably important stuff. It’s just hard for us sometimes. You know how it is.”

“I love you, and I should be there, and I won’t miss the next concert,” I said to him.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Damon said.

“I’ll hold myself to it,” I told him.

Tags: James Patterson Alex Cross Mystery
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