James Patterson - Kill Alex Cross

“Before that, you were using the phone from Emma Allison’s locker to send Zoe Coyle a text. One that would get her down into that tunnel just after homeroom,” I went on. “I guess the only thing I’m wondering is whether you planned for Ethan to be there, too, or if you had to improvise.”

Glass actually grinned and looked around at everyone else in the room. There were five of us, including two of Lindley’s agents, recording the interview with a camera and a laptop.

“Why do I feel like I’m being set up here?” he said right into the camera.

Lindley put down his pen and closed the file in front of him as if we were just getting started.

“Mr. Glass, was there some sort of incident, between you and your ex-wife in March of 2007?” he asked.

Glass did an exaggerated double take, looking back and forth between Lindley and me. “I’m getting whiplash in here. What are you talking about? I’m lost.”

“She says you drugged her and held her hostage for three days, shortly after the death of your son.”

“ What? ” His face dropped. For the first time, he actually seemed surprised. “So this is how you want to play it? The dead-kid card? Are you joking?”

I stood up. I couldn’t sit still for this anymore. “Do we look like we’re joking?” I said.

Lindley went on in the same monotone. He stayed in his seat. “Would you be willing to show us where you took her?” he asked.

“ I can’t! ” Glass shouted at him. “I can’t — because it never happened! Did you even bother to check Molly’s medical records? She had a complete breakdown after Zach died. I’m talking clinical. So if she thinks I held her hostage, or whatever, that’s her problem, not mine.”

“You know, your compassion’s a little underwhelming,” I said.

“Yeah, so’s your police work,” he shot back. “Jesus. If Ethan and Zoe do wind up dead, at least we’ll all know whose fault it is.”

That was it. I snapped. The next thing I knew, I was halfway across the table with two handfuls of Glass’s shirt.

“Where are they?” I yelled.

“Alex!”

“ Where are they? ”

It was a moment of pure adrenaline. If I could have split open his head for the information, I might have done it.

“Get him out of here!” Lindley shouted behind me.

“This isn’t going to bring back your son!” I told him. “Give it up, Glass — for God’s sake! Don’t let those kids die!”

I was still yelling as they pulled me out into the hall. The last thing I saw before they closed the door was Rodney Glass, raising a hand my way to wave good-bye.

Jesus. What had I just done? He’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted, hadn’t he?

I’d risen to the bait.

I was crouched down in the hall, trying to regroup, still angry but also embarrassed about what had happened with Glass, when I realized someone was standing over me.

“Take a walk?”

I looked up from a pair of black steel-toed boots to see Ned Mahoney, holding out a hand.

“How’d you know I was here?” I said.

“After that little scene? I think everyone knows you’re here,” Ned said. Several other people had stopped and were still staring. “Come on. Let’s go breathe some air.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I told him.

“That’s true,” he said, and headed up the hall. So I stood and followed.

We wound our way down to the ground floor of Liberty Crossing and out through the west lobby. The whole place is a huge X-shaped complex, with one of those sterile concrete plazas in the crook of the two main wings. We stopped there and took a seat on one of several empty benches overlooking the parking area down below.

The dropping temperature outside didn’t do much to cool me off while I told Ned what had happened. In fact, talking about it only made me feel worse.

“I screwed up, Ned. Glass is probably going to be home in his own bed tonight, while Ethan and Zoe...” I shook my head. I couldn’t even finish.

“That would have happened whether you went off the deep end with him or not,” Ned told me. “You said so yourself. He’s too clean, too smart.”

“Clean as dirt,” I said. “Goddamnit. But I know we can get him.”

Mahoney was uncharacteristically slow to respond. Usually his brain has a direct line to his mouth. Then finally he said, “You’re sure Glass is the one?”

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

“And you can’t prove it?”

“I can prove it,” I said. “Just not fast enough.”

“So maybe it’s time to think about some alternatives,” he said.

I felt a chill down my back, and not because of the stiff breeze blowing up from the parking lot. I let Ned go on.

“Listen, I’m a company man when I need to be one,” he said. “If the system didn’t work at least some of the time, I couldn’t do this for a living. But guess what, Alex? It’s not working. Not on this one. It’s not even coming close to working.”

“Hard to disagree. Glass is unusual, smarter than most.”

I couldn’t get Ned to look at me. He just stared down at the pebbled concrete between his feet while he talked. This was Langley, after all. You never knew which bush had eyes, or which bench had ears.

“Ned, you’re talking about—”

“I’m not talking about anything,” he said. “But if I were, I’d tell you that I could pretty easily put my hands on some things you might need. Also, that I wouldn’t leave you hanging on this, if you’re interested.”

I wanted to say, interested in what? But I was sure I already knew. Before I could say anything else, Ned got to his feet.

“Go home, Alex. You’ve got my number if you want to... you know. Talk.”

“Talk,” I said. “Right. I do have your number.”

He hunched his shoulders against the wind and blew into his hands. “Should have worn a jacket out here,” he said. “Cold as hell.”

Then he turned and walked away.

Cold as hell for sure.

Record .

“After I left Cross, I was almost overwhelmed by my own emotion. I’d done it, I’d won. I’d beaten all of them and I was still winning every single battle. Every one.

“And yet I felt a subtle change in myself. Was I so filled with guilt... that I was someone different now? Why hadn’t I struck out at Cross?

“The honest truth: I wasn’t as impressed by him as I thought I might be. But was he playing me? Setting me up for the kill? He was certainly physically imposing, and smart, I suppose. He’s definitely passionate about what he’s doing.

“But I don’t believe he’s going to catch me, to stop me, to put me away for what I’ve done, the awful things.

“I’m not afraid of Cross.

“But that’s not what my feelings are about. This isn’t about the detective; it’s about me. I know that to be perfectly safe I should do nothing about him. I’m clever enough to figure out something deadly. I’m good enough to execute it, and get away with it.

“So why haven’t I acted? What’s stopping me? Is it guilt? Remorse over what I’ve done to the children? Maybe something got to me — something about Cross’s kids, or his wife, or Cross himself? His passion is inspiring.

“Or is it this: I know I can’t stop myself and I want Cross to do it for me?

“No. I don’t think so. I don’t believe I want to be stopped. I’ve won... and I rather like that.”

When I got home that night, I could hear the kids going at it down in the basement. Ever since Ava had come to stay with us, the three of them were getting on like a house on fire, and they’d turned the downstairs into their own makeshift all-in-one clubhouse, boxing gym, and movie theater.