Patterson, James - Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

As they walked north he told Mrs. Houston about his friend Ellis Cooper, and what had happened at Fort Bragg. He decided not to tell her about the other murders of military men.

“He must have been a very good friend, ”she said when Sampson had finished talking. “You're obviously not giving up easily.”

“I can't give up. He was one of the best friends I ever had. We spent three years in Vietnam together. He was the first older male in my life who wasn't just out for himself. You know, the father I never had.”

She nodded, but she didn't pry. Sampson liked that. He still couldn't get over how petite she was. He had the thought that he could have carried her around under his arm.

“The other thing is, Mrs. Houston, I am totally convinced that Ellis Cooper was innocent of those murders. Call it sixth sense, or whatever, but I'm sure of it. He told me so just before they executed him. I can't get past that. I just can't.”

She sighed, and he could see the pain in her face. He could tell she hadn't gotten over her husband's death and how it had happened, but she still hadn't intruded on his story. That was interesting. She was obviously very considerate.

He stopped walking, and so did she.

“What's the matter?” she finally asked.

“You don't talk about yourself easily, do you? ”he asked.

She laughed. “Oh, I do. When I get going, I do. Too much sometimes, believe me. But I was interested in what you had to say, how you would say it. Do you want me to tell you about my husband now? What happened to him? Why I'm sure he was innocent, too?”

“I want to hear everything about your husband,” Sampson said. “Please.”

“I believe Laurence was murdered,” she began. “He was killed by the state of New Jersey. But somebody else wanted him dead. I want to know who murdered my husband, as much as you want to know who killed your friend, Ellis Cooper.”

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Fifty-One

Sampson and Mrs. Billie Houston stopped and sat in the sand in front of a sprawling ocean house that must have at least a dozen bedrooms. It was empty now, boarded up and shuttered, and that seemed such a monumental waste to Sampson. He knew people in DC who lived in abandoned tenements with no windows and no heat and no running water.

He couldn't peel his eyes away. The house was three stories high with wraparound decks on the upper two. A large sign posted on the dune near the house read: These dunes are protected. Stay on walkway. $300 fine. These people were serious about their property, or its beauty, or both, he thought to himself.

Billie Houston stared out at the ocean as she began to speak.

“Let me tell you about the night the murder happened,” she said. “I was a nurse at the Community Medical Center in Tom's River. I got off my shift at eleven and arrived home at about half past. Laurence almost always waited up for me. Usually we'd catch up on each other's day. Sit on the couch. Maybe watch a little TV together, mostly comedies. He was a big man like you, and always said he could carry me around in his pocket.”

Sampson didn't interrupt, just listened to her story take shape.

"What I remember the most about that night was that it was so ordinary, Detective. Laurence was watching The Steve Harvey Show and I leaned in and gave him a kiss. He sat me on his lap and we talked for a while. Then I went in to change out of my work clothes.

"When I came out from the bedroom, I poured myself a glass of Cabernet, and asked him if he wanted me to make popcorn. He didn't. He'd been watching his weight, which sometimes ballooned in the winter. He was in a playful mood, jokey, very relaxed. He wasn't tense, wasn't stressed in any way. I'll never forget that.

"The doorbell rang while I was pouring my glass of wine. I was up anyway, so I went to get it. The military I police were there. They pushed past me into the house and arrested Laurence for committing a horrible murder that night, just a few hours earlier.

“I remember looking at my husband, and him looking at me. He shook his head in absolute amazement. No way he could have faked that look. Then he said to the police, ”You officers are making a mistake. I'm a sergeant in the United States Army“. That's when one of the cops knocked him down with his baton.”

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Fifty-Two

I was trying to forget that I was on a case. Carrying around a nasty straw doll and lidless evil eye. In pursuit of killers. Relentless as I had ever been.

I walked into the lobby of the Wyndham Buttes Resort in Tempe and there was Jamilla. She had flown east from San Francisco to meet me. That had been our plan.

She was wearing an orange silk blouse with a deeper orange sweater around her shoulders, slender gold bracelets and tiny earrings. She looked just right for the 'valley of the sun', which is what I'd heard the metropolitan area of Phoenix, Scottsdale, Mesa, Chandler and Tempe was called.

“I suspect you already know this,”I said as I walked over and gave her a big hug, 'but you look absolutely beautiful. Took my breath away."

“I did?” she asked, and seemed surprised. “That's a nice way to start our weekend.”

“And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Everybody in the lobby is checking you out.”

She laughed. “Now I know you're putting me on.”

Jamilla took my hand and we walked across the lobby. Suddenly, I stopped and spun her around into my arms. I looked at her face for a moment, then I gave her a kiss. It was long and sweet because I'd been saving it up on the drive over.

“You look pretty good yourself,” she said after the kiss. “You always look good. Tell you a secret. The first time I saw you in San Francisco Airport you took my breath away.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Well we better take this upstairs, get a room, before we get in trouble down here.”

Jamilla leaned in and gave me another quick kiss. “We could get in a whole lot of trouble. ”And then another kiss. “I don't do things like this, Alex. What's happening to me? What has come over me?”

One more hug and then we headed for the hotel elevators.

Our room was on the top floor with a view of the Phoenix skyline and a waterfall cascading into a mountainside swimming pool. In the distance, we could see jogging and hiking trails, tennis courts, and a golf course or two. I told Jamilla that a nearby football field we could see must be Sun Devil Stadium. “I think Arizona State plays there.”

“I want to know all about Tempe and Arizona State football,”Jamilla said, 'but later on."

“Oh, all right.”

I touched my fingers to her blouse, which was brushed silk. “This feels nice.”

“It's supposed to.”

I slowly ran my hands over the shirt, Jamilla's shoulders, the tips of her breasts, her stomach. I massaged her shoulders and she leaned up against me and let out a long, “Mmmm, yessssss, please and thank you.” It was like an impromptu dance, and neither of us knew exactly what was going to happen next. So nice to be back with her again.

“There's no hurry,” she whispered,“ is there?”

“No. We have all the time in the world. You know, this is called entrapment in police circles.”

“Yes, it is. I'm fully aware of that. It's also an ambush. Maybe you ought to just surrender.”

“All right, I surrender, Inspector.”

There was nothing except the two of us. I had no idea where this was going but I was learning to just go along, to enjoy each moment, not to worry too much about the destination.

“You have the softest touch of anyone,” she whispered. “Unbelievable.”

“So do you.”

“You seem surprised.”