Patterson, James - Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

“A little bit,” I admitted. “It's probably because I saw your tough-as-nails side when we were working together.”

“Is that a problem for you? My tough side?”

“No. It isn't,” I told her,“ I like your tough side. As long as you don't get too rough with me.”

Jam immediately pushed me back onto the bed, then fell on top of me. I kissed her cheeks, then her sweet lips. She smelled and tasted so good. I could feel the pulse under her skin. There's no hurry.

“I was a tomboy when I was a kid in Oakland. Baseball player, fast-pitch softball,” she said. “I wanted my father and my brothers to approve of me.”

“Did they?”

“Oh yeah. Are you kidding? I was all-state in baseball and track.”

“Do they still approve?”

“I think so. Yeah, they do. My pop's a little disappointed I'm not playing for the Giants,” she said, and laughed. “He thinks I could give Barry Bonds a run.”

Jamilla helped me with my pants while I unhooked her skirt. I shivered, couldn't control it. All the time in the world.

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Fifty-Three

When his interview with Mrs. Billie Houston was finished, it was too late for Sampson to head back to Washington, plus he liked the atmosphere at the shore, so he checked into Conover's Bay Head Inn, a bed and breakfast in town that Billie had recommended.

He had just stepped into his room on the third floor when the phone rang. He wondered who could be calling him here?

“Yeah?”he spoke into the receiver. “John Sampson.”

There was a short silence.

“This is Billie. Mrs. Houston.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and found that he was surprised, but he was smiling. He definitely hadn't expected the call, hadn't expected to hear from her again. “Well, hi. I haven't spoken to you... in minutes. Did you forget to tell me something?”

“No. Well, yes I did, actually. Here you are helping Laurence, and I do absolutely nothing to make your visit more comfortable. Would you have dinner at the house tonight? I've already got food in, so please don't say no. What do you have to lose? I'm a good cook, by the way.”

Sampson hesitated. He wasn't sure this was such a good idea. It wasn't that he thought dinner with Billie Houston would be a chore. It was just, well, a potentially uncomfortable situation, maybe a conflict of interest.

Still, the way she'd put it, what choice did he have? And what real harm could it do?

“That's a fine idea. I'd like to have dinner at the house. What time should I come by?”

“Whatever suits you is fine. It's nothing fancy, Detective. I'll start up the grill as soon as you arrive.”

“How about an hour? Is that all right? I'm John, by the way. Not Detective.”

“I think you told me that. You already know I'm Billie, and if you don't mind, I prefer that to Mrs. Houston. I'll see you in about an hour.”

She hung up, and Sampson held onto the receiver for another few seconds. Now that he thought about it, dinner with Billie Houston didn't seem like a bad idea. He was looking forward to it as he stepped out of his clothes and headed for the shower.

Nothing fancy sounded pretty good.

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Fifty-Four

Sampson picked up a small bouquet of flowers and a bottle of red at Central Market in Bay Head. As he got to the beach house, he wondered if he was overdoing it. Flowers? Wine? What was going on here?

Was he feeling guilty about the fact that this woman's husband might have been murdered? Or that she was a widow before her time? Or did it have something to do with Ellis Cooper? Or was this just about Billie Houston and himself?

He went round to the screen door that led into the kitchen of the beach house. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the wooden frame.

“Hi? Billie?”he called out.

Billie? Was that how he should be talking to her?

He had no idea why, but he was concerned for her safety. Yet no one would want to hurt Billie Houston now, would they? Still, he felt what he felt. The real killers were out there somewhere. Why not here in New Jersey?

“Door's open. C'mon in,” she called. “I'm out on the porch.”

He came in through the kitchen and saw her setting a small dining table on the open front porch facing the ocean. Beautiful spot for dinner. Adirondack chairs, a wicker rocker painted navy blue to match the shutters.

He could see the ocean over the top of the dunes and the constantly waving sea grass.

But his eyes went back to her. She had on a crisp white shirt with faded Levi's, no shoes again. Her hair was clipped back in a ponytail. She'd put on a little lipstick, just a touch.

“Hi there. I thought that we'd eat out here. It's not too cold for you, is it?” she asked with a wink.

Sampson stepped out onto the spacious wood porch. The breeze was coming from inland, but it was comfortable outside. He could smell the ocean, but also sea lavender and asters in the air.

“It's just about perfect,” he said. That was true. The temperature was just right, as was the table she'd set, and the view of the ocean was definitely something else. There sure wasn't anything like this in Southeast DC.

“Let me do something to help, ”he said.

“Good idea. You can chop vegetables and finish up the salad. Or you can cook on the grill.”

Sampson found himself smiling. “Not much of a choice there. I'll do the salad. Nah, I'm kidding. I'd be happy to grill. Just so long as I don't have to wear a hat or apron with a snappy slogan on it,”

She laughed. “Don't have any of those. You passed a CD player on your way from the kitchen. I left a bunch of CDs out. Pick what you like.”

This a test?" he asked.

Billie laughed again. “No, you already passed all your tests. That's why I asked you to supper. Stop worrying about me and you. We won't break. This is going to be fun. Better than you think.”

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Fifty-Five

She was right about the night being special. It embarrassed him, but he just about forgot Ellis Cooper for several hours. Sampson was usually quiet unless he knew somebody pretty well. Part of it was shyness, because he'd always been so tall and stood out in every social group. But he was honest enough with himself to know he didn't want to waste time on people who didn't mean anything to him, and never would.

Billie was different and he knew it, from the first time she spoke to him. The surprising thing about her was that he liked hearing her talk about anything. Her daily routine in Mantoloking; her two grown children -Andrew, a freshman at Rutgers, and Kari, a senior at Monmouth; the ocean tides and how they affected surf-casting for blues; a half dozen other things. In addition to the house-sitting, she still worked full-time as a nurse. She was in the Emergency Clinic and specialized in adult trauma. She'd flown in Med-Evac helicopters to the larger trauma units in Newark and

Philadelphia. Once upon a time, she'd even worked as a MASH unit nurse.

They didn't discuss her husband until after dinner. Sampson brought the subject up again. It had gotten cooler and they'd moved back into the living room. Billie started a fire, which was crackling and popping and warming things up inside.

“Do you mind if we talk about Laurence for a few more minutes?” he asked as they sat together on a small couch near the fire. “We don't have to do this now if you don't want to.”

“No, it's okay. It's fine, really. That's why you came here.”

Suddenly, something caught Sampson's eye. He rose up from the couch and walked to a glass case near the fireplace. He reached inside and took out a straw doll.