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.”
“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.
Now this was definitely very strange. He examined it closely. He was sure it was a replica of the one he'd seen in Ellis Cooper's house. It scared him because it was in Billie's house. What was the doll doing here?
“What is it?” she asked. “What is that creepy doll? I don't remember seeing it before. Is something wrong? You look so serious suddenly.”
“I saw this same doll at Ellis Cooper's house, ”he admitted. “It's from Vietnam. I saw lots of them in villages over there. Something about evil spirits and the dead. These dolls are bad medicine.”
She came over to the glass cabinet and stood beside him. “May I see, please?” She examined the straw doll and shook her head. "It looks like something Laurence might have brought home, I suppose. A souvenir.
Memento more. I honestly don't remember ever seeing it,; though. Isn't that strange. It reminds me the other dayj I found a big, ugly eye in that same cabinet. It was so evil I tossed it."
Sampson held her gaze. “Strange coincidence,” he said, shaking his head. He was thinking that Alex refused to: believe in coincidences. “As far as you remember, your husband never mentioned Sergeant Ellis Cooper?” he asked.
Billie shook her head. She seemed a little spooked now. “No. He rarely talked about the war. He didn't like? it when he was there. He liked it even less once he came back and had time to think about his combat experiences.”
“I can understand that. When I got back to DC I was stationed at Fort Myers in Arlington for a couple of months. I came home in my dress greens one Saturday. I got off a bus in downtown Washington. A white girl in bell bottom jeans and sandals came up and spat on my uniform. She called me a baby murderer. I'll never forget that for the rest of my life. I was so angry I turned and wal
ked away as fast as I could. The hippie girl had no idea what happened over there, what it's like to get shot at, to lose friends, to fight for your country.”
Billie clasped her hands together and slowly rocked back and forth. “I don't know what to tell you about Laurence. I think you probably would have liked him Everybody did. He was very responsible, a good father to our children. He was a thoughtful, loving husband. Before he died, and I'm talking twenty minutes before he was executed, I sat with him in the prison. He stared into my eyes and said, ”I did not kill that young man. Please make sure our kids know that. Make sure, Billie." '
“Yeah,” Sampson said. “Ellis Cooper said something like that, too.”
It got quiet in the living room. A little uncomfortable for the first time.
Finally, Sampson was compelled to speak. “I'm glad you called, Billie. Tonight was great for me. Thank you. I need to go now. It's getting late.”
She was standing beside him and she didn't move. Sampson leaned down and kissed her cheek. God, she was so tiny.
“You do think I'll break,” she said, but then she smiled. “That's all right.”
She walked him out to his car. They felt compelled to talk again, mostly about the night sky over the ocean, how expansive and beautiful it was.
Sampson got into the Cougar and Billie started to walk back to the house. He watched her, and he felt sorry that the night was ending and he'd probably never see her again. He was also a little worried about her. How had the straw doll gotten into her house?
She stopped at the stairs to the house, one hand on the banister. Then, almost as if she'd forgotten something, she walked back to his car.
“I, uhm,” she said, then stopped. She seemed nervous for the first time since they'd met. Unsure of herself.
Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice Page 11
