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watched him walk to a shiny black Jag parked in a graveled driveway on the
side of the house.
Creature of habit, I said. A weasel.
Creature anyway, she said. We both smiled. The ice was breaking up a little
between us. She admitted that she had checked me out thoroughly. She d decided
that Chief Pittman was the bad guy in all of this, not me.
The Jaguar pulled out of the drive and we followed Shafer to a night spot in
Georgetown. He didn t seem to be aware of us. The problem was that we had to
catch him doing something; we had no concrete evidence that he was our killer.
Shafer sat by himself at the bar and we watched him from the street. Did he
perch by the window on purpose? I wondered. Did he know we were watching? Was
he playing with us?
I had a bad feeling that he was. This was all some kind of bizarre game to
him. He left the bar around a quarter to twelve and returned home just past
midnight.
Bastard. Patsy grimaced, and shook her head. Her blonde hair was soft and
had a nice bounce to it. She definitely reminded me of Jezzie Flanagan, a
Secret Service agent I d worked with on the kidnapping of two children in
Georgetown.
He s in for the night? I asked. What was that all about? He leaves the
house to watch the Orioles baseball game at a bar in Georgetown?
That s how it s been the last few nights. I think he knows we re out here.
He s an intelligence officer. He knows surveillance. We also know he likes
to play fantasy games. At any rate, he s home for the night, so I m going home
too, Patsy. I don t like leaving my family alone too long.
Goodnight, Alex. Thanks for the help. We ll get him. And maybe we ll find
your friend soon.
I hope so.
On the drive home, I thought a little about Detective Patsy Hampton. She
struck me as a lonely person, and I wondered why. She was thoughtful and
interesting once you got past her tough facade. I wondered if anyone could
really get through the facade though.
There was a light on in our kitchen when I rolled into the driveway. I
strolled around to the back door and saw Damon and Nana, in their bathrobes at
the stove. Everything seemed all right.
Am I breaking up a pajama party? I asked as I eased in through the back
door.
Damon has an upset stomach. I heard him in the kitchen so I came out to get
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in his way.
I m all right. I just couldn t sleep. I saw you were still out, he
said. It s after midnight.
He looked worried, and also a little sad. Damon had really liked Christine
and he told me a couple of times that he was looking forward to having a mom
again. He d already begun to think of her that way. He and Jannie missed
Christine a whole lot. Twice, they d had important women taken away from them.
I was working a little late. That s all. It s a very complicated case,
Damon, but I think I m making progress, I said. I went to the cabinet and
took out two tea bags.
I ll make you tea, Nana offered.
I can do it, I said, but she reached for the bags and I let her take them
away from me. It doesn t pay to argue with Nana, especially not in her
kitchen.
You want some tea and milk, big guy? I asked Damon.
All right, he said. He pronounced it ah-yite, as they do in the
playgrounds, and probably even at the Sojourner Truth School.
You sound like that poor excuse of an NBA point guard Alan Iverson, Nana
said to him. She didn t much like street slang, never had. She had started off
as an English teacher and never lost her love of books and language. She loved
Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Maya Angelou, and also Oprah Winfrey for bringing
their books to a wider audience.
He s the fastest guard in the league, Grandma Moses. Shows what you know
about basketball, said Damon. You probably think Magic Johnson is still
playing in the league. And Wilt Chamberlain.
I like Marbury with the Timberwolves, and Stoudamire with Portland, formerly
with Toronto. Nana said, and gave a little triumphant smile. Ah-yite?
Damon laughed. Nana probably knew more about NBA point guards than either of
us. She could always get you if she wanted to.
We sat at the kitchen table and drank tea with milk and too much sugar, and
we were mostly quiet, but it was kind of nice. I love family, always
have. Everything that I am flows from that. Finally, Damon got up from the
table. He went to the sink and rinsed out his cup.
I can probably sleep now, he reported to us. Give it a try anyway.
He came back to the table and gave Nana and me a kiss before he went back
upstairs to bed. You miss her, don t you? He whispered against my cheek.
Of course I miss Christine. I said to Damon. All the time. Every waking
minute. I didn t make mention of the fact that I was out late because I was
observing the sonofabitch who may have abducted her. Nor did I say anything
about the other detective on surveillance, Patsy Hampton.
When Damon left, Nana put her hand in mine and we sat like that for a few
minutes before I went up to bed.
I miss her, too. Nana finally said. I m praying for you both, Alex.
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