Jamilla sighed. “I know, I’m not being very sympathetic, empathetic, whatever. One of my faults.”

“No, it’s me.”

“Yeah.” She laughed again. “It is. I never heard you so down and out. Let’s see what we can do to bring you up.”

We talked about the case she was working on, then Jamilla asked about each of the kids. She was interested as always. But I was in a sour mood, and I couldn’t shake it. I wondered if she could tell, and then I got my answer.

“Well,” Jam said, “I just wanted to see how you were. Call if you have any news. I’m always here for you. I miss you, Alex.”

“I miss you too,” I said.

Then Jamilla broke the connection with a soft “Bye.”

I sat there shaking my head back and forth. Shit. What an ass I was sometimes. I was blaming Jamilla for what had happened with Christine, wasn’t I? How dumb was that?

Chapter 72

Chapter 72

“HI THERE. I missed you,” I said, and smiled. “And I’m sorry.”

Five minutes after Jamilla hung up, I called her back to try and make amends.

“You should be sorry, you poop. Glad to see your famous antennae are still working all right,” she said.

“Not so hard to figure out. The crucial evidence was right before my eyes. That was the shortest phone talk we’ve ever had. Probably the most uncomfortable and frustrating too. I had one of my famous feelings about it.”

“So what’s the matter, Boy Scout? Is it the job or is it something else? Is it me, Alex? You can tell me if it is. I have to warn you, though, I carry a gun.”

I laughed at her joke. Then I took a breath and let it out slowly. “Christine Johnson is back in town. It gets worse from there. She came for Little Alex. She wants to take him away, to get custody, probably take him to Seattle.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath, then, “Oh, Alex, that’s terrible. Terrible. Did you talk to her about it?”

“I sure did. I was at her lawyer’s this afternoon. Christine finds it hard to be tough; her lawyer doesn’t.”

“Alex, has Christine seen the two of you together? How you are with him? You’re like that old movie Kramer vs. Kramer. Dustin Hoffman and that cute little boy.”

“No, she hasn’t really watched us together, but I’ve seen her with Alex. He turned on the charm. Welcomed her back without any recriminations. Little traitor.”

Jamilla was angry now. “Little Alex would. Always the perfect gentleman. Like his father.”

“That, plus—she is his mother. The two of them have a history, Jam. It’s complicated.”