Nana nodded her head, up and down, up and down, like one of those dolls that people keep on the dashboards of their automobiles. Then she pushed herself up and started to gather the ice-cream dishes the kids had left around the porch.

“I’ll get those,” I told her.

“Kids should get them. They know better too.”

“They take advantage when I’m around.”

“Right. Because they know you feel guilty.”

“For what?” I asked. “What did I do? What am I missing here?”

“Now, that is the main question you have to answer, isn’t it? I’m going in to bed. Good-night, Alex. I love you. And I do like Oreos and cream.”

Then she muttered, “Hopeless.”

“Am not,” I said to her back.

“Are too.” She spoke without turning. She always got the last word.

I eventually moseyed up to my office in the attic and made a phone call I’d been dreading. But I’d made a promise.

The phone rang and then I heard a man’s voice say, “Brendan Connolly.”

“Hello, Judge Connolly, this is Alex Cross,” I said. I heard him sigh, but he said nothing, so I continued. “I don’t have any specific good news about Mrs. Connolly yet. We have over fifty agents active in the Atlanta area, though. I’m calling because I told you I’d keep in touch and to reassure you that we’re working.”

Because I made a promise.

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

SOMETHING ABOUT THE ABDUCTIONS wasn’t tracking for me. The early kidnappings had been committed carefully, then suddenly the abductors began to get sloppy. The pattern was inconsistent. Why? What did it mean? What had changed? If I could figure that out, we might have a break.

The next morning, I got to Quantico about five minutes before the director touched down in a big black Bell helicopter. The news that Burns was on the grounds circulated quickly. Maybe Monnie Donnelley was right about one thing, this was the Information Age, even inside the Bureau, even at Quantico.

Burns had ordered an emergency meeting, and I was informed that I was to come. Maybe I was back on the case? The director acknowledged a couple of agents when he entered the conference room in the Admin. building. His eyes never made contact with mine, though, and once again I wondered what he was doing here. Did he have news for us? What kind of news would warrant a visit from him?

He sat in the first row as the Behavioral Analysis Unit chief, Dr. Bill Thompson, walked to the front of the room. It was becoming clear that Burns was here as an observer. But why? What did he want to observe?