“I’ll get it,” said Damon. “It’s probably for me. Some girlfriend.” He snatched the ringing telephone off the kitchen wall, flipped it from one hand to the other.

“You wish it was a girl,” taunted Jannie from the table. “Dinnertime. It’s probably somebody selling MCI or a bank loan. They always call at dinner.”

Then Damon was pointing at me, and he wasn’t smiling. He didn’t look so good either, as if he’d suddenly gotten a little sick to his stomach. “Dad,” he said in a low voice. “It’s for you.”

I got up from the table and took the phone from him.

“You okay?” I asked.

“It’s Ms. Johnson,” Damon whispered.

My throat felt constricted as I took the receiver. Now I was the one who felt a little sick, but also confused. “Hello? This is Alex,” I said.

“It’s Christine, Alex. I’m in Washington. For a few days. I’d like to see Little Alex while I’m here,” she said, sounding as if it were a prepared speech.

I felt my face flush. Why are you calling here? Why now? I wanted to say but didn’t. “Do you want to come over tonight? It’s a little late, but we could keep him up.”

She hesitated. “Actually, I was thinking about tomorrow. Maybe around eight-thirty, quarter to nine in the morning? Would that be all right?”

I said, “That would be fine, Christine. I’ll be here.”

“Oh,” she said, then fumbled for words a little. “You don’t have to stay home for me. I heard you were working for the FBI.”

My stomach clenched. Christine Johnson and I had split up over a year ago, mainly because of the nature of the murder cases I worked. She had actually been abducted because of my work. We finally found her in a shack in a remote area of Jamaica. Alex was born there. I hadn’t known Christine was pregnant at the time. We were never the same after that. I felt it was my fault. Then she’d moved to Seattle. It had been Christine’s idea that Alex stay with me. She’d been seeing a psychiatrist and said she wasn’t emotionally fit to be a mother. Now she was in D.C. “for a few days.”

“What brings you back to Washington?” I finally asked.

“I wanted to see our son,” she said, her voice going very soft. “And some friends of mine.” I remembered how much I had loved her, and probably still did on some level, but I was resigned to the fact that we wouldn’t be together. Christine couldn’t stand my life as a cop, and I couldn’t seem to give it up.

“All right, well, I’ll be over at around eight-thirty tomorrow,” she said.

“I’ll be here,” I said.

Chapter 55

Chapter 55

EIGHT-THIRTY ON THE BUTTON.