But when she got to the living room, Nana Mama saw that Janelle was already at the door-which was flung wide open.

A strange boy in a red Houston Rockets basketball shirt was still ringing the bell.

“Are you some kind of a crazy person?” Nana called out as she hobbled quickly across the foyer. “Stop that bell ringing this instant! Just stop it now. What do you want here so late? Do I know you, son?”

The boy in the Rockets jersey finally took his hand off the bell. Then he held up a sawed-off shotgun for Nana to see, but she kept coming forward until she protectively held Jannie.

“I will kill dis stupid girl in a second,” he said. “And I will kill you, of woman. I will not hesitate jus' 'cause you de detective's family.”

Chapter 126

IT ALL HAPPENED so fast in the taxi and caught me completely off guard and unprepared, but I saw a chance, and I had to take it.

I didn't think the cab driver was an experienced killer. He'd hesitated instead of just pulling the trigger and shooting me.

So I lurched forward and grabbed the gun and his hand at the same time.

Then I smashed his wrist against the taxi's metal partition. I smashed it again as hard as I could.

The man yelped loudly and he let go of the gun. I pulled it away and swung it toward him.

Suddenly he ducked low and then flung himself out the front door.

I jumped out the back door, but he was already scampering down a grassy hill. Then he disappeared into a thicket of woods off to the side of the highway.

I had a shot with his gun, but I didn't take it. He'd called me “traitor.” Just like the flight attendant.

Did he believe that, or was he doing what he'd been told?

I pictured the man's face, gaunt, a goatee, maybe in his midtwenties. A soldier? A thug? His accented English showed hints of a Nigerian dialect. So Who had sent him after me-the Tiger? Somebody else? Who?

I tried not to speculate on conspiracy theories right now. Not here, not yet.

The keys were still in the ignition, and without much deliberation 1 decided to drive the taxi home. I'd call Metro once I was there.

But what would I tell them-how much of this strange and disturbing story?

And how much would I tell Nana? She wouldn't be happy to see me like this: driving a cab-taken from the driver, who had wanted to kill me.

Chapter 127

IT TOOK ONLY a few minutes for me to get to the house on Fifth Street.

I parked the cab out on the street. Suddenly I was sprinting toward the house. On the way home, I had started to worry about Nana and the kids.