“If I can help, ”Burns said. “No strings attached, Alex. This is a big case. I think it's important, too.”

“I appreciate that.”

After I got off the phone, I went in search of Nana. She was futzing around in the kitchen as usual. Her kitchen. Her house.

“I need a rest. So do you,” I said to her. “Where do you want to go after your procedure?”

“Paris,” Nana said without blinking an eye. Then maybe Rome. Venice, of course. Florence would be real nice. Then come home through London. Stop in and see the Queen. What do you think? Sound too rich for your blood? Maybe you were thinking of a train ride to Baltimore?" she asked, and laughed at her own joke. She was a funny lady, always had been.

“I have some money put away,”I told her.

“Me too,” she said. “Mad money. What about Jamilla? What about your job?”

“If Jamilla could take some time off, that would be great. She likes her job, though.”

“That sounds familiar, doesn't it? How's your marble collection? Maybe you should buy a couple of jars for her.”

I laughed. Then I went over and put my arms around Nana. Couldn't help myself lately.“I love you, old woman,” I said. “I don't tell you that enough, and when I do, it isn't with the passion I feel.”

“That's nice to hear,” she said. “You can be so sweet sometimes. I love you too, and I always say it with the passion that I feel.”

“You feeling all right?” I asked.

Today's good. Tomorrow, who knows?“ She shrugged. ”I'm making some lunch. Don't ask if you can help. I'm fine. Still on the right side of the grass."

After lunch, I went upstairs to my office in the attic to think about what my next steps should be. There was a fax waiting. I wagged my finger at it. “Unh, uh.”

It was a copy of a news story in the Miami Herald. I read about the execution last night of a man named richter at the Florida State Prison in Starke. Abraham richter had been in Vietnam. Special Forces.

Scrawled at the bottom of the fax was the following:

Innocent of these murders in Florida. Wrongfully accused, convicted and executed. Abraham richter makes six. In case you aren't keeping count.

Foot Soldier

I was keeping count.

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Ninety

Ever since Nana had been under the weather I'd been doing the grocery shopping and most of the household chores. Usually I took little Alex with me to the small Safeway on Fourth Street. That's what I did early in the afternoon.

I carried him high on my shoulders, out the kitchen door and down the driveway to my car.

Alex was giggling and yapping as he always does. The boy never shuts up or sits still. He's a bouncing ball of pure energy and I can't get enough of him.

I was absently thinking about the last message from Foot Soldier, so I don't even know why I happened to notice the black Jeep traveling down Fifth.