Jamilla was in the second wave of passengers getting off the plane. She had on jeans, a mauve top, and a black leather car jacket that I remembered from our stakeouts together in New Orleans. The two of us had become fast friends on a bizarre homicide case that had started in her hometown of San Francisco, weaved its way through the South, including the Big Easy, then ended up on the West Coast again.

We had been talking about seeing each other ever since, and now we were actually doing it. It was pretty courageous on both of our parts; I just hoped it wasn't dumb. I didn't think so, and I hoped Jam felt the same way.

Jesus, I was twitching as she came walking up to me. She looked great, though. Nice, big smile. What was I so worried about?

“Where are the thick white clouds that are supposed to be covering the city as my plane approached? God, I could see everything the White House, Lincoln Memorial, the Potomac,” Jamilla grinned as she spoke.

I leaned in and gave her a kiss. “Not every city has mountains of fog like San Francisco. You need to travel more. Your flight okay?”

“Sucked,”Jamilla grinned again. “I don't like flying much these days, but I'm glad to be here. This is good, Alex. You're almost as nervous as I am. We never had trouble talking on stakeouts. We'll be fine. We'll be just fine. Now calm down, so I can calm down. Deal?” She grabbed me in both arms, hugged me, then kissed me lightly, but nicely, on the lips. That much better,“ she said, and smacked her lips. ”You taste good."

“You must like spearmint.”

“No, I like you.”

We were a whole lot more comfortable during the ride into Washington in my old Porsche. We talked about everything that had been happening since we'd last seen each other. At first, it was work stuff, but then we got into the whole terrorist mess, then how my family was, and hers, and as usual neither of us shut up once we got started which I love.

It was only as I pulled up to the house that things began to feel tense for me again. “You ready for this?” I asked before we got out of the car.

Jamilla rolled her eyes. “Alex, I have four sisters and three brothers back in Oakland. Are you ready for that?”

“Bring them on,” I said as I grabbed hold of her black leather duffel bag, which obviously held a bowling ball, and headed toward the house. I was holding my breath a little, but I was definitely glad that she was here. I hadn't been this excited in a long time.

“I missed you,” I said.

“Yeah, me too,” said Jam.

Ill

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Thirty-Three

Nana had obviously been thinking about the appropriate welcoming dinner for a while. Jamilla offered to help, and of course Nana refused to let her so much as lift a little finger. So Jam trailed her into the kitchen anyway.