“Pell: You want to analyze me, don’t you? You want to know what makes me tick? You surely know the answer to that one, Doctor. It’s the same for everybody: family, of course. Daddy whipped me, Daddy ignored me, Mommy didn’t breastfeed me, Uncle Joe did who knows what. Nature or nurture, you can lay everything at your family’s feet. But if you think too much about ’em, next thing you know, every single relative and ancestor you ever had is in the room with you and you’re paralyzed. No, no, the only way to survive is to let ’em all go and remember that you’re who you are and that’s never going to change.
“Interviewer: Then who are you, Daniel?
“Pell (laughing): Oh, me? I’m the one tugging the strings of your soul and making you do things you never thought you were capable of. I’m the one playing my flute and leading you to places you’re afraid to go. And let me tell you, Doctor, you’d be astonished at how many people want their puppeteers and their Pied Pipers. Absolutely astonished.”
“I have to get home,” Dance said, after Nagle had left. Her mother and the children would be anxiously awaiting her for her father’s party.
Kellogg tossed the comma of hair off his forehead. It fell back. He tried again. She glanced at the gesture and noticed something she hadn’t seen before—a bandage protruding above the collar of his shirt.
“You hurt?”
A shrug. “Got winged. A takedown in Chicago the other day.”
His body language told her he didn’t want to talk about it, and she didn’t push. But then he said, “The perp didn’t make it.” In a certain tone and with a certain glance. It was how she told people that she was a widow.
“I’m sorry. You handling it okay?”
“Fine.” Then he added, “Okay, not fine. But I’m handling it. Sometimes that’s the best you can do.”
On impulse she asked, “Hey, you have plans tonight?”
“Brief the SAC, then a bath at the hotel, a scotch, a burger and sleep. Well, okay, two scotches.”
“Have a question.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“You like birthday cake?”
After only a brief pause he said, “It’s one of my favorite food groups.”
Chapter 26
“Mom, look. We deck-orated it! D-E-C-K.”
Dance kissed her daughter. “Mags, that’s funny.”
She knew the girl had been bursting, waiting to share the pun.
The Deck did look nice. The kids had been busy all afternoon getting ready for the party. Banners, Chinese lanterns, candles everywhere. (They’d learned from their mom; when it came to entertaining, Kathryn Dance’s guests might not get gourmet food, but they were treated to great atmosphere.)
“When can Grandpa open his presents?” Both Wes and Maggie had saved up allowance money and bought Stuart Dance outdoor gear—waders and a net. Dance knew her father’d be happy with anything his grandchildren got him but those particular items he would definitely use.