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“Unh-uh.” I wagged a finger at her.
“Decaffeinated,” she said. “Don’t start in on me, Alex.”
“Nope. I won’t even say that you’re a little touchy this morning. Sleep okay?”
“Nobody my age sleeps okay. I did set up an appointment for the catheter ablation. I go in a week from today. Happy?” she asked.
“Very happy,” I said, then gave her a hug, which Nana returned in kind. Dr. Kayla was right — she was strong for her age.
Later that morning, I had a pretty good talk with FBI Director Burns. He told me he had someone trying to track the e-mail from Foot Soldier, but so far no luck. He asked if I’d given serious consideration about his offer to work at the Bureau. I’d been expecting the question.
“I’ve thought about it some. My life is suddenly a little complicated. For one thing, I need to get some kind of closure on this case with the army.”
“They helping, or getting in the way? The army?” Burns asked.
“A little of both. I’ve met some good people. Army’s like everybody else, though. They want to solve their own problems. There’s something incredibly nasty going on with this murder case. They know it, and so do I. I feel it in my bones. There will be more murders. That’s my fear.”
“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 again. 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 the night before of a man named Tichter at the Florida State Prison in Starke. Abraham Tichter 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 Tichter makes six. In case you aren’t keeping count.
Foot Soldier
I was keeping count.
Chapter 90
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.
