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“We could get a warrant,” Sampson said.
Bogrov dropped the facade of friendliness and said, “On what basis, Detective?”
“The murder of a DC police chief and his confidential informant.”
Bogrov’s eyes narrowed. “I ask again, on what basis? Yes, I know who Edita was killed with, but where do you connect this to my club?”
“At the moment, I’m not at liberty to say.”
“This means you have nothing,” Bogrov said with a dismissive flap of a giant hand. “And since you are from the District of Columbia and not the Commonwealth of Virginia, you have no jurisdiction here. So I ask you politely but firmly to leave the property.”
Chapter
29
I woke out of a dead sleep to find Jannie standing by the bed holding her running shoes.
Dazed, I glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to six. Then I remembered I’d told her to wake me and we’d run together. I’d been working so much I wasn’t getting in my normal workouts and had put on five pounds I didn’t need.
So I nodded and got up, leaving Bree blissfully snoozing. I dressed in the bathroom, went into the kitchen, and made a cup of instant coffee. As I sat there drinking it, I tried to muster up the will to tie my shoelaces. This wasn’t going to be a fun run. More like torture.
“Dad?”
Stifling a yawn, I looked up and saw Ali standing there, rubbing his eyes.
“What are you doing up so early, kiddo?” I asked.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, coming over to snuggle with me, which didn’t help my workout plans. I could have drifted off right then and there with my little boy in my arms.
But I said, “You couldn’t fall asleep? Or you couldn’t stay asleep?”
“Both,” he said. “I had too much to think about.”
“Really?” I said, closing my eyes. “Like what?”
“Time,” Ali said. “And how it, like, curves at the speed of light. Neil deGrasse Tyson said that’s what happens, so it has to be true.”
I opened my eyes, thinking how strange it was to be having this conversation with a seven-year-old. “I think Einstein figured that out.”
“I know that,” Ali said. “Which makes it doubly true, and that’s the problem, and that’s why I can’t sleep.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t see it in my head—you know, time curving.”
“And that’s why you fell asleep late and woke up early?”
“Yes,” he said, snuggling deeper into my lap. “Can you explain it to me?”
I had to fight not to laugh.
“Uh, no,” I said. “Physics isn’t one of my strengths even when I’m well rested.”
“Oh,” Ali said. “I was thinking that maybe it was like when you’re dreaming and time seems like it goes on forever, but scientists studying your brain say you’re only dreaming for three to eight minutes. Does that make sense?”
That woke me up for good, and I looked down at my son and wondered what he would become. I’d told all my kids that they could be anything their hearts desired as long as they were willing to work for it. But at that moment, Ali seemed limitless.
“Dad? Does that make sense?”
