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The Family Cross

Page 72

by James Patterson

“I’ve gotta hustle, gotta get Willow some dinner,” John Sampson said.

“Bring her by the house,” I said. “My aunts have been cooking enough for an NFL team every night. And Nana’s telling stories we’ve never heard before.”

He thought about that and nodded. “Sounds good.”

I went home and walked inside to hear music playing and squeals of laughter coming from farther within the house. After dropping my service weapon and credentials into the lockbox by the front door, I found my aunts in the living room trying to teach Ali and Damon how to swing dance.

“I’m following you,” Aunt Connie Lou said to Ali, who seemed confused about his role.

Damon already got it. He looked at his little brother and said, “You’re in charge. You lead the way with your hands.”

I walked up behind Bree, who was watching with great delight. “Hey, you.”

She turned around and grinned. “You missed the funniest stuff just now.”

“Darn it,” I said. “I could use a good laugh.”

When the song ended, everyone—including Nana Mama and the night nurses—clapped and whistled.

“Another?” Nana Mama asked. “Ali get it.”

Aunt Hattie said, “After dinner maybe. We’ve got roast pork loin, sweet potato fries, and spicy green beans coming up.”

“John will be along soon with Willow,” I said. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Connie said, going to the kitchen with Hattie. “Ten minutes!”

Bree and I spoke quietly to each other. “I had time to look at some other properties owned by Frost and Lear,” she told me. “There are a couple of them several blocks from the condemned building where the first body was found.”

My stomach sank a little as I thought about the story Choir Boy had told me. But I could not bear to tell Bree about my fears regarding my brother until I’d checked it out.

As I tamped down my concerns, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to Sampson and his daughter, Willow.

“Perfect timing, dinner is served!” Aunt Connie called.

“What’s for dessert?” Willow asked as soon as she’d greeted us all.

“Peach cobbler,” Aunt Hattie said, and the girl trotted happily toward the kitchen.

“She’d eat dessert first if I let her,” Sampson said, laughing.

“Wouldn’t we all?” I asked.

“The world might be a better place,” Bree said. “Well, maybe not.”

The aunts outdid themselves with a meal of pork loin roasted in mustard and wine sauce. Sampson declared it the best he’d ever had until Nana Mama said, “Had before. My recipe.”

Chagrined, he went to her side and said, “How could I not have known?”

My grandmother laughed. “Smooth, John.”

“Nope,” he said, grinning.

“You trip lot.”

“I remember.”

Across the room, Willow looked up from her peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream and said, “What’s that mean, Dad?”