potatoes. Maybe turnips or sweet potatoes.
When she put it all together, when she focused her mind, Maggie Rose thought she was probably being held somewhere down South.
What else did she know? What else could she figure out?
She wasn’t being drugged anymore, not since the beginning. She didn’t think Mr. Soneji had been around for a few days. The scary old lady hadn’t been there, either.
They seldom talked to her. When she was spoken to, they called her Bobbi. Why Bobbi?
She was being so good about everything, but sometimes she needed to cry. Like now. She was choking on her own sobs. Not wanting anybody to hear her.
There was only one thing that gave her strength. It was so simple, but it was powerful.
She was alive.
She wanted to stay alive more than anything.
Maggie Rose hadn’t noticed that the truck was slowing down. It was bumpy going for a while. Then the vehicle came to a full stop.
She heard someone getting out of the cab up front. Muffled words were spoken. She’d been told not to talk in the truck, or she’d be gagged again.
Someone pushed open the sliding door. Sunlight burst in on her. She couldn’t see anything at first.
When she finally could make something out, Maggie Rose couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Hello,” she said in the softest whisper, almost as if she had no voice. “My name is Bobbi.”
CHAPTER 45
IT TURNED OUT to be another very long day in Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania. We interviewed each person who had been kept hostage inside the McDonald’s. The FBI, meanwhile, had taken custody of Soneji/Murphy.
I stayed over that night. So did Jezzie Flanagan. We were together for a second night in a row. Nothing I wanted more.
As soon as we got inside a room at the Cheshire Inn, in nearby Millvale, Jezzie said, “Will you just hold me for a minute or two, Alex. I probably look a little more stable than I really feel.”
I liked holding her, and being held back. I liked the way she smelled. I liked the way she fit into my arms. Everything still felt electric between us.
I was excited by the thought of being with her again. There have been only a couple of people I can open up to. No woman since Maria. I had a feeling Jezzie could be one of those people, and I needed to be connected with someone again. It had taken me a while to figure that one out.
“Isn’t this weird?” she whispered. “Two cops in hot pursuit.” Her body was trembling as I held her. Her hand softly stroked my arm.
I had never been a committed one-night-stand type, and I thought that I probably wouldn’t start now. That raised some problems and theoretical questions that I wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
Jezzie closed her eyes. “Hold me for one more minute,” she whispered. “You know what’s really nice? Being with someone who understands what you’ve been through. My husband never understood The Job.”
“Me neither. In fact, I understand it less every day,” I joked. But I was partly telling the truth.
I held Jezzie for a lot longer than a couple of minutes. She had a startling, ageless beauty. I liked looking at her.
“This is so strange, Alex. Nice strange, but strange,” she said. “Is this whole thing a dream?”
“Can’t be a dream. My middle name is Isaiah. You didn’t know that.”
Jezzie shook her head. “I knew your middle name was Isaiah. I saw it on a report from the Bureau. Alexander Isaiah Cross.”
“I see how you got to the top,” I said to her. “What else do you know about me?”
“All in good time,” Jezzie said. She touched a finger to my lips.
The Cheshire was a picturesque country inn about ten miles north of Wilkinsburg. Jezzie had run in to get us a room. So far, no one had seen us together at the inn, which was fine by both of us.
Our room was in a whitewashed carriage house that was detached from the main building. It was filled with authentic-looking antiques, including a hand loom and several quilts.
There was a woodburning fireplace, and we started a fire. Jezzie ordered champagne from room service.
“Let’s celebrate. Let’s do up the town,” she said as she put down the phone receiver. “We deserve something special. We got the bad guy.”
The inn, the corner room, everything was just about perfect. A bay window looked down over a snow-covered lawn, to a lake slicked with ice. A steep mountain range loomed behind the lake.
We sipped champagne