Double Cross

Chapter 105

MONNIE DONNELLEY, a research analyst and a good friend out at Quantico, was the one who called me-probably because Monnie knew I was close to Judge Nina Wolff. The two of us had worked together at the time of Kyle Craig’s trial. Then I had helped with her book. Nina was the doting mother of three teenage girls; her husband, George, was sweet-natured but also funny enough to do stand-up comedy. George was the perfect match for the sober-looking judge.

And now-this outrage, this abomination at their home. Of course, I knew who Nina Wolff’s killer had to be, though I almost wanted to be wrong. I figured there was a slim possibility it could have been DCAK rather than Kyle Craig who had killed the judge, but that was a stretch of the imagination.

I arrived out in the City of Fairfax at two in the morning. I found dozens of cars and vans and trucks, most with garish lights revolving on the tops of their roofs. The suburban neighborhood was up too-every house I passed, just about every window was glowing brilliantly, like fearful, vigilant eyes.

So sad-a neighborhood like this. Peaceful and pretty. People just trying to live their lives with some kind of harmony and dignity. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was.

I climbed out of the R350 at the end of a cul-de-sac, and I started to walk. Then I began to jog, probably because I needed to run. Maybe I even wanted to run away-in some saner part of my brain-but I was moving toward the Wolff house, just like I always did, drawn to danger, to chaos, to death and disaster.

Suddenly I stopped. A chill knifed through me. I hadn’t even gotten to the house, but I had the first awful image. It was right before my eyes.

He’d known I would come here and see it myself, hadn’t he?

A bright-red X was painted on top of the Wolffs’ car, a black S-Class Mercedes.

A second red X was painted across the front door, almost top to bottom.

Except I knew they weren’t Xs. They were crosses! And they were meant just for me.

The press was shouting questions from behind the police lines and also taking countless photographs of the house and car. It was all a blur for me right then.

“It’s DCAK, isn’t it?” I heard. “What’s he doing out here in Virginia? Is he going wide?”

No, I thought, but I kept it to myself. Kyle Craig isn’t going wide. Actually, he’s homing in now. And he has his target all picked out.

No-his targets. Kyle always did think big.