Detective Cross

Chapter 30

I hesitated, but only for a beat. If it really was the bomber, being positioned behind him could be a good thing, especially in a confined space.

I pivoted away and climbed aboard. Gordon Light was driving. He recognized me and started to say something, but I held a finger to my lips as I ran my Metro card over the reader. I headed toward the rear of the semi-crowded bus but stood instead of taking a seat, holding on to a strap facing the side windows. When the doors shut and we started to move, I lowered my hood and glanced around.

Kate was standing in the aisle ten feet forward of me. Her eyes met mine, and she slightly tilted her head toward a man wearing a dark blue windbreaker, hood up. He was looking out the window, giving me no view of his face.

The seat beside him was empty. So was the entire seat behind him.

Kate sat next to him, blocking his exit, which caused him to pivot his head to glance at her.

What the hell is she thinking? I groaned to myself. And what the hell was I thinking, coming on this wild-goose chase?

Because I could now see that under a mop of frizzy brown hair was a bored, pimply, teenage boy, who turned away from Kate when she opened her magazine. Her right hand left the magazine and gestured behind her at the empty seat.

I wanted to get off at the next exit and head home. Maybe Nana had saved me a plate. But when the bus slowed for a red light, I thought, What the hell? Kate had led me this far. I slipped into the seat behind them.

When the bus started rolling again, Kate shut her magazine and said, “I have a friend who goes to your school.”

I kept a neutral expression. The kid didn’t respond at first, then looked over at her.

“What’s that?” he said, roused from thought.

“Benjamin Banneker High School,” she said. “It’s on your jacket.”

“Oh,” he said, without enthusiasm. “Yeah.”

“She runs track. Jannie Cross. You know her?”

The kid gave her a sidelong glance. “She’s in my chemistry class.”

Chemistry and in Jannie’s class. Now I was interested. Real interested.

“Nice girl, that Jannie,” Kate said. “What’s your name so I can tell her I met you?”

He hesitated, but then answered, “Mickey. Mickey Hawkes.”

“Kate Williams. Nice to meet you, Mickey Hawkes,” she said, and smiled.

We pulled over at a bus stop, and more people started to board.

Kate said, “Must have been scary there for a while yesterday.”

“Scary?” Mickey said.

“You know. The bomb threat?”

His posture stiffened. He said, “Oh, that. It was more boring than scary. We stood there for hours, waiting to see the school explode. I should have gone home.”

“So you were out there the entire time?”

“Yup. Like three solid hours.”

“Huh,” Kate said. She looked at him directly. “Mickey, it’s weird. I’m one of these people who remembers every face they see. And I distinctly remember seeing you come off the Circulator bus at the Vietnam Memorial, maybe twenty minutes after the school was evacuated.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. You were wearing that same windbreaker. You were excited, and looking at your cell phone. Probably at the news that the school had been evacuated, after you called Jannie Cross with the bomb threat.”

The kid locked up for two long beats, before turning fully toward her. He looked past her, over his shoulder to me. In a split second I saw recognition, fear, and resolution in his expression. This was our guy. But he’s just a kid, I thought.

Twisting away from us, he lurched to his feet and stepped onto his seat, holding his cell phone high overhead.

“I’m wearing a bomb vest!” he shouted. “Do what I say, or everyone dies!”