HE STAYED ON the line as I drove along Fifth Street but didn't say much of anything-and nothing to help me figure out what 1 should do next. I was trying to think things through, to make some kind of plan-anything that might work, maybe even a wild hunch.
“Let me speak to my family,” I spoke again.
“Why should I?”
I thought about stepping on the brakes, making a stand here, but he had every advantage right now.
“Which way?” I said.
“Make a right, next corner.”
I did as I was told.
“The fight in Africa is not your fight, white man!” I listened to the Tiger spitting rage as I drove along Malcolm X Avenue in Southeast. “You should drive faster,” he said, as if he were right there in the front seat, watching me.
He directed me onto I-295 heading south toward Maryland. I'd been on that road countless times before, but it seemed unreal and unfamiliar tonight.
Next, I merged onto 95 and then Route 210 and followed it for nearly fifteen miles, which seemed much farther than that.
Eventually I found myself on 425.
His voice went low. “Let me tell you something that's true. You are only coming to collect the bodies. You want the bodies, don't you?”
“I want my family back,” I said. He only laughed at that.
I said little more to the Tiger unless he asked me a direct question, and he didn't seem to care. Maybe he wanted to hear himself talk.
I needed to put the rational part of my mind in another place. So I listened to his threats, his cruel insults, but I just let them flow over me. It wasn't hard, because I was numb anyway. I was here, but I wasn't.
Cross Country
Chapter 139
“PULL OFF THE road!” he commanded.
I did as I was told.
There didn't seem to be any other vehicles around. 1 didn't think I had passed anyone since I'd gotten onto Layloes Nick Road, somewhere in Maryland-around Nanjemoy.
But I wasn't completely sure. How could I be?
I was that out of it. That nervous and afraid, that petrified.
“Take the next right. At the corner. Don't miss the turn. You better hurry now! Hurry!”
I made the turn, then drove straight ahead, as I was told to do. The trees and bushes surrounding the road appeared black and very thick, possibly because my peripheral vision was narrowing in the dark.
Above me was a big sky filled with stars. I was reminded of Jannie, her love of the stars, but then 1 forced the sentimental thought out of my mind.
Nothing sentimental. Not now.
Maybe never again.
“Stop your motor, get out! Do exactly as I say!”
“That's what I'm doing.”
Cross Country
Chapter 140
“YOU SEE THE farm ahead? Come and get your family. You can collect the bodies now! I know you can't believe it, but it's true. They're all dead, Dr. Cross. Come to the farm and see.”
My heart was floating as I started sweeping forward through tall grass and bushes toward the small farmhouse that was still a couple of hundred yards away. My legs and arms felt numb, like they were part of somebody else.
I tried to calm myself by taking slow, deep breaths. Then by not thinking at all. Finally, by gathering my hatred for the Tiger into a small, tight ball that could explode at the proper time.
“You remember how you found the Cox family in Georgetown? This is better,” he taunted me. “You made it happen, Detective.”
I wanted to tell the rabid monster that my family had done nothing to hurt anybody ever, but I kept it inside. I didn't want to give him anything else. I couldn't stop my brain from working that way, but I was trying to concentrate on the danger and the horrors ahead.
This had to be a trap, I told myself. Somebody wanted me here. They needed to find out what I knew about the war in Nigeria. It didn't matter. I had to be here, no matter what.
“Are you ready, Detective?”
The last sound-his voice-wasn't coming from the cell phone in my hand.
Then the Tiger stepped out from the bushes. “You ready for me?” he asked. “You want the mystery solved?”
Cross Country
Chapter 141
“FINALLY, YOU LISTEN. Only it's too late, fool,” the killer spoke in a loud, cocky voice as he moved toward me. Two young thugs were at his sides-Houston Rockets, and a blunt-faced boy who aimed a flashlight at my eyes.
“Where's my family?” I said, staying on message as best I could under the circumstances.
“What difference does it make-one family? You make me laugh. All you pitiful Americans. Everyone laughs at you, all over the world.”
He pulled out a hunting knife and showed the long, thick blade to me. He didn't say anything about the knife; he didn't have to. I had seen what it could do at Ellie's house.
“Where are they?” I asked again.
“You think you get to ask the questions? I can make you scream. Beg for death. Your life is nothing to us. We say 'ye ye'-'useless, worthless.' Your family-nothing. Ye ye. It means useless.”
The Tiger came up close and I could smell his sweat and the tobacco on his breath. He held the knife close to my throat.
