Page 24 of The House of Cross

“We’re backing out of here,” Mahoney said. “We’re still under review.”

“I agree,” I said. We did, and he pulled the door shut.

We called in the Montgomery County sheriff’s department and the Maryland state police, told them what we knew, and left the scene to their detectives around eight o’clock that evening with the understanding that we would brief them the following day on our interactions with the murdered husband of the murdered driver of the murdered federal judge.

Mahoney finally dropped me off around eight thirty that night. I felt wrung out. I wished him well, exited the car, and saw a wreath on the front door.

It surprised me until I realized it was December 20, only five more days until Christmas and I hadn’t even started to look for presents. In the house, I heard Burl Ives singing “A Holly Jolly Christmas.”

Then other voices started singing it too. I looked into the front room and saw my entire family, including my older son, Damon, back from college for the holidays, sitting around watchingRudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeerand singing along with Burl. Sampson was there too, singing along with his daughter, Willow, on his lap.

Despite the strange and deadly day that I’d had, I got tears in my eyes, more proof I was getting weirdly sentimental as the years passed. I joined in on the last chorus, holding Bree’s hand, then greeted everyone and hugged Damon.

“You tower over me now,” I said.

“Coach said I grew another inch,” Damon said, grinning. “I’m officially on the roster as six foot six and a half inches. Two hundred seventeen.”

Jannie said, “I don’t know how he runs being that heavy.”

Damon said, “I’m just up and down the court hustling—I’m not a world-class four-hundred runner.”

“I’m not world-class yet,” she said.

“I don’t know what else you’d call yourself. Anyway, big as I am, I know I’m never going to the NBA, and I’m cool with that.”

“Never say never,” Nana Mama said.

I learned that there’d been a gas leak at Sampson’s house, so they were staying with us for the next few days while it was being fixed. Willow would sleep in Jannie’s room, John down on the sofa.

“Nana Mama?” Willow said. “Can I get one more Christmas cookie before we finishRudolph?”

“It is the Christmas season,” my grandmother said. “Go on. But only one.”

Willow let out a whoop, launched herself off Sampson’s lap, and took off toward the kitchen with all of us laughing.

“She run around like that at Disney World?” Bree asked.

“Constantly,” he said. “Every time she saw a character, she’d go straight over to get her picture taken.”

“Miracle you didn’t lose her. Wasn’t the park packed?”

“Near capacity. But I always knew where she was.”

“How’s that?”

Sampson got up and picked up Willow’s pack, the one he’dhad made for her after a terrorist threat in DC; it had special Kevlar inserts that might deflect a bullet or bomb fragment. He unzipped a side pocket and got out what looked like a small, pink car-ignition fob.

He showed it to us. “A company called Jiobit makes it.”

Ali said, “It’s a tracking device.”

“A fairly amazing one,” John said. “It talks to an app on my phone.”

“What’s its range?”

“It will talk to any satellite on earth. Has a three-week charge. She doesn’t even know it’s there and that pack never left her back unless I was holding it.”

“What if she lost the pack?”

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