Page 41 of Alex Cross Must Die

That’s it,he vowed.No more distractions until all the firm’s current cases are solved. Every single one.He owed it to his clients. He owed it to his partners. He owed it to himself. He stepped out of the shower. Dried himself thoroughly. Then stepped back into the stall and showered again.

As he walked downstairs in a freshly pressed suit, Holmes immediately sensed something different in the office. A new presence. It was the hair product that struck him first—primarily the acrylic acid and the light citrus additive.

He walked around the edge of the office and saw a young womansitting at a desk. A total stranger. She was tapping on a keypad, with a stack of reports and files by her side. Now the scent of hair gel mingled with the aroma of Native body wash.

“Good morning, Mr. Holmes!”

Holmes stared at her, puzzled. “Sorry. You are …?”

The young woman stood and held out her hand. “I’m Virginia.” Her dark hair was streaked with pink. The stud in her nostril glinted in the light. “Mr. Poe hired me to help out with operations. I started yesterday afternoon. I guess you’d already gone out.” Her grip was firm and professional.

“Of course,” said Holmes, masking his confusion. Had he missed a memo—or just been left out of the loop? It wouldn’t be the first time Poe had gone rogue on office matters.

“I’m so glad to be here,” said Virginia. “Very exciting.” She sat back down in her chair and swung around to face her desk. “Ms. Marple will be right down. Mr. Poe is sleeping in,” she said. “And the coffee is on. Sumatra dark roast. Mr. Poe said you were an early riser. Same with me. Up with the birds.”

Holmes started toward his workspace on the other side of the room, then turned back. He scratched his head. “And what was your previous experience …?”

“I worked at an animal shelter.”

“I see,” said Holmes. “Well, I expect this will be quite different.”

“So far, so good,” said Virginia. “Nobody’s bitten me yet.”

“Wonderful! I see you and Virginia have met.” It was Marple, coming down the stairs with a huge black cat nestled in her arms.

“We have,” Holmes said pointedly. “Just now. At this very moment.” As Marple approached, Holmes stared at the cat, who looked back at him with strange yellow-orange eyes. Unsettling. “And who is this?”

Marple rubbed the cat gently behind the ears. “This is Annabel. A gift from Auguste. She is my avenging angel. Not a rodent in sight.”She set Annabel down on the floor. The cat immediately leaped up onto Virginia’s desk and settled into a Sphinx-like pose next to her computer.

“Virginia is an absolute gem,” said Marple. “She’s already located a crop of unpaid invoices and merged our contact lists.” Marple leaned in toward Virginia. “No rush, but when do you think you might get around to …”

“Updating the security?” said Virginia. “Done. I sent you all an encrypted email with the new temporary codes last night. That’s just until I order the new iris-recognition system.”

Temporary codes?Of course,thought Holmes. He would have received them if he’d had his phone. Embarrassing.

Virginia’s desk phone rang. She picked up. “Holmes, Marple, and Poe Investigations. This is Virginia.” Smooth and friendly. As Holmes watched, Virginia’s eyes widened and her mouth gaped.

“Yes. Of course,” she said softly into the handset. “I’ll tell her right away.”

She put the call on hold and looked straight at Marple. “It’s Addilyn Charles. She said she just got a bloody shirt in the mail.”

Marple looked at Holmes.

Holmes looked at Virginia.

“Welcome to the firm,” he said.

CHAPTER 42

THE CHARLES APARTMENTwas swarming with plainclothes NYPD and federal agents. The special agent in charge was questioning Addilyn on the far side of the room.

Marple stood with her partners in the opposite corner. Poe still looked groggy from sleep. Holmes just looked irritated. Helene Grey crowded in close. “I could have your licenses for this!” the detective hissed. She was clearly furious. “Five days these people have been missing?? What the hell were you thinking??”

“Addilyn trusted us,” said Marple. “She was afraid that calling in the police would spook the kidnappers. But the instant we heard about the shirt—”

“We called you,” said Poe, interrupting. “You’re here now.”

“Right,” said Grey. “And so is the FBI. And I hope to hell we’re not all too late.”

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