It's a gift he has. Some people feel that Kyle could wind up at the top of the Bureau, and that it would be the best thing that ever happened.
"First, the honorable Ronald Burns appears in Durham. Now you show up.
What gives?" I asked Kyle.
“Tell me what you have so far,” he said. “I'll try to reciprocate as much as I can.” “I'm doing psych profiles on the murdered women,” I told Kyle. “The so-called rejects. In two of the cases, the rejected women had very strong personalities. They probably gave him a lot of trouble. That could be why he killed them, to get rid of them. The exception was Bette Anne Ryerson. She was a mother, in therapy, and she might have had a nervous breakdown.” Kyle massaged his scalp with one hand. He was also shaking his head.
“You've been given no information, no help whatsoever. But zip-a-dee-doo-dah” he smiled at me “you're still a half-step ahead of our people. I haven't heard that theory about the '.” It's pretty good, Alex, especially if he's a control freak."
“He could definitely be a control freak, Kyle. There has to be a damn good reason why he got rid of those three women. Now, I thought you were going to tell me some things I didn't know.” “Maybe, if you pass a few more simple tests, that is. What else have you figured out?” 1 bad-eyed Kyle while I slowly sipped my beer. “You know, I thought you were all right, but you're just another FBI prick.” “I was programmed at Quantico,” Kyle said in a passable computer voice.
“Have you done a psych profile on Casanova?” “I'm working on it.” I told him what he already knew. “As much as I can with virtually no information available.” Kyle beckoned with the cupped fingers of his right hand. He wanted it all, and then maybe he'd share something with me.
“He has to be someone who blends into the community well,” I said. “No one's even come close to catching him. He's probably driven by the same obsessive sexual fantasies that he's had since he was a boy. He could have been the victim of abuse, maybe incest. Maybe he was a Peeping Tom, a rapist, or a date rapist. Now he's a very fancy collector of extremely beautiful women; he seems to choose only the extraordinary ones. He's researching them, Kyle. I'm almost sure of it. He's lonely. Maybe he wants the perfect woman.” Kyle shook his head back and forth. "You are so goddamn crazy, man.
You think like him!"
“Not funny.” I grabbed Kyle's cheek between my thumb and forefinger.
“Now you tell me something I don't know.” Kyle pulled away from my cheek hold "Let me run a deal by you, Alex.
This is a good deal, so don't get cynical on me."
I raised my hand high in the air for the table waitress. “Check! Separate checks, please.”
“No, no. Wait. This is a good deal, Alex. I hate to say, ”Trust me,“ but trust me. Just to prove my truthfulness, I simply can't tell you everything right now. I'll admit that the case is definitely bigger than anything you've seen so far. You're right about Burns. The deputy director wasn't down here by accident.” “I figured Burns wasn't here to see the azaleas.” I felt like yelling at Kyle inside the quiet hotel bar. “Okay, tell me one thing I don't know already.” “I can't tell you any more than I already have.” “Damn you, Kyle. You haven't told me a goddamn thing.” I raised my voice. “What's the deal you have for me?” He put up a hand. He wanted me calm for this. "Listen. As you know, or suspect, this is already a four-star, multi jurisdictional nightmare, and it hasn't really heated up yet. Believe me on that.
Nobody's getting anything done, Alex. Here's what I'd like you to consider."
My eyes rolled back. “I'm glad I'm sitting down for this,” I said.
"This is an excellent offer for a man in your position to consider.
Since you're already outside the multi jurisdictional mess, and therefore immune to it, why don't you keep it that way. Stay on the outside, and work directly with me."
“Work with the Federal Bureau?” I choked on my beer. “Collaborate with the Feebies?” “I can give you access to all the information we get, as soon as we get it. I'll give you everything you need in terms of resources and information and all of our current data.” “And you don't have to share anything I come up with? Not even with the local or state police?” I said.
Kyle had become his intense self again. "Look, Alex, this investigation is large and expensive, but it's getting nowhere.
Officers are falling over one another while women all over the South, including your niece, are disappearing right under our noses."
"I understand the problem, Kyle. Let me think about your solution.
Give me a little space on this one."
Kyle and I talked some more about his offer, and I was able to pin him down on a few specifics. Basically I was sold, though. Working with Kyle would give me access to a first-rate support team, and I'd have clout whenever I needed it. I wouldn't be alone anymore. We ordered burgers and more beers, and continued to talk and put the final touches on my deal with the Devil. For the first time since I'd come South, I was feeling a little hopeful.
“I do have something else to share with you,” I finally told him. “He dropped me a note last night. It was a nice note, thoughtful, welcoming me to the area.” “We know.” Kyle grinned like the grown-up Andy Hardy that he is. “It was a postcard, actually. It showed an odalisque, a love slave from a harem.”
Alex Cross 2 - Kiss the Girls
CHAPTER 32.
BY THE TIME I got back to my room it was a little late, but I called Nana and the kids, anyway. I always call home when I'm away, twice every day, morning and night. I hadn't missed yet, and didn't plan to start that night.
“Are you listening to Nana and being a good girl for a change?” I asked Jannie when she came on the phone.
“I'm always a good girl!” Jannie squealed with little-girl glee. She loves talking to me. I feel the same way about her. Amazing, we were still madly in love after five years together.
I closed my eyes and visualized my girl. I could just see her puffing out her little chest, making her face look defiant, but smiling pointy crooked teeth at the same time. Once, Naomi had been a sweet little girl like that. I remembered everything about those times. I chased away the thought, the vivid portrait of Scootchie.
“Well, how about your big brother? Damon says he's being especially good, too. He says Nana's called you ' holy terror' today. Is that so?” “Unh-uh, Daddy. That's what Nana called him. Damon's the holy terror in this house. I'm Nana's angel all the time. I'm Nana Mama's good girl angel. You can axt her.” “Uh-huh. That's good to hear,” I told my little spin-doctor. “Did you pull Damon's hair just a tiny bit at Roy Rogers junk-food restaurant today?” “Not junk food, pally-wally! He pulled my hair first. Damon almost pulled my hair out, like I was Baby Clare without her hair now.” Baby Clare had been Jannie's main doll since she was two years old. The doll was “her baby,” absolutely sacred to Jannie. Sacred to all of us.
Once we had left Baby Clare at Williamsburg during a day trip, and we had to drive all the way back. Magically, Clare was waiting for us at the front-gate office, having a nice chat with the security guard.
“I couldn't pull Damon's hair, anyway. He's almost bald, Daddy. Nana got him his summer haircut. Wait'll you see my bald brother. He's a pool ball!” I could hear her laughing. I could see Jannie laughing. In the background, Damon wanted the phone back. He wanted his rebuttal about the state of his haircut.
After I finished with the kids, I talked to Nana.
“How are you holding up, Alex?” She went right to the point, as she always does. She would have made an outstanding detective, or anything else she wanted to be. “Alex, I asked how you're doing?” “I'm doing just fine and dandy. Love my work,” I told her. “How are you, old woman?” “Never mind that. I could watch these children in my sleep. You don't sound good to me. You're not sleeping, and you haven't made a lot of progress, have you?” Man, she was tough when she wanted to be. “It's not going as well as I would have hoped,” I told her. “Something good might have just happened tonight.” “I know,” Nana said, "that's why you're calling up so late.