That caused a few of the customers to look, but most just smiled when they realized it was Danny.
Alex and Danny’s turn came moments later, and soon they were sitting at a table by the window, a hot serving of fries and sodas in front of them.
Alex watched her brother eat, enjoying the pleasure he took out of every bite. There were times when she wished they could talk about whatever came to mind, discuss science and politics, and, hell, even family. But they would never have that kind of relationship. Simple conversations were it with Danny. Anything more and he’d be lost.
As he chewed his fries, he rocked happily side to side. Alex knew he always had a song playing in his head. She wondered which one it was this time. Something from SpongeBob? A Christmas song? “The Hamster Dance”? They were all favorites.
It was at times like this she wished, if only for a little while, she could enter the world he lived in — the simple life he led, the easy joys, and, of course, the easy sorrows. Life where she had to live it was far more complicated. It made her tired just thinking about the difference.
When there were only a few fries left, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. “Danny.”
He looked up, grinning.
She smiled. “Good, huh?”
“Goooood,” he said, laughing.
“Not so loud, okay, buddy?”
“Not so loud. Sorry, Aleck.”
“It’s okay. I know you like them.”
Danny picked up another fry and dunked it in his glob of ketchup.
“Danny, look at me for a moment, okay?”
He stuck the fry in his mouth, then, in typical delayed fashion, he finally looked at her.
She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but knew it left a lot to be desired. “Look, I…I’m going on a trip. And I’m not sure how long I might be gone.”
Danny stared at her, his expression unchanged.
She paused. “Baseball this weekend, remember?”
His face lit up. “Baseball. We go.” He was a huge Baltimore Orioles fan. He didn’t always understand what was going on, but the pace of the game, coupled with the excitement of being in the stadium, was more than enough to make his day.
“I can’t, Danny. Not this weekend. I’ll take you when I come back.”
His smile faltered. “No baseball?” His eyes began to water, the easy sorrow settling in.
“Yes, baseball,” she said quickly, hoping to forestall the tears. “But not this weekend. When I come back.” She could see he was trying to understand, so she reached out and put a hand on his. “We’ll go. Don’t worry. We’ll go a lot this year, I promise. Just not this weekend.”
“Not this weekend.”
“Right.” She still wasn’t sure if he completely got it, but he didn’t cry, so she took that as a small victory.
“Where you go?” he asked.
“On a trip.”
He looked at her as if waiting for more. It was one of his traits that made her wonder at times if his comprehension was better than he let on.
Unable to resist his gaze, she said, “A business trip. Overseas.”
“Doing?” he asked.
“What I always do. Catching a bad guy.”
That usually made him laugh, but not this time. He picked up the last fry, dipped it several times in the ketchup, and set it back down without eating it.
Before she even realized it, the words were out of her mouth. “This person might know where Dad is.”
That did the trick. “Dad?”
She bit the inside of her mouth. “I don’t kn—”
“Dad here?”
“No. Dad’s not here. I don’t know where he is.”
“Trip to Dad?”
“No, I’m not going to see Dad. I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Mom with Dad?”
Alex’s heart clenched. It never failed. Every time she mentioned their father, Danny would eventually bring up their mom, too. “No, Danny. Mom’s gone. Remember?”
“With Dad?”
“No. Mom’s in heaven. Mom…Mom died a long time ago. You remember that. We buried her.”
Buried wasn’t exactly accurate. What they’d buried was an empty casket. Months later, they had been given a small box of ashes containing the remains of what had been found of their mother’s body after a bomb had taken her life. She had been a professor of anthropology at Georgetown University, and was in Lebanon on one of her many academic trips. The bomb had gone off outside a café, killing two others in addition to her. It was officially blamed on Hezbollah, just another moment of violence in a part of the world where it was commonplace. Since an American had died, it had received some attention in the States, but it was soon pushed to the side when a pair of planes smashed into the Twin Towers a couple days later.
Danny was smiling. “Mom in heaven, with angels.”
“Yes, with the angels.”
“Angels on the box,” he said.
“Angels on the box,” she repeated. It was something Danny always said when he talked about their mom. Alex had no idea where it had come from or what it might mean, but it seemed to give him comfort, and it always signaled that he was ready to talk about something else.
He picked up the remaining fry and finished it.
“You go see Dad,” he told her.
She sighed. “No, Danny. I’m not going to see Dad.”
“You go see Dad. Come back we go baseball.” He pointed at her, said, “Aleck,” then at himself, “Danny,” and finally past her toward the door, “and Dad.”
She couldn’t help but look over her shoulder, as if it were possible for her brother to conjure their father out of thin air, so the three of them could go to a ballgame like they used to do when she and Danny were kids.
But the doorway was empty.
“Baseball when I come back,” she said. “Now let’s get you home.”
Alex watched another episode of SpongeBob with her brother before hugging him goodbye and heading out to her car. She started the engine, but instead of heading out, she retrieved her phone and called McElroy.
“Okay,” she said once he was on the line.
“Okay what?”
“I’m in.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“You might want to write this down.”
She grabbed a notepad and pen out of the glove compartment. “Go.”
McElroy rattled off a set of directions. “Be there with your partner at eight a.m. tomorrow morning.”
“Are you going to tell me where this El-Hashim is now?”
“Not until I have your signed contracts in my hand. I’ll see you at eight.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Six
“Deuce, let’s go!” Alex yelled as she knocked on Deuce’s apartment door for a third time.
She heard something bang against it on the other side, then it jerked open.
“Chill, man. I’m ready,” he said. He was wearing cargo pants and a blue, unbuttoned short-sleeve shirt over a gray, Jack Daniel’s tank top.
“That’s what you’re wearing?”
He looked down at his clothes. “What? I didn’t get any notice about a dress code.”
Alex made no further comment. In truth, she was dressed only marginally better than he was — jeans and a black, long-sleeve T-shirt. No logo or picture, though.
They rode in silence through town and onto I-295. Joining the traffic moving southwest toward DC, Alex found herself thinking about her father. It was pretty much something she’d been doing nonstop since she’d said goodbye to Danny, and had made for a very rough, uneven night of sleep.
“Hello?” Deuce said. “Alex, you in there?”
She blinked and glanced over. “What?”
“I asked you a question.”
She looked back at the road. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”