London Bridges: A Novel
that she'd lost some weight, what with all her running around and do-gooding in the neighborhood and elsewhere. The truth was, she looked better than ever. I almost felt embarrassed to have noticed.
    “What are you standing there gawking at?” Nana asked. “Sit down and join us.”
    “I have to go,” Kayla said, and stood up from the couch. “It is late, even for me.”
    “Don't let me break up the party,” I protested. Suddenly I didn't want Kayla to leave. I wanted to talk about something other than the Wolf and the terror attacks that had been threatened.
    “You're not breaking up the party, Alex. Wouldn't happen. But I still have two more house calls to make.”
    I looked at my watch. “Two more calls at this hour? You're something else. Wow. You're crazy, you know that?” I grinned.
    “Maybe I am,” Kayla said, and shrugged. “Probably true.” Then she kissed Nana with obvious affection. “You take care. Blood tests. Don't forget.”
    “My memory is fine.”
    When she was gone, Nana said to me, “Kayla Coles is something else, Alex. And you know what? I think that one reason she comes around here is to see you. That's my cockeyed theory, anyway, and I'm sticking with it.”
    The thought had occurred to me, too. “Then why does she leave so fast when I get here?”
    Nana frowned and raised an eyebrow at me. “Maybe it's because you never ask her to stay. Maybe it's because you gawk at her when she's here. Why is that? You know, she just could be the one for you. Don't argue with me. She scares you, and that might be a good thing.”
    I thought about it, and I didn't have a response. It had been a long day and my brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. “So you're okay?” I asked Nana. “You're sure you're feeling all right?”
    “Alex, I'm eighty-three years old. More or less. How okay can I be?” she asked. Then Nana kissed me on the cheek and headed off to bed.
    “You're not getting any younger yourself,” she turned and chirped over her shoulder.
    Good one, Nana.

Alex Cross 10 - London Bridges

Chapter 38
    Not everyone was headed off to bed yet that night. The night was still young in some quarters.
    The Weasel had never been any good at controlling his so-called baser desires and physical needs. This fact scared him sometimes, because it was an obvious weakness and vulnerability, but it also turned him on. The danger, the adrenaline rush. Actually, it made him feel more alive than anything else in his life. When he went for the kill, he felt so good, so powerful, that it took over everything and he lost himself completely in the moment.
    Shafer knew Washington, D.C., very well from his earlier posting at the British embassy, and he knew the poorer sections, because it was where he had hunted most often in the past.
    The Weasel was hunting tonight. And he was feeling alive again, that his life had a purpose.
    He drove a black Mercury Cougar along South Capitol. A cool drizzle was falling, and there were only a couple of skanks walking the streets. But one of the girls had already caught his eye.
    He cruised around the block a couple of times, checking her out in the most obvious ways, playing at being a john.
    He finally slowed the Cougar beside a petite black girl showing off her wares near the hot Nation nightclub. She wore a silver bustier, matching short skirt, and platform heels.
    The very best part: he had been instructed to go hunting in Washington tonight. He was following orders from the Wolf. Just doing his job.
    The young black girl thrust her chest forward provocatively as he leaned across the front seat to talk to her. She probably thought that her pert young nipples put her in control of the situation. This encounter will be interesting, he was thinking. Shafer had on a wig, and he had colored his face and hands black. A dumb old rock tune was playing inside his head: “The name of the song is I like it like that.”
    “Those real?” he asked as the girl leaned in

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