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“I know,” I said. “Just the same, thank you for saving me. And Sampson. And those kids.”

Tears welled in his eyes. He hung his head and shook it.

“What’s the matter, Charlie?”

He choked down a sob. “Feels like Nana Mama’s saving me all over again.”

“Course she is, brother,” I said, getting misty-eyed and reaching over to hug him. “It’s what she does.”

103

AFTER HELPING MY BROTHER check into rehab to begin ninety days of treatment, I drove back to DC.

On the way I called Ellen, Charlie’s ex, and told her what had happened and where Charlie was. She sounded relieved and then moved when I described what a hero he’d been, how he’d taken on a former Special Forces operator and saved multiple lives, mine included.

She cried a little. Ellen said she wished him well and was proud that Charlie was at long last trying to recover. When I hung up, I decided that the tide had turned, and it felt damn good.

Ned Mahoney called as I neared Washington to tell me that Egon Bijan was actually Egon Brezec, a Chechen national with deep organized crime ties in Georgia and Belarus. Using a second alias and a legitimate UAE passport, he’d come into the United States through Canada fourteen months ago.

“And Tatiana Volt?”

“We got warrants for her home, offices, and accounts, impounded her jet, and seized her phone and passports,” Mahoney said.

“All good, but I’d have her under twenty-four-hour surveillance.”

“She’s barred from leaving the country.”

“Just the same. Bree says the woman is very slippery.”

“And the FBI is relentless. Talk soon. Give my best to Nana.”

He hung up, and I pulled into the garage at Metro headquarters downtown. Chief Kane stopped me when I passed his office upstairs.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Cross,” Kane grumbled. “You are suspended pending an investigation of the shooting at your home and the events at that condemned building.”

“I’m just here to meet Sampson,” I told him. “We’ll write up our reports for you, then clear our desks so no one else has to do it. Since you’re already shorthanded with Hayes and Winthrop on suspension, we figured it would help.”

Kane paused, then said, “Be quick.”

I found John Sampson at his desk, adding documents to the Firebug murder books.

“Done with your report on O’Hare?” I asked, sitting down across from him.

“I am,” he said. “Charlie?”

“Officially in rehab.”

“Good news.”

“It is, and I talked to Nana Mama last night about Sean Brundage. She wants to pay for his rehab too, if he’ll go.”

“That is also good news,” John said. “Want more?”

“Definitely. I feel like a glutton for good news today.”

Sampson smiled. “Anna Stein’s kids are going to Chicago with Boog and his mother. Nelly Bogner really does have a well-paying singing gig waiting for her, and she already rented an apartment. Emma and Luke have an aunt, Anna’s sister, in the area, and she’s agreed to take them in. They won’t be far from Boog. They might even end up in the same school.”

“That is a heaping plate of good news,” I said. “I was praying that something positive would finally happen in their young lives.”