Her voice trailed off. I smoothed her hair and put the back of my hand against her cheek. I've seen how fragile life can be, but it's not something you ever get used to, and it's different when it's somebody you care for, when it sticks this close to home.

"Will you stay with me, Alex? Until I fall asleep? Don't go."

It was her young girl's voice again. Kayla had never seemed as vulnerable to me as she did right then, in that fleeting moment in the recovery room. My heart broke for her and what had happened when she was trying to do some good out there.

"Of course," I said. "I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Chapter 77

"I'VE BEEN DEPRESSED for a while, as you know. You of all people know this."

"More than ten years. That's a while, I guess, Alex."

I sat across from my favorite doctor, my personal shrink, Adele Finaly. Adele is also my mentor from time to time. She's the one who encouraged me to start up my practice again, and she even got me a couple of patients. "Guinea pigs," she likes to call them.

"I need to tell you a few things that are bothering me a lot, Adele. This may require several hours."

"No problem." She shrugged. Adele has light-brown hair and is in her early forties, but she doesn't seem to have aged since we met. She isn't married right now, and every so often I think about the two of us together, but then I push it out of my mind. Way too dumb, too crazy.

"As long as you can fit several hours of your bullshit into fifty minutes," she continued, ever the wise girl, which is exactly the right tone to take with me.

"I can do that."

She nodded. "Better get going, then. I have the clock on you. It's ticking."

I started by telling her what had happened to Kayla and how I felt about it, including the fact that she had gone to her parents' home in North Carolina to recuperate. "I don't think it's my fault. So I'm not feeling guilty about the attack on Kayla… not directly anyway."

Adele couldn't help it, good as she is – her eyebrows rose and betrayed her inner thoughts. "And indirectly?"

My head moved up and down. "I do feel this generalized guilt – like I could have done something to stop the attack from happening."

"For instance?"

I smiled. Then so did Adele.

"Just to use one example, eliminating all of the crime in the DC area," I said.

"You're hiding behind your sense of humor again."

"Sure I am, and here's the really bad part. Rational as I make myself out to be, I am feeling some guilt over the fact that I could have protected Kayla somehow. And yes, I know how ridiculous that is, Adele. To think. And to say it out loud. But there it is anyway."

"Tell me more about this 'protection' you could have afforded to Kayla Coles somehow. I need to hear this, Alex."

"Don't rub it in. And I don't think I used the word protection."

"Actually, you did. Anyway, talk it out for me, please. You said you wanted to tell me everything. This is probably more important than you think."

"I couldn't have done a damn thing to help Kayla. Happy now?"

"I'm getting there," Adele said – then she waited for more from me.

"It all goes back to that night with Maria, of course. I was there. I watched her die in my arms. I couldn't do anything to save the woman I loved. I didn't do anything. I never even caught the son of a bitch who killed her."

Adele still said nothing.

"You know the worst thing? I'll always wonder if that bullet was meant for me. Maria turned into my arms… then she was hit."

We sat in silence for a long time then, even for us, and we're pretty good at enduring silences. I had never admitted that last part to Adele until now, never said it out loud to anybody.

"Adele, I'm going to change my life somehow."

She didn't say anything to that, either. Smart and tough, the way I like my shrinks, and what I aspire to be myself someday, when I grow the hell up.

"Don't you believe me?" I asked.

She finally spoke. "I want to believe you, Alex. Of course I do." Then she added, "Do you believe yourself? Do you think any of us can really change? Can you?"

"Yes," I told Adele. "I do believe I can change. But I get fooled a lot."

She laughed. We both did.

"I can't believe I pay for this shit," I finally said.

"Me either," said Adele. "But your time is up."

Chapter 78

LATER THAT AFTERNOON I found myself in St. Anthony's Church – St. Tony's, as I've called it since I was a kid growing up nearby in Nana's equally revered house. The church is about a block from the hospital where Maria died. I'd moved my spiritual care from head doctor to head of the universe, and I hoped it was an upgrade but figured it might not be.

I knelt in front of the altar and let the overly sweet smell of incense and the familiar scenes of the nativity and the crucifixion wash over me and do their dirty work. The most striking thing about beautiful churches, to me, is that they were mostly designed by people who were inspired by a belief in something larger and more important than themselves, and this is how I try to lead my own life. I gazed up at the altar, and a sigh escaped my lips. As far as God goes, I believe. It's as simple as that and always has been. I guess I feel it's a little odd, or presumptuous, to imagine that God thinks as we do; or that God has a big, kind human face; or that God is white, brown, black, yellow, green, whatever; or that God listens to our prayers at all times of the day or night, or anytime at all.

But I said a few prayers for Kayla in the front row of St. Tony's – asking not just that she would survive her wounds but that she would mend in other important ways. People react differently to life-threatening attacks on their persons, on their family members, on their homes. I know about that firsthand. And now, unfortunately, so did Kayla.

While I was in a prayerful mood, I said some private words for Maria, who had been in my thoughts so much lately.

I even talked to Maria, whatever that means. I hoped she liked the way I was raising the kids – a frequent subject between us. Then I said a prayer for Nana Mama and her fragile health; prayers for the kids; and even a few words for Rosie the Cat, who had been suffering from a severe cold, which I was afraid might be pneumonia. Don't let our cat die. Not now. Rosie is good people too.

Chapter 79

THE BUTCHER WAS in Georgetown to let off a little pent-up steam – otherwise things might not go so well when he got back to Caitlin and the kiddies, to his life on the straight and narrow. Actually, he had learned a long time ago that he enjoyed living a double life. Who the hell wouldn't?

Maybe another game of Red Light, Green Light was in order today. Why not? His war with Junior Maggione was creating a lot of stress for him.

The 3000 block of Q Street, where he walked briskly now, was nicely tree-lined and dominated by attractive town-houses and even larger manorlike homes. It was mostly an upscale residential area, and the parked cars spoke to the social status and tastes of those who lived here: several Mercedes, a Range Rover, a BMW, an Aston Martin, a shiny new Bentley or two.

For the most part, pedestrian traffic was limited to those entering and leaving their homes. Good deal for his purposes today. He had on earphones and was listening to a band from Scotland that he liked, Franz Ferdinand. Finally, though, he turned off the music and got serious.

At the redbrick home on the corner of Thirty-first and Q, some kind of elaborate dinner party was apparently being prepped for that evening. Assorted overpriced goodies were being transported from a stretch van marked "Georgetown Valet," and the faux gas lamps in front of the house were being tested by the yardmen. The lights seemed to work just fine. Twinkle, twinkle.