AFTER READING THE LETTER, I ran to my husband and threw my arms around him. Tears ran down my cheeks. I had had many teachers in my life, but none of them had taught me more about myself than the Assassin who had terrorized the D.C. area this past June. Ying Ming Lo had told me a willing student could learn from anyone. Pushed to the limit, I was a killer, too.
I was due for an extended vacation, so Keyth and I decided to take Savannah to San Francisco. We took her to all the sights in that international city. We ate lunch at Mister Big Stuff’s World Famous Barbecue every day. As I looked out at the bay, I could see Alcatraz, and I thought of the woman whom I had killed without mercy, just as she had asked. In a strange way, I missed her laugh and the games she had played with me. I still didn’t know if I was ready to leave the bureau, but I had been giving it a lot of thought.
After spending a week in San Francisco, we flew down to the City of Angels. I was going to do as Coco Nimburu had asked and deliver her remains to the Paramount Studios lot. She may have been a vicious killer, but she was right about one thing: Nobody’s innocent.