The server ushered Drayco to a table close to the edge of the rooftop terrace in Rosslyn. Due to the building height restrictions in the District, if he ever wanted a bird’s-eye view he always had to go across the river into Virginia.
His seat was next to one of the pyramidal space heaters that dotted the open-aired space like Egyptian obelisks in an urban oasis. Maybe future civilizations would one day dig up these heaters and wonder about their significance. A religious icon for worship? Geographical marker? A child’s toy? Well, this modern-day human was very grateful to benefit from their very mundane but welcoming warmth.
He absorbed the views, some of the nicest around even at night. Or maybe especially at night. You couldn’t see the National Mall in the dark from here. But there’s no way you’d miss the spotlights from the Capitol, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Washington Monument.
It was even easy to see where the Potomac River snaked through the darkened landscape because of the water’s lack of illumination. Hovering above the river was a moving stream of white landing lights and strobes from the planes on approach to National.
The views weren’t the only reason he chose this spot. It would be a lot harder for someone to jab a syringe into him up here, especially with witnesses. He still wasn’t sure if his situational awareness was back on track, so why tempt fate?
A pot of purple-ish things on the terrace floor also caught his attention. They looked like purple cabbages. He grabbed his cellphone to look them up. Ah. They were called Brassica oleracea, or ornamental kale. As he flipped through the details on his phone, someone plopped into the chair across from him.
Drayco’s jaw dropped as he noted his new companion. The man nonchalantly signaled to the server.
Brock asked Drayco, “You ordered yet?”
He shook his head.
“Great. My timing is perfect.” When the server arrived, Brock ordered some coffee “extra hot,” a pastrami on rye with Dijon mustard, and caramelized onions on the side.
Brock and the server looked expectantly at Drayco, who blurted out, “Make that two.” At least they’d both have onion breath. When he looked around and didn’t see a salt shaker, he added, “And some salt?”
After the server hustled off, Drayco rubbed his chin. “Are you following me?”
“I like this place a whole lot better than the last one.” Brock looked around at the view.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You were almost run over. And coming so soon after your kidnapping, I might add. By the way, I had to learn from Detective Halabi you might have been targeted, not Burdell.”
“Halabi? What, does he think he has to call the daddy on the wayward little boy who keeps getting into trouble?”
“For your information, the case of my own I’m working on has an Arlington connection. I’d rung up Halabi earlier about it. He was just returning my call.”
“Ah. I see.”
“What I want to know is, why did I have to hear about this from Halabi? Are you still upset with me after our little argument the other night?”
Drayco hit his shoulder on the seatback and tried not to wince. “Didn’t want to worry you. You’ve been a little smothering after the kidnapping. I don’t know who’s worse, you or Sarg.”
“Sarg. I’m a blood relative. Caring is supposed to be in my DNA. So how’s the case going? And by that, I mean I want to hear everything except any talk about Joyelle. Unless it’s to apologize for suspecting her motives.”
Drayco sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you everything. If you let me know where Joyelle was last night.”
The server arrived with the coffee, and Brock stirred in some sugar and cream before answering. “We did have plans. But she had to cancel when something came up. A deadline project she’s working on for a client, so don’t read anything into it.”
The cap on the salt shaker was loose, so Drayco ended up dumping more salt into his coffee than he’d planned. He took a sip and grimaced. “How can you be so sure about her?”
“You did profiling-type work in the Bureau. So did I. But I’ve been at this a lot longer than you have. I wish you’d give me some credit.”
Not wanting to start another argument, Drayco changed topics. “I might have neglected to tell you something else. Uncle Alistair called me. The day after our little outing to his island.”
Brock growled. “What did he say?”
“Not much. He admitted he was impressed with our snooping skills after getting past his security. But he hinted it wouldn’t be possible again.”
“He should thank us for showing up the weaknesses in his system.”
“In a back-handed sort of way, I think he was.”
After the sandwiches arrived, Drayco filled his father in on his case between bites, summarizing, “The motives are hazy, and the suspect list is short. First up, I’ll arrange to have a chat with Burdell’s ex-wife and his sister.”
Brock scooted his chair a little closer to the nearest heater. When he noticed Drayco’s half-eaten sandwich, he said, “Are you going to . . . ”
Drayco pushed over the plate, and Brock grabbed the sandwich and wolfed it down. He wiped his mouth and said, “This Burdell character. The odds of another hit-and-run at the same location are longer than me turning into a purple unicorn.”
“I’m convinced the two are linked. I just don’t know how yet.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Brock patted his stomach and then pointed at Drayco’s. “You getting enough to eat? You only ate half your meal. And you look thinner. Something wrong?”
“I had a late lunch.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I hoped it might help my perspective on things.”
“Don’t you usually play Bach for that?”
Drayco said, “Variety. Spice. Life.” He gestured toward the sky. “And stars. Sort of.”
“Hmm.” Brock pointed at one of them. “What’s that one?”
“Vega. Part of the constellation Lyra.”
“You could get a job in astronomy if you ever tire of the sleuthing racket.”
“Searching for black holes instead of blackguards?”
Brock chuckled. “You and Joyelle share the same sense of humor. I hope you can get to know her better. See her like I do.”
Drayco just nodded and took another sip of his salty coffee.
Brock stared up at the sky. “Your sister Casey loved to go stargazing.”
Drayco nodded. “One of our many shared interests. I suppose that happens even with fraternal twins.”
“I miss her terribly. I know you do, too. But you don’t have the regrets I do.”
“Regrets?”
“I wasn’t there for you or her as much as I should have been after Maura left us.” A hint of anger crept into his tone. “The little twelve-year-old girl needed her mother while she was battling cancer. But Maura never came back.”
“You know why, now.”
“Her reasons don’t matter. But I have little room to talk, right? I wasn’t the best substitute. I don’t know, Scott. Maybe it was Casey’s death that was the final straw. The thing that pushed me away from caring so much.”
“Yet you do care. You’re very passionate about your work. And you’ve done a lot of good through it.”
“But I know I’ve been a disappointment to you. That’s what matters the most.”
The server popped in again and took their dessert orders. When their tiramisu arrived, Drayco and his father ate it mostly in silence, gazing up at the stars, the few they could see through all the light pollution.
It surprised Drayco that his father remembered his Bach habit, but Brock was surprising him a lot lately. The little nagging feeling of guilt about Joyelle bubbled to the surface again. Maybe Joyelle was a second chance for Brock in more ways than one, something his father really needed in his life. So why couldn’t Drayco just let his suspicions go?