First Daughter

On his way up the front steps, Jack noticed the Secret Service vehicle parked down the block, in front of the neighboring house. From that vantage point, the detail had an ideal view of the front and side of the house.

Jack padded into the kitchen, put the Chinese takeout on the counter. When he returned to the living room, he went over to the old stereo, selected a vinyl disc, put it on the turntable. A moment later, Muddy Waters began to sing "Long Distance Call."

Alli began a slow circuit, stopping here and there to peer at a photo, a book, a row of album covers. She ran her fingertips over an old guitar of Gus's, a stack of Jack's individually cased Silver Age comics of Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, and Dr. Strange. His stacks of videocassettes of old TV shows.

"Wow! This place is exactly the way Emma described it."

"She seemed to like it here."

"Oh, she did." Alli looked through the cassettes of The Dick Van Dyke Show, Sea Hunt, Have Gun-Will Travel, The Bob Newhart Show. "She liked to come here when you weren't here. To be alone."

"What did she do here?"

Alli shrugged. "Du

Jack, watching her, experienced a piercingly bittersweet moment, because as happy as he was to have her here, her presence-in a way that was most immediate, most painful-served to remind him of what he could have had with Emma. At the same time, he was overcome with a feeling of protectiveness toward her.

It had taken him some time after Emma's death to realize that the world had changed: it would never again feel safe, never have the comfort it had held when Emma was alive. Its color had changed, as if cloaked in mourning.

And there was something else. Through Alli, he was coming closer to Emma, he was begi

"Abbott and Costello." Alli was holding a cassette aloft. "Can we watch this? Emma talked about them, but I've never seen them."

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Jack turned on the TV, slid the cassette in the slot. They watched "The Susqueha

So, to sum up, at great jeopardy to himself, Kray had abducted Alli Carson from the grounds of Langley Fields. If it wasn't to kill her or to torture her, then what was his motive? And why had he abandoned her? Had they been lucky, had he simply been shopping for supplies when he and Nina raided the house? Could he have been tipped off? But how, and by whom? The more Jack worked the puzzle over, the more convinced he was that Alli was the key. He had to get her to talk.

When he came downstairs, she was sitting on the sofa.

"Sorry I freaked out," she said.

"Forget it," Jack said. "You hungry?"

"Not really."

"Let's have something anyway." Jack padded into the kitchen. Alli was right behind him. She helped him open the cartons, spoon out the food onto plates. Jack showed her where the silverware was, and she laid out neat place settings.

Alli was a carnivore, so Jack had ordered spare ribs, lacquered a deep-red, beef chow fun, roast pork fried rice, gai lan in garlic sauce.

Apart from the sticky ribs, they both used the wooden chopsticks that came packaged with the meal. Alli looked as if she'd been born with them between her fingers. Jack had been taught by Emma.

"I used to be a vegetarian, but that was before I met Emma." She managed a wistful smile. "She could eat more pork than anyone I ever met." She swirled the glistening noodles around with her chopsticks. "I made fun of her, you know? And she asked me why I was a vegetarian. So I told her about how animals are treated, and then slaughtered, all of that. She laughed and said if that was my reason for not eating meat, I was a hypocrite. 'Can I borrow your suede jacket? How about your leather skirt, or one of your belts? And how many pairs of plastic shoes do you own?' She told me about how small farms are breeding cows, pigs, sheep, chickens in humane ways. She told me about slow farming, sustainable methodology, hormone-free raising. She said if I wanted to be a vegetarian that was my business, but that I ought to do it for the right reason. She was so damn smart. She'd done her research, instead of just spouting talking points like me. What really amazed me about her was that she never made a choice just for the hell of it. There was always a reason behind what she did."

Who was this girl he was hearing about? "It never seemed like that to Sharon and me. All we saw was chaos and rebellion."

"Yeah, well, there was that, too."

"I wish I'd taken the time to see more."

"Well, it might not have mattered."

"What d'you mean?"

"Emma was a master in letting you see what she wanted you to see, and nothing more." Alli pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them. "I'll tell you how it started with me. Emma didn't have a lot of friends. It wasn't because other girls didn't try. They did. Everyone wanted to hang with her, but Emma didn't want any part of a pack, even though it would've been so easy for her to be a leader. See, she saw herself in a totally different light. We both saw ourselves as being different, Outsiders, you know, with a capital O."

The fact that his daughter had lived with the same sense of being an Outsider that Jack had lived with all his life shocked him to his core. Or maybe, if he was honest with himself, what shocked him was that he hadn't recognized her as being an Outsider.

"The thing for me was that I always thought my being an Outsider was because of my father's political ambitions," Alli went on. "From as far back as I can remember, all he talked about, all he pla

"Anyway, it was Emma who made me realize that being an Outsider had nothing to do with my father; it came from inside myself."

Old Muddy had segued into the slow, rueful "My Home Is in the Delta," one of Gus's favorite tracks.

He said, "So Emma thought of herself as an Outsider."

"She didn't just think it," Alli said at once. "She was an Outsider."

Jack shook his head. "I'm not sure I understand."