Finally got to rest up, to stop being a cop for a while. Kyle Craig was in a maximum security cell at Lorton Prison. The district attorney was confident there was more than enough evidence to convict. Kyle’s expensive New York lawyer was screaming that he had committed no crimes, that he’d been framed. Isn’t that amazing? The murder trial would be one of the biggest that Washington and the rest of the country had ever seen.  The thing was, I didn’t want to think about Kyle, or his trial, or some other psychopathic killer anymore. I hadn’t been to work in weeks, and it felt good. I felt real good. My ice pick wound was healing pretty well. The scar would be a souvenir. I was spending as much time as I could at home. I’d put on most of a new roof. I’d been to two of Damon’s concerts in a row. I was on a roll.  I was working on a jump shot with Jannie; reading Goodnight Moon and Fox in Socks to little Alex; taking cooking lessons from the best chef in all of Washington, or so Nana bragged. I was also making some time for myself. I’d even had a couple of nice talks ............