ABSOLUTE POWER By: DAVID BALDACCI

rambling here, Kate. Which way?”

“I’M sorry. Around the Capitol, over to Maryland and left on 3rd

Street.”

“You like that area?”

“On my salary, I like it just fine- Let me guess. You’re ABSOWTE POWEP,

* 83 Probably in Georgetown, right, one of those big federal Pr

‘th maid’s quarters townhouses with same placers He shrugged. haven’t

moved. I’m in the th all of your She stared at him. ,jack, what do you

do wi money I just don’t want that much,” He stared

“I buy what I want; , airy Queen butterscotch-dipped ack. ctHey, how

about a D

b ice cream cone”‘

this town, I’ve tried.” -There’s none to he had in the honkers, and

roared off He did a U-turn, grinned at didn’t try hard enough.”

“Apparently, counselor, you THIRTY MINUTES LATER HE PULLM INTO HER

PARKING LOT. HE ran around to help her out. The ankle had stiffened a

little more. The butterscotch cone was almost gone. -I’ll help you up.”

,you don’t have to.”

“I busted your ankle. Help me relieve some of my guilt.”

“I’ve got’it, Jack.” That tone was very familiar to him, even after four

years. He smiled wearily and stepped back.

lowly. He was get She was halfway up the stairs, moving sting back in

his car when she turned around.

“Jack?” He looked up. “Thanks for the ice cream.” She went into the

building.

Driving off, Jack did not see the man standing near the lit tie cluster

of trees at the entrance to the parking lot Luther emerged from the

shadows of the trees and looked up at the apartment building.

His appearance from two days ago had drastically His hair had been

changed. It was lucky his beard grew fast.

cut very short, and a hat covered what was left. Sunglasses obscured his

intense eyes and a bulky overcoat concealed the lean body one more time

before he left. He He had hoped to see her had been shocked to see Jack,

but that was all right. He liked Jack.

He huddled in his coat. The wind was picking up, and the chill was more

than Washington usually carried at this time of year. He stared up at

his daughter’s apartment window.

Apartment number fourteen. He knew it well; had even been inside it on a

number of occasions, unbeknownst to his daughter, of course. The

standard front-door lock was child’s play for him. It would’ve taken

longer for someone with a key to open it. He would sit in the chair in

her living roonj and look around at a hundred different things, all of

them carrying years of memories, some good times, but mostly

disappointments.

Sometimes he would just close his eyes and examine all the different

scents in the air. He knew what perfume she wore-very little and very

nondescript. Her furniture was big, solid and well-worn. Her

refrigerator was routinely empty. He cringed when he viewed the meager

and unhealthy contents of her cabinets. She kept things neat, but not

perfect; the place looked lived in as it should have.

And she got a lot of calls. He would listen to some of them leaving

messages. They made him wish she had picked a different line of work.

Being a criminal himself, he was well aware of the number of real crazy

bastards out there. But it was too late for him to recommend a career

change to his only child.

He knew that it was a strange relationship to have with one’s offspring,

but Luther figured that was about all he deserved. A vision of his wife

entered his mind; a woman who had loved him and stood by him all those

years and for what? For pain and misery. And then an early death after

she had arrived at her senses and divorced him. He wondered again, for

the hundredth time, why he had continued his criminal activities. It

certainly wasn’t the money. He had always lived simply; much of the

proceeds of his burglaries had been simply given away. His choice in

life had driven his wife mad with worry and forced his daughter from his

life. And for the hundredth time he came away with no compelling answer

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