The Cross mansion was located just north of Mount Vernon and sandwiched between Route One and the Potomac River. The rolling riverfront land in this area was premium and beyond expensive. A half acre could run millions. The Cross family owned six acres along the river. If you have to ask about the land’s cost, then you can’t afford it, Malcolm mused. Garrison drove down a gravel driveway lined with cypress. “Easy to imagine we’ve left the real world.” Malcolm shook his head. “I know the rich put their pants on just like me, but they are a different breed of cat. They live in a rarified league of their own.” “They make their own rules.” Hostility rarely crept into Garrison’s voice as it did now. “I guess from your tone you and Eva are still on the outs?” “She won’t talk to me.” “Go by King’s and see her.” “I did. She wasn’t there. King said she took a couple of days off to finish a paper. She’ll be in tonight.” “And?” “And one way or another she’s going to tell me what’s eating her.”
