Ali Cross by James Patterson Read Online (FREE)
Originally published: November 25, 2019
Author: James Patterson
Read Ali Cross by James Patterson full novel online free here.
IT HAD BEEN three days since my friend disappeared and I was starting to think the worst might have happened.
The last time I’d seen him was on Friday, December 21st, just after 3:30 p.m. That was on the sidewalk in front of Washington Latin Middle School where Gabe and I were in the same class. We’d just gotten out for winter break, and as far as I was concerned, I knew exactly how we were going to kick it off.
“So I’ll see you tonight at seven,” I’d said. The plan was to get online with our usual crew and start a marathon session of Outpost, our favorite game.
“Just try and stop me,” Gabe had joked.
That was it. Then he’d turned east on E Street and started walking home. I’d turned west and done the same. I didn’t even think about it. Why would I? Who ever thinks, “maybe that’s the last time I’ll ever see my friend”?
But Gabe never did make it home that day. He wasn’t picking up his phone, and he hadn’t answered any of the half-million texts I’d sent him, either. Now it was Christmas Eve. Three days had gone by, and it was like Gabe had just disappeared.
Except, see, that’s the thing. People don’t just disappear. There’s always an explanation. That’s what my dad says, and he should know. His name is Alex Cross. He’s a homicide detective with the Washington DC police, and I’ll tell you this much: I hope I can be half the detective he is someday.
In the meantime, I couldn’t stop thinking about Gabe. Couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to him. Couldn’t stop a whole lot of really bad thoughts from passing through my brain, like one scary movie after another.
In fact, if anyone had asked me, I would have told them there was only one thing I wanted for Christmas that year. I wanted Gabe Qualls to be found.
And I mean alive.
“ALI? COME ON, little brother. Heads up. You’re on.”
I guess I got lost in my own thoughts for a second there. It happens all the time. We were in church for Christmas Eve services. I looked around and realized my older brother, Damon, wasn’t the only one giving me the eyeball. St. Anthony’s Church was packed, and I guess Father Bernadin had already introduced me while I was sitting there spacing out.
“Let’s try that again,” Father Bernadin said in his Haitian accent, and with a kind of impatient smile aimed my way. “The annual Christmas Eve children’s prayer will be led by our own Ali Cross tonight. Ali, would you like to come up?”
The pastor moved aside for me as I stepped up to the old wooden lectern and looked out at the congregation, a whole sea of black faces like mine. Something like four hundred pairs of eyes looked back, waiting for me to get my act together.