Backfire
Page 82Eve said, “Cindy Cahill told us the man who’s been trying to kill you is called Xian Xu. He’s Chinese American, born in Indiana, and looks as WASP as you do. Dillon and Sherlock are trying to track him down. I don’t suppose the name means anything to you?”
“Not any more than the name Xu by itself,” Ramsey said. “If they can find him, maybe I can start making some plans to get out of here and back to work.”
“We should get him now, Judge Hunt,” Harry said. “He won’t come after you again.” Ramsey stared from Harry to Eve, considering that, and Eve said, “Hey, do you think you’ll be going home in time for Thanksgiving?”
Ramsey became aware that the pain meds were tugging on his brain, and evidently his hearing as well, because he thought in that moment that Eve had a beautiful speaking voice. He forgot about Thanksgiving, forgot everything but her voice. He stared up at Eve. “You ever have voice lessons?”
“Me? Goodness, talk about playing a rusty saw. That’s what my vocal cords feel like. Ramsey, have you had your pain meds recently?”
“Well, yes, a couple of minutes ago. You’re lucky I’m still awake.”
She took his hand, squeezed it. “Hey, Haloran. If you want to play more poker with Judge Hunt, now’s the time.”
—
“We’ve got him! Amazing what a difference that picture made.”
Sherlock said, “Let me put my cell on speaker, Griffin. Okay, make our day.”
“Xu’s here at the Fairmont Hotel. The registration clerk on duty recognized him after studying the photo. She was used to seeing him in sunglasses and his ball cap, but this morning, he came trooping out of the restaurant after he’d had breakfast and asked the concierge a question. She said good morning to him. He said good morning back to her and smiled. She added he had a very nice smile. So it appears our Mr. Xu either forgot his sunglasses or he didn’t care this morning about hiding his face from prying eyes. Maybe he doesn’t intend to stay much longer.”
They cheered loud enough for Griffin to grin. The guard at the hospital video console turned toward them and toasted them with his coffee, since they looked ready to high-five the world.
Sherlock said, “Griffin, you’re a genius. I worship at your feet. Tell us everything.”
“He’s not at the hotel now. The registration clerk told us the last time she saw him, he was headed toward the hotel front doors.”
Savich asked, “Griffin, did the registration clerk say he was carrying anything, like luggage?”
Savich said, “If he believes Cindy is dead, he may think his job here is done. He could have put his luggage in his car before he went in to breakfast. Griffin, speak to the concierge. Find out what question Xu asked.”
Griffin was back on the line in a minute. “The concierge who spoke to Xu is off-duty. I’ll try his cell to see if he remembers what Xu wanted. I’ll get back to you.”
Savich said, “Griffin, stay around the lobby. If Xu comes back, call us, but don’t try to apprehend him, okay? How many agents are with you?”
“There are two of us.”
“Make sure you all look like happy tourists. Cheney or I will call you.”
When he punched off his cell, Savich said, “I’m thinking keep it simple. We wait for him in his room, that way there’s no chance of any bystanders getting hurt.”
Sherlock cocked her head at Dillon. “Do you think he’s leaving for good?”
“I would bet he knows Cindy is alive by now, and of course Ramsey is, too. Do you think he’s giving up on it all, running?”
“Nothing he does would surprise me. There are only three places we know he might go—back to the Fairmont, one of the airports, or here, the hospital.”
“He’s got to know we’re ready for him here, Dillon, and that Ramsey and Cindy Cahill are well protected,” Sherlock said.
“So was Ramsey in the elevator. Call Eve, have her alert the deputies with Ramsey. Something big is going to happen today. We just don’t know where.”