Eleventh Hour

Savich said, “I called Jimmy Maitland and told him what they showed, asked him to rattle some cages, find out how this happened. The thing is—where did they get the photo of Nick and Dane? To be honest, it seems to me like a plant. I think someone sent the photo in along with specifics.”

“The murderer,” Dane said, and looked over at Nick, who hadn’t said a word. “Who else would have?”

Flynn said, “You’re right. If a reporter had found them, he would have shot some video, not just taken a photo of them, so maybe Dane’s right, it was the murderer.”

Dane said, “Actually, that’s not what’s so bad about all this.” He sat forward as Nick grabbed his arm.

“No, Dane, don’t.”

He ignored her. “Nick was in the homeless shelter in San Francisco because she’s running from something or someone she hasn’t told any of us about. So I think she’s got two people after her, both dangerous. Being on TV was the worst thing that could have happened to her.”

Sherlock said, “Okay, Nick, then it’s time for you to level with us. We’re the Feds. The perfect audience. Flynn and Delion are locals, but they aren’t bad either, what with all the sugar they eat. We will do everything we can for you, count on it. Now talk.”

Nick actually smiled. “Thank you, Sherlock, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

Savich said, “We could lock you up, you know.”

“No, you can’t,” Nick said. “I made a deal with Delion and Dane. Leave me alone. This is over.” Then she simply pushed back her chair and walked out of the room.

“Well, hell,” Dane said, and shoved back his chair to go after her.

“Not to worry,” said Gil Rainy. He spoke into his cell phone. “She won’t get out of the office.”

Flynn said, “But we can’t hold her, can we?”

“Sure,” Delion said. “She’s a material witness, in the flesh.”

They heard some orders, a yell, and furniture crashing over. They ran out of the conference room to see four male agents holding Nick’s arms and hands, trying to protect themselves. That left her the furniture to kick, which she was doing. She’d lost control. She was fighting as if her life depended on it. Dane realized he’d pushed too hard, but he hadn’t felt he’d had a choice.

Delion yelled, “Don’t hurt her, dammit!”

Three chairs lay on their sides, and a computer monitor was hanging off the edge of a desk. An agent grabbed it just in time.

“Give her to me,” Dane said, although he knew she’d try to kill him, too. The agents gladly handed her over. This time she didn’t bite him, she tried to kick him in the groin. He heard Rainy yell, “Hey, not that!” as he quickly turned to the side, just in time, and her knee struck his thigh. He pulled her back against him and closed his arms around her body, pinning her arms to her sides, her legs against his, giving her no leverage at all. But she just wouldn’t stop. She heaved and jerked and didn’t make a sound.

“Hey,” Dane said finally, “anybody got any handcuffs?”

“Don’t you dare, you jerk,” Nick said.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Listen to me, Nick. You are not going to die, at least not in my lifetime. You really might try for a little trust here.” He shook her again. Rainy handed him a pair of cuffs. Dane jerked her arms behind her and cuffed her.

He thought she was going to explode. She kicked and bit and twisted until Sherlock walked right up to her, got in her face, and said, “Stop it, Nick, or I’m going to belt you. The men won’t because you’re a woman. You’re really pushing me here.”

Nick believed her. She got control of herself, but it took a bit of time before the hideous panic subsided. She was white, shaking, her breath coming in gulps. “Don’t hit me, Sherlock,” she said, and just went limp. Sherlock held her up.

“Somebody give me the key to these ridiculous handcuffs.”

One of the agents tossed Sherlock the keys. She opened them up, slipped them off, and rubbed Nick’s wrists. Sherlock said, “Okay, don’t you move or I’ll coldcock you. Now, Nick—”

Dane said, “Her name’s Nicola. At least she told me that much. And she’s a Ph.D.—medieval history.”

Nick lunged for him. Sherlock grabbed her and managed to hold her, as Nick yelled, “You just had to blab it, didn’t you, Dane Carver? I’m going to bite you again really good, when you least expect it, damn your eyes, just like I did this morning when you were half-naked and I bit your shoulder!”