Whiplash

"This is Bowie. Have you seen Agent Sherlock? Okay, is Mrs. Royal there? I want you guys to keep an eye out. We'll see you as soon as we can. What? Okay, check out that telephone number right now and get back to me. Kel, put an APB out on Jane Ann Royal. Wait, Sherlock asked me where Millstone was. That's it, she went to Millstone. But-"

Erin grabbed his hand. "Georgie's out of school in ten minutes. We can't leave her standing there. What are we going to do?"

He thought a moment, then speed-dialed the police station. He looked over to see Erin rotating her shoulders, easing the strain. He said as the phone was ringing, "Erin, you've got to drive, that okay with your back? I've got lots more calls to make." When he connected with Agent Cliff, he asked quickly, "Dolores, do you have any idea where Agent Sherlock is?"

Bowie jumped into the passenger seat, tucked the phone under his chin, and managed to fasten his seat belt as Dolores said, "She said something about a Mick Haggarty, and I gave her his address in Millstone. Who is that, Bowie? She didn't tell me."

Bowie said, "Mick Haggarty?"

Erin nearly side-swiped a light blue Honda as she turned onto Maple Avenue. "Mick Haggarty is Jane Ann's tennis instructor, the one she told Sherlock and me she was thinking about sleeping with. Sherlock must think he knows something."

Bowie said to Dolores, "Give me Mick Haggarty's address. Okay, yeah, got it. Now, important-would you go to Winston Elementary School and pick up Georgie? Then take her back to the police station with you, keep an eye on her?"

"Sure thing, Bowie."

He asked her, "Who else is there?"

"Cody and Graham. Kesselring left maybe an hour ago. He said he had things to do and he didn't need any assistance, but he wasn't specific."

"All right. But I told Graham he was to stick close to Kesselring, not let him roam around loose."

"You could have asked me, Bowie. I've got perspective now, really. He's just another pretty face, right? He's kind of stiff, too, charming because he knows that works for him, but that's on the surface. I don't think down deep he's really that friendly."

"Where are Dieffendorf and Gerlach?"

"They're at the Schiffer Hartwin headquarters with their lawyers and two DOJ attorneys. Do you want the local cops to go to Mick Haggarty's apartment in Millstone?"

"Yes, but have them wait outside for us. Erin and I are heading there now. If Agent Sherlock calls, have her call me pronto. And run a location check on Sherlock's phone. It's in use and I want to know where it is."

Erin took the backroads to Millstone. They were more than five minutes away when Bowie's cell phone belted out "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town."

"You and those Christmas carols." Erin shook her head. "Alvin and the Chipmunks, I haven't heard them in years." She listened to the chipmunks as she watched Bowie reach into his jacket pocket, come away empty, then dive into his pants pocket and pull out the cell.

"Thanks, Dolores. We're on our way." He shook his head, then punched off his cell and turned to Erin. "The phone's in Millstone. Somewhere near Haggarty's apartment."

Erin pressed down on the accelerator.

57

"Agent Sherlock? Are you here? Are you all right?"

It was Andreas Kesselring's voice. In that instant everything shifted into place in Sherlock's mind. She'd tried and tried to connect the dots, but they wouldn't fit together until she heard his voice and realized they'd all been suckered by another cop.

At least she'd had the sense to ask Kel Lewis to check Jane Ann's phone records-she'd had this gut feeling, she just hadn't realized the who. Too bad it was a little late now.

He called out again in his smooth deep voice, "Agent Sherlock? Are you in here? Did those criminals tape your mouth? I got them both. You're safe now. You can come out."

Sherlock knew all he had to do was look over maybe twelve feet and he'd see the duct tape lying on the floor. She waited, silent as a stone, her Lady Colt at the ready, her left hand clutching the butcher knife. He had to come closer. Come here, Andreas, come to Mama.

"Ah, I see you got yourself free. That's great, won't you come out now? Why are you hiding from me? We'll go down to the police station and you can question Mrs. Royal and that tennis pro boyfriend of hers. I've got them restrained just outside. What a pair, they've been talking over each other, each claiming the other is to blame."

Sherlock peeked through the small space between two plastic garment bags. Kesselring wasn't wearing a beautiful Armani suit today, no, he was transformed, wearing a baseball cap and a dark blue jacket, jeans and boots, his arms at his sides. Was that a gun in his right hand, pressed against his leg? Yes. He had a much better chance of shooting her dead than she would have getting off any kind of shot that counted. Her Lady Colt was an up-close gun, and Kesselring was at least forty feet away. No way could she disable him enough from this distance unless she was very lucky. And at the moment, she didn't put much stock in her luck. He stood there, not moving, not stepping any deeper into the storage room. And Jane Ann and Mick Haggarty were probably waiting just outside that door, waiting for a signal from Kesselring. To tell them what? That he'd killed her? How was she going to get past them all?