“Yeah, we just drove up.”
“Okay, you’re going to meet a Lieutenant Ramirez of the Palo Alto PD. I told him a good bit, but not all of it.”
Dix said, “It’s obvious Ramirez has already set things up here. He’s got plainclothes cops searching around the hotel. We were talking—what if Makepeace is setting a trap in some other way?”
A bomb, Savich thought, Dix meant a bomb. He said slowly, “Makepeace would have to have contacts to purchase explosives, if that’s what you’re thinking. It could be anything. Tell Ramirez to be very careful.”
‘All light. The doorman’s looking nervous. He knows something’s going on. Can’t anybody keep a lid on things?”
“You know that’s impossible. You keep your eyes open, Dix.”
Savich heard Dix speaking, and then Ruth said something to the valet.
Dix said, “Okay, we’re walking into the lobby. There’s Ramirez, trying to look like he’s waiting for his damned luggage or something. He might as well be wearing a sign around his neck that says Hey, I’m a cop. I’ve got to go, Savich. I’ll call you as soon as we’ve got Golden.”
Savich didn’t even bother to question himself about it. He simply thought, Kathryn, Dix Noble and Ruth Warnecki are on their way up to your room with the local Palo Alto police. You’ll be fine.
Savich was disgusted with himself. Why had he believed for a single instant that she’d heard him?
He pictured Makepeace jumping out of the elevator at them, mowing them down, and dialed Dix’s cell again. He couldn’t help it, he had to talk to him again. He pressed harder on the accelerator. The Beemer shot forward. They were still about a half hour away.
Dix said, “Savich, stop your worrying. We’re being very careful, everyone is. No sign yet of Makepeace. We’re going into the room now.” Savich heard a door open.
“We’re in the room. Kathryn Golden’s in the middle of the room, tied to a chair. She’s gagged. Let me get to her, just a second—”
“Dix—”
Savich heard a loud explosion.
He frantically dialed Dix’s cell again.
There was no answer.
He dialed Ruth’s cell.
He got voice mail.
Kathryn!
There was no answer.
CHAPTER 48
A frightened young voice answered on the tenth ring at the Mariner Hotel. “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you. There’s been an explosion, someone tried to blow up the hotel. I’ve got—”
“Don’t hang up! I’m the FBI. What’s your name?”
“I’m Melissa Granby, sir—Agent Sir.”
“Take a deep breath, Melissa. That’s good. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
“A couple of seconds ago this guy—he said his name was Makepeace—he called us, said a bomb was going off in the hotel in Room 415. Then there was this loud explosion, and everyone’s screaming, guests are running down the stairs, it’s crazy—”
“Stay with me here, Melissa, slow down. You’re doing fine. Are there any police there?”
“Police? Yes, I see a uniformed guy running toward the stairs.”
“This is critical. Stop him. Now.”
Bless her young heart, he heard the yells, the running, the panic in the background, then he heard her shouting above them all for the officer to stop.
A few seconds later, a man’s impatient voice came on the line. “Who the hell is this? You better really be FBI and not some dumb-ass reporter.”
“Yes, I’m FBI, Agent Dillon Savich. I’m in on the operation with Lieutenant Ramirez. Please go straight up to Room 415, then call my cell and tell me what’s going on.” Savich gave him the cell number. “What’s your name?”
“Officer Clooney.”
“Officer Clooney, please hurry.”
There was nothing more Savich could do except speed, which he did. He felt Sherlock’s hand close around his. She said, “I’ve got our I.D. ready to shove in a cop’s face if we’re stopped.”
Savich let the Beemer ease up to ninety. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “I was afraid of a bomb, but there wasn’t time—damnation, I should have gotten bomb squads there straight off, bomb-spotting equipment—”
“Yeah, yeah, maybe we’d have had them in a couple of hours, which we didn’t have. Stop beating up on yourself. Concentrate on getting us there safely.”
“You’re right. But Dix and Ruth—Kathryn Golden—”