AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And not a good driver to be attempting them. Kathryn Dance had her talents but motoring wasn't one of them.
"Where are you, Michael?"
"Twenty minutes. There's a cruiser there now. CHP happened to be nearby."
"I'll be there in three."
Whoa, a faint skid and a blare of horn. You're allowed to honk angrily at a large Nissan SUV straying over the centerline toward you, even if there is a flashing blue light on the dashboard.
She tossed the phone on the seat next to her. Get serious here.
Bounding into the lower lot at the inn, the Pathfinder sped up to the Highway Patrol trooper, dressed crisp, as they always looked, standing next to the Pacific Grove cop, whom she knew.
"Charlie."
"Kathryn."
"Agent Dance," the CHP trooper said. "I got the call. This is the Solitude Creek suspect?"
"We think so. Where is he?"
Charlie offered, "Headed inside just after he parked. He didn't make me, I'm sure."
"Where's the car?"
"Follow me."
They eased along the path, through gardens of pine and succulents. They paused behind a large bush.
The silver Honda was parked near the loading dock of the large hotel, a stone-and-glass structure that featured about two hundred rooms. The dining room was top-notch and on Sunday it did a huge brunch business. Dance and her late husband, Bill, had come here several times for romantic busman's holiday weekends while Stuart and Edie kept the kids.
Two more patrol cars pulled up, quiet, with three MCSO deputies inside. Dance waved them over. Another car arrived. O'Neil. He climbed out and hurried along the path, joining his fellow officers.
"There's the car." Dance pointed.
O'Neil glanced at her and then said to the others: "What he's going to rig, incendiaries, flash bangs, whatever it is, probably isn't life threatening itself. That's not what turns him on. He wants to kill with the panic, people trampling each other. But remember, at Bay View he was armed. Nine mil. Plenty of ammo."
The officers nodded. One cinched up his body armor. Another absently brushed the Glock sitting high on his hip.
They started to leave and go inside.
Which is when, with a whump, rather quiet actually, the Honda began to burn. In seconds the fire began to rage. The device, whatever it might be, was in the trunk. Just above the gas tank. Dance imagined the unsub had drilled or punched a hole into it, to accelerate the fire.
Dance then noticed smoke being drawn into the HVAC system, just like at Solitude Creek.
"The inn's exit doors--he's probably wired them shut. Get 'em open, now! All of them."
Chapter 61
Always happened, the orderly reflected.
The two elevators in this part of Monterey Bay Hospital were pretty dependable. But what happens, a woman comes in, contractions counting down, and car number one is out of commission.
"You'll be fine," the thirty-five-year-old career medical worker told her. He turned his kind face, under a fringe of curly hair, toward her.
"Ah, ah, ah. Thanks. My husband's on his way." Gasp. "Oh, my."
The orderly had been on duty since 5:00 a.m. He was beat. Sundays were the days of rest for almost everybody--but not hospital workers. He eased the wheelchair a bit closer to the door, through the group of eight or nine visitors and medicos waiting for the car. He didn't think there'd be any problem with getting on the next ride, though. They weren't about to deliver.
