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Gage and Cal jumped off their father’s knee, raced to their sister, and grabbed at her legs. Gage pulled on her hand. “Emmie, what’s wrong?”
Savich saw the panicked look leave her face. She went down on her knees and hugged the twins close. “There’s nothing wrong, guys. Mama’s just a little bit late. Let’s go back and listen to your book, okay?”
Savich said to her, adult to adult, “Emma, if you would please keep an eye on the twins, your dad and I will go downstairs and see where they are. No need to worry yet.”
Emma started to open her mouth but her father said, “Em, we’re going to have a division of labor here. Here’s my phone. Please, watch Cal and Gage and listen to their book with them.”
Mason and Elizabeth Beatrice both rose. “I’m going with you.” He turned to his bride, whispered close to her ear, “Please, my darling, stay with Emma, keep them all calm.” He saw she was ready to argue and added, “Please.”
Savich said, “Emma, we’ll probably meet your mom and Sherlock in the lobby,” but she didn’t believe him, not for a second. Their cell phones were two blocks away. Elizabeth Beatrice didn’t believe him, either, but someone had to watch the twins, so they held their peace.
Just as Ramsey was leaving the suite, Cal called out, “Papa, will Mama have our trail mix?”
He turned. “I’m going to fetch her and your trail mix now, Cal. Take care of Emma and Elizabeth Beatrice, and don’t let Gage tear up the furniture.”
Gage shouted, “I don’t want to listen to the dragons, Papa. I want to go with you to get Mama.”
Elizabeth Beatrice said, “Please stay with Emma and me, Gage. We want to play with your new trains.” There was a moment of silence, and then Gage said, “Okay, but I wish Sean was here. He had to go to church with his grandma.”
The three men were alone on the elevator for only a few floors before two couples got in, laughing, talking, making plans for lunch. Forever passed before they finally got to the lobby. Savich knew he shouldn’t jump to the worst thing possible, but he knew Sherlock well enough to know she wouldn’t have let this happen, knew it all the way to his lizard brain. Something had happened beyond her control.
They left the hotel and followed Savich’s location signal together, finding both cell phones two blocks away in a gutter next to the curb. Molly’s phone wouldn’t turn on, Sherlock’s was cracked but working. There was nothing else, no sign of a struggle. The phones had been thrown away so they couldn’t be tracked.
When they got back to the hotel, Savich sent Mason inside to speak to the concierge and reception. Savich and Ramsey stayed outside to speak to the two doormen. Savich showed each doorman his creds, simply folded Ramsey in. They showed them cell-phone photos of Molly and Sherlock. No luck. Neither remembered them, but they said a third doorman was on break if they wanted to ask him. They found the man in the hotel gift shop.
“Why, yes, sir, Agents,” C. J. Clooney told them. “Just a little while ago, less than half an hour. Couldn’t forget two pretty redheads. They were with two guys, walked with them across the street and got in the back of a limousine.”
Savich felt fear hit deep. He’d hoped, prayed, when Sherlock hadn’t answered, but Emma was right, both Sherlock and Molly had been taken.
Savich wondered if C. J. Clooney could hear his heart beating a mad tattoo. He said, “Could you tell us what the men looked like?”
“Well, now, that’s harder,” Clooney said, as they walked back into the lobby. “I remember both had dark hair, black suits, you know, the sort aides and bodyguards wear, and they were standing really close to the redheads, actually behind them, all the way across the street.”
Ramsey said, “Did you see anyone inside the limo? Waiting?”
Mason came out of the Hay Adams, shook his head at Savich, and joined them. Clooney hummed a moment, scratched his ear. “I can’t make any promises, I mean, it was only for a moment, but I’m pretty sure I saw a white guy in the limo, you know, on the back-facing seat. I remember thinking he looked like a ghost against all the black, but I really wasn’t paying all that much attention and I could be wrong. We’re always rushing around here in the mornings, with everyone leaving.”
Mason said, “Do you remember anything about the limo that would help identify it?”
“It was a rental, I do know that. I’ve seen that small red logo before.”
They asked him more questions, until Savich knew the well was dry. He thanked Mr. Clooney and Mason gave him a hundred-dollar bill wrapped around his card. “Mr. Clooney, if you think of anything else at all that could possibly be helpful, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course, sir! Thank you, sir!”
Clooney hurried off to help a portly senior and a woman hovering close by with three large pink suitcases.
Ramsey was shaken, but he kept his voice flat, repeated Savich’s own thought to him. “Emma was right. They couldn’t get to her, so they took Sherlock and Molly.”
“It’s that little shite Shaker,” Mason said. “The bastard’s broken the truce. I really believed he cared about his miserable hide more than getting back at me. He’s just signed his death warrant.”
Savich laid his hand on Mason’s arm. Mason looked down at the big tough hand, calmed. He said, “I know our best chance to find them is right now, while they’re still close.”
Savich nodded. “We can deal with whoever is responsible later.”
Ramsey felt fear swallowing him whole. His hands flexed and unflexed at his sides. All he could see was Molly—hurt maybe, scared, and he wasn’t there with her. But Sherlock was. She was smart, resourceful... but who was he kidding? It wouldn’t matter if the National Guard was with her if they had no weapons.
Savich knew he had to step back, put away his fear, and think logically, as he would with any kidnapping. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Think.
