Double Take - Catherine Coulter [110]
“That sounds like a Mason’s ring to me,” Tuck said. “You really saw that, Alice? You’re not making that up?”
“I saw it, Friar, I really saw it.”
Tuck said to Savich, “Thing is, I’ve got a Mason’s ring, she’s seen it a million times. No, I’m not wearing it today, my arthritis is kicking up.”
“Yes, it was a lot like yours, Friar, I promise.”
“Well,” Sherlock said five minutes later as she climbed into the passenger side of her dad’s Beemer, “do you think she made up the Masonic ring?”
“We might as well go with it, or at least with a ring on the guy’s wedding finger that maybe looks a bit different.” He smiled. “Cute kid. That hair of hers was so blond it was nearly white. Now, we know the guy with the ring had some hair, but we don’t know what color. And he was old or he was young, depending on whether you are seven or eighty.”
Sherlock said, “If Makepeace was cursing back at the guy who was driving and yelling at him, then it doesn’t seem likely the driver was the one who imported him to kill Julia. He sounds more like a local Makepeace hired to help him today. I’m thinking what happened was more than the guy bargained for, got him really scared.”
Savich said. “We’ll see what the canvassing officers have come up with.”
Sherlock gave him a big smile and ran a finger down her face. “So, I guess Alice was right, and it’s time to go play in the shower?”
Savich grinned, showing white teeth, just about the only white showing in his face. He covered her filthy hand with his, pressing her palm hard against his leg. “This was too close, Sherlock.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what you always say.” She leaned over and kissed him, saw he was still thinking of what could have happened. “I like having you around, Dillon. If you hadn’t yelled for me to hit the deck right before the bomb exploded, I might have gotten whacked by some flying stairpost. But we’re all right, Julia and Cheney are all right, the cops are all right. Hey, I wonder if my underwear’s black.”
“I’ll let you know,” Savich said, and released a pent-up breath.
When he pulled into the Sherlocks’ driveway, he saw Ruth standing in the open front door, waving at them.
“What now?” Savich asked the rhododendron bushes, and followed Sherlock to the house.
CHAPTER 52
Savich and Sherlock got off the elevator at Stanford Hospital and headed toward the ICU. A police officer sitting in a chair in the unit outside Golden’s door eyed them up and down as they approached, then slowly nodded and rose, even before they had their shields out.
“Officer—Lazarus, I’m Agent Savich,” Savich said and shook his hand. “This is Agent Sherlock. Anything happening we should know about?”
“No, sir, everything’s calm now. But before—everyone thought she was dying. The doctors and nurses, they really moved fast.”
Savich’s heart sped up again, remembering how he’d felt when Ruth had told them Kathryn Golden’s heart had failed. But she was okay now, thank the good Lord.
“The neurologist is with Ms. Golden. I heard him assuring everyone she was stable now. Lieutenant Ramirez and one of his detectives left about five minutes ago. He didn’t look very happy, what with her still unconscious.”
“Any problem with the media?” Sherlock asked.
Officer Lazarus gave her a manic grin. “Yeah, I’ve booted out three or four of the varmints since I’ve been here. They’re sure having a good time, what with the bomb exploding at the Mariner, and Ms. Golden being a psychic and all, it means they have more to report about than the hike in our parking meter rates. Hope you find the guy who did this.”
When Savich quietly opened the door, he saw an older man wearing a white coat, his shoulders a bit stooped, his stethoscope pressed against Kathryn Golden’s chest. After he jotted something in her chart, he looked up at them and frowned.
“You just came from the Mariner?”
“How can you tell?” Sherlock asked him,