You've Been Warned - James Patterson [72]
Why, Michael, why? Don’t throw everything away. Don’t throw us away. Or the kids.
All I can see in my head are the images from the hotel, what was in my dream and what I captured on film. The procession of gurneys being wheeled out. And then — I think of my other time at the Fálcon. Three years ago with Boston Matthew. Coincidence? I doubt it. But I don’t want to think about it now. I couldn’t if I wanted to.
Hurry! Just hurry.
Stay in the moment.
I hear a siren warbling up ahead, and my heart sinks, my legs actually buckle, and I nearly fall.
I’m too late. I blew it.
No — it’s a fire engine heading downtown, a blur of red shooting by a block away on Madison. The blare of the siren trails off, restoring hope. What is with the Fálcon Hotel, anyway?
I’m almost there. The burn from my legs is moving up to my lungs. It feels like a load of bricks has been dumped on my chest. But I don’t dare stop running. Nothing can make me stop.
Then, something does.
Chapter 100
MY CELL PHONE RINGS.
Michael! This has to be him!
I cut sharply to my right on the sidewalk, pulling up alongside a building. Barely able to catch my breath, I answer the phone.
“Hello?”
It’s not him.
“Is this Kristin Burns?” I hear. It’s a woman. I don’t recognize the voice, but she sounds upset. Oh man, this is no time for more pranks from the dark side.
“Yes.”
“This is Madeline Sturges from Preston Academy. I’ve tried to reach both Mr. and Mrs. Turnbull. To no avail. And you’re listed here as another contact —”
“What’s wrong?” I interrupt.
There’s a silence, and I can practically feel the woman’s anxiety through the phone. “It’s Dakota,” she says. “She told a classmate that she needed to go find someone.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“She’s missing from school. We’ve looked everywhere. Dakota’s gone.”
The phone drops from my hand. Before it hits the sidewalk, I’m sprinting again. Faster than ever.
Four gurneys.
Please, God. Don’t let this happen. Not to Dakota. She’s only seven years old.
How could she know about the Fálcon or that her mother might be there? It doesn’t seem possible.
Yeah, just like everything else that’s happened so far.
The pathetic truth is — anything is possible right now.
Chapter 101
I’M CLOSE. The corner of the Fálcon is twenty . . . ten . . . five feet away. I squeeze my eyes shut, running blind. I can’t bear to look at this.
But I have to look, don’t I? I feel like I have no free will in this matter.
Racing around the corner, I brace for the worst shock of my life. The four body bags.
They aren’t there, thank God. Not yet, at least.
There’s no crime scene, no throng of onlookers. No Dakota either. Just the bright red awning of the Fálcon, pulling me in with its powerful undertow.
Seconds later, I burst through the front doors. Don’t let them be in the same room as before! It’s where Michael would surely look first. He knows the number. I told him.
Dashing through the lobby, I head straight for the elevators, only to see half a dozen people waiting there. Without breaking stride, I turn for the stairs, taking two at a time. I’m leaking buckets of sweat as I climb past the second and third floors.
Spilling out onto the fourth, I practically hurl myself down the long hallway.
It’s quiet.
Too quiet.
Never has a silence sounded so deadly, so haunting and eerie.
I pass one door after another until I reach the room Penley and Stephen were in. Their room. I come to a fast stop, and it’s as if I’ve given the pain of running here a chance to catch up. My legs and lungs feel like an inferno.
I see a “Do Not Disturb” sign that wasn’t there yesterday. Staring at it, I almost don’t notice the other thing that’s different.
The door’s open.
Just an inch, not even that. A small sliver of space between the door and the jamb. Slowly, I push my way in.
It’s no Motel 6. The room is more of a chic apartment. I step into a foyer with black-and-white tile like a chessboard. More games to play? For the first time, I hear something — a voice from around the corner.
It’s Stephen.
Is he laughing? Why