Free Crossroads Revisited by Keta Diablo Page B

his hands through his
hair and swore. For good measure he cursed again. “Fuck!”
    Frank bolted for the coffee table and flipped open
his cell. Answer, Emily, goddamn it, please pick up.
    It went to voice mail. “This is Emily. I’m sorry I
can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message, and I’ll call you
back as soon as possible.”
    “Em, pick up the phone. God, please, he’s got Rand.”
    Frank took the stairs to the underground level two
at a time, jumped behind the wheel of the Denali and barely cleared the garage
door speeding out. He dialed Hayworth’s number, driving ninety miles an hour
toward the hotel.
    The agent’s voice loomed groggy on the other end.
“Hayworth.”
    “He’s got Rand.”
    “McGuire?”
    “Meet me at the hotel. Emily Brennan’s not picking
up her cell.”
    “Right, I’m on my way.”
    Adrenaline pumped through his veins, pitching his
heart into a frenetic rhythm. A mishmash of impressions crept from the recesses
of his brain, the bones again and another object, shiny, long and sharp. “Come
on, tell me, what is it? Flash one more time, please just one more time.” Frank
took the corner on two wheels and the snapshot blinked on the screen. He cried
out, “A saw, okay, I see it. A crosscut saw.”
    Hayworth made it to the Inntowner before Frank.
Emily rushed into his arms the moment he stepped from his vehicle. “Rand’s not
with you?” She grabbed Frank by the front of his shirt and shook him, her
high-pitched hysterics echoing through the air. “He’s not with you? Oh, God.
No!”
    “Slow down, Em. Back up. Where’s the car, did he go
somewhere?”
    She shook her head, and when Frank glanced at
Marlow, a dazed look shone in her eyes. “Mom and I went into the room after
dinner, and Rand said he’d move the car to the back parking lot. He thought it
would be less noticeable.” Marlow doubled over and clutched her stomach. “He
never came back.”
    Frank looked at Hayworth. “It’s not here. I drove
through the back lot and the front on my way in.”
    A high-pitched wail fell from Em’s lips as she
collapsed against Frank’s chest. “He’s got him, oh my God, he took him!”
    Frank pushed her from him gently. “Em, listen to me
now. This is very important.”
    She nodded on a series of sobs.
    “Do you know who took him?”
    “Not yet, but I’m close. Listen to me now, Emily,
concentrate.”
    “All right, Frank. I’ll try, but I can’t think
straight.”
    “On the way here, images of bones appeared and next
a saw.”
    She shook her head. “My son is gone and you’re
talking to me about saws and bones?”
    He slapped his forehead. “Yes! That’s it,
Emily—sawbones. That’s what they used to call a physician.” Frank nearly danced
a jig. “It makes sense, it’s coming to me now.”
    “Frank?” she said, drawing her brows together.
    “One day, you and I were talking on the phone and
someone came to your door.”
    A dazed look crossed her eyes.
    “A man, a teacher. He brought Rand’s notebook to
you; said Rand left it on his desk. Who, Em? What is his name?”
    “Oh, God, I can’t think…Doctor something. His
anatomy teacher.” She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand
and shook her head as if to clear it. “Mc-McBride, that’s it, Donald McBride.”
    Hayworth had the phone to his ear, talking some
strange code to a central database only the FBI had privy to.  Within seconds,
he scratched down an address, ripped it off the pad, and handed it Frank.
    Frank called out over his shoulder and sprinted
toward the Denali. “Send back-up, Hayworth.”
    “McGuire, wait, I’ll ride with you.”
    “No, you might stop me from killing someone. Call
for back up and meet me there.”

 
     
     
    Chapter
Nine
     
     
     
    Rand shivered from the cold.
    An ether-like odor clung to his
nostrils, and his lips tasted sweet when he ran his tongue over them. He
recognized the