'I'm sorry to bother you, Maggie, but I really need your help.' Nick couldn't seem to stand still, walking back and forth outside her door and constantly glancing down the hallway. The boy seemed to repeat Nick's actions though he stood still, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, perhaps prepared to run if necessary.
'What's wrong? Did something happen?'
'I don't know what to do. Timmy's disappeared.'
'What do you mean disappeared?'
'Before… when I was down in the gift shop… some guy… I'm not sure who. He called our suite. Gibson says the guy told Timmy _ '
'Wait a minute,' she interrupted. 'Timmy was here with you at the hotel?'
'Yeah. I asked him and Gibson to spend the night. But when I was getting junk food in the gift shop some guy called. Gibson said he claimed he was the desk clerk and told Timmy I needed him to meet me in the lobby.'
Maggie immediately thought of Keller as Nick continued his explanation.
'But you see, earlier today there was this guy __ ' He stopped, looked both ways again and leaned closer, lowering his voice. 'A guy from the archdiocese office, a Brother Sebastian looking for Timmy and Gibson. I think he may have taken Timmy somewhere.'
'The archdiocese office? Why would someone from the archdiocese take Timmy?' Nick wasn't making any sense.
'The boys have something the archbishop might want,' he whispered.
She looked at the boy, Gibson, and he met her eyes briefly before he looked away and stared at his scuffed tennis shoes.
'It's a very long story,' Nick told her, glancing back at Gibson. 'I'm not sure I understand it all. They've been playing some sort of Internet game where they had to submit the name of a priest.' He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. 'It all sounds crazy.'
'It's not crazy,' she said with a sinking feeling. 'And Timmy submitted Father Michael Keller's name.'
Nick stopped and stared at her. Gibson did, too. 'How did you know?'
'I don't have time to explain. He's here,' she told them and closed the door to her suite, joining them in the hallway. 'Who's here?'
'Keller.' She wanted to kick herself because she was the one who'd kept forcing Keller to think about who may have submitted his name. How could she be so stupid?
'Why the hell is Father Keller back in Omaha?' He sounded angry but Maggie recognized it as panic.
'You need to call Detective Pakula,' she told him as she tucked her hand inside her jacket, readjusting her shoulder holster. Gibson's eyes grew wide when he saw the gun. Nick didn't move. 'Go back to your room, Nick, and call Detective Pakula.'
'You think he has Timmy, don't you?' It didn't help matters to lie to him. 'Yes, I do.' 'And you know exactly what room he's in?' This time she hesitated before she said, 'Yes, I do.' 'Then let's go,' and he started down the hallway. 'You're not a law enforcement officer anymore, Nick,' she said to his back and didn't follow.
'But I'm his uncle. And you're wasting time.' 'No, you're wasting time by arguing with me.' 'Gibson can call Pakula, right, buddy? You don't mind, do you?' Nick put his hand on the boy's shoulder as if only now realizing that he had someone else to worry about besides Timmy.
'You're not coming with me, Nick. And the longer you argue with me the longer Timmy is with Keller.'
'Damn it, Maggie.' He turned and slammed the same hand that had been on Gibson's shoulder against the hallway wall. At the end of the hall a woman opened her hotel-room door, peeked out and shut the door. 'Okay,' he finally said. 'You win.'
She left them there, walking away quickly and not glancing back. She expected footsteps and was relieved when she heard a door open and close. But she knew Nick might try to follow her. She turned the corner to the elevators but ducked into the stairwell instead, gently closing the door behind her. She wouldn't be able to get back onto any of the floors and need to go all the way down to the lobby, but at least Nick wouldn't be able to race to the elevator and watch at which floor it let her off.
She'd go down to the lobby and take a different elevator to the fourth floor. And hopefully when she got to Keller's room it wouldn't be too late.
CHAPTER 88
Father Michael Keller listened to Timmy talk about the Explorers' Summer Program he was taking. He had gone into great detail describing the swords and ceremonial cups and musical instruments his new teacher had on display in her classroom. He told Timmy what he knew about the Crusades and the early Catholic Church's attempt to spread Christianity even if it meant slaughtering thousands.
They talked about the Black Plague and the Knights Templar. They drank three-dollar Cokes from the minibar until there were none left and they devoured a can of Pringles, several candy bars and a jar of Gummi Bears.
Keller wasn't sure how much time had passed. It didn't matter. The digitalis had relieved him of most of his symptoms, though he still felt a bit feverish. The throbbing hadn't begun. The boy had begun to trust him. He had made a phone call to his own room's voice-messaging service, and while Timmy believed Keller was talking to his uncle Nick, he actually talked over the menu telling him how to access his voice mail. As long as Timmy believed he was in contact with his uncle he didn't seem to question the delay.
A loud knock on the door startled both of them.
Keller thought it might be someone from the hotel, perhaps bringing the extra towels he had requested when he knew he'd be inviting Timmy back to his suite, when he knew there would be a bit of a mess to clean up. He checked the peephole but no one was there. He started to open the door, when it swung open, slamming into his nose and knocking him back against the wall.
He couldn't see through the blur and grabbed his nose, his hand filling with blood. The sting spiderwebbed across his face. Someone shoved him into the wall and he felt the gun muzzle against his temple just as he heard the door slam shut.
'Don't move, you bastard,' came a woman's voice he quickly identified. 'I'd like nothing better than to blow your brains all over this room.'
'Hello, Agent O'Dell.' He tried to sound calm but the blood was trickling down his throat now. He hated tasting his own blood. It started to panic him, reminding him too much of his stepfather.
'Hey, what's going on?' He heard Timmy yell from the other side of the room.
'Stay over there, Timmy,' she said. 'Do you remember me? Maggie O'Dell.'
'Yeah, I remember. I saw you at school the other day.'
'You need to stay over there, Timmy,' she repeated and tightened her grip on Keller's arm. Only then did the pain make him realize she had twisted his left arm up against his back.
'You can relax, Agent O'Dell,' he said, hating the catch in his voice telegraphing his fear. Now that his vision was no longer blurred, he noticed the blood running between his fingers and down his arm. The sight of his own blood made him nauseous and a bit light-headed.
'Like hell I will,' she hissed in his ear and the muzzle pressed farther into his skull.
'But Agent O'Dell,' Timmy said, 'I don't understand. He's with the Omaha police.'
'Is that what he told you?'
'The boy misunderstood,' Keller tried to explain, despite his arm being yanked even higher up his back. He could feel the texture of the cheap wallpaper scrape against his cheek, and again, a memory flooded back to him of his stepfather shoving him against another wall, all those years ago. It made him angry. But it also scared him. 'I only said that I was working with the Omaha Police Department.' He spit out blood but more trickled down his throat and the taste almost made him gag.
'Did he hurt you, Timmy?'
'Hurt me?'
'Are you okay?'
