F Wilson - Implant

Futile to dally here any longer.

But what next? Where next? He couldn't quit now. Too much hung in the balance. As he headed for his car, he made a last-ditch effort by experimenting with a little mental exercise.

If I were Gin, and I were still in the vicinity, where could I possibly be? Where could I have hidden this long?

He rolled the question through his mind as he walked along the north end of the square. He was turning down K Street when the marquee of the Tremont Hotel caught his eye.

He paused, shook his head, took a few more steps, then stopped at the curb and stared . He''d noticed it before, but . . .

Could she have rented a hotel room? Not likely. He could see the possibility of her running in there, renting a room, and using it as a safe place to meet with her FBI man. But obviously she hadn't done that, or else Agent Canney wouldn't have been wandering around Farragut Square like a lost soul a little while ago. And Duncan couldn't see Gin holing up there by herself all afternoon watching television.

But still . . . it was one place he hadn't checked out. It wouldn't take him long. What were a few more minutes added to all the time he'd already wasted?

He entered the lobby and strolled toward the registration desk. The young man behind the counter looked at him expectantly. Duncan debated how he should pose his questions about her, then realized that no decent hotel gave out guest room numbers.

He smiled at the desk man whose badge said Roy. "House Roy pointed to the far corner of the lobby. "Right over there, by the big fern, just past the elevators." Duncan nodded his thanks. He found the row of phones and dialed "O" on the nearest.

When the operator answered, he said, "Panzella room please, " and was startled when she thanked him and connected him.

Stunned, he listened to the phone ring, wondering what he was going to say. He realized he could say nothing. He couldn't let her know he'd found her.

He hung up and leaned against the wall.

She's here.

She'd probably been here all day. But what had she been doing all this time? And why had she registered under her own name? Such a dumb thing to do, and Gin was anything but dumb.

It didn't matter. None of it mattered except the fact that he'd found her. All he needed now was her room number. He glanced over at the registration desk. Roy was alone there. Would a hundred-dollar bill, ?

And then the revolving doors began to move and Special Agent Canney strode into the lobby. Startled, Duncan froze, his heart pounding.

No! Not when I'm so close!

He ducked behind the large fern and peered through the branches.

Canney was showing his ID to the desk man and talking fast. He looked agitated.

Apparently Gin had finally got in touch with him. But if so, why was he showing his ID?

What did it matter? Duncan realized that a solution had just presented itself. The elevators were only a few feet away. Canney would go up to Gin's room and bring her down, or perhaps call her to come down and meet him. Either way, she'd have to pass close to Duncan's position.

He removed the transducer from his pocket. She'd be in range She'd feel a twinge in her thigh, but that would be it. She'd probably get all the way to the FBBuilding before the TPD kicked in.

All he had to do was wait. He'd been waiting all day. He could wait a little longer.

"I want her room number, and I want the key, and I want them now! " Gerry said.

The desk man had called out the manager, Joel Heinrich, according to his name tag. A fussy little man with a thin mustache "I'm sure you need a warrant for that kind of search. I'm certainly not authorized to barge into a guest's room, " "Dr. Panzella has not been well lately, " Gerry said, improvising.

"She's not answering her phone. She may be unconscious." That got him.

"Sick? " The fussy manager evaporated. "You mean with something contagious? " Gerry lowered his voice and moved in for the kill. "We don't know. We hope not. Something went wrong at the lab. We want to find her and quarantine her with as little fuss as possible, if you know what I mean." Heinrich knew exactly what Gerry meant. He nodded curtly and reached for his phone. "Very well. Just let me check her room once." He punched in four numbers, listened for a moment, then hung up.

"She might simply have gone out to eat."

"Let's hope so, " Gerry said, but didn't mean it He wanted to find Gin and settle this mess.

"If that's the case, I'll wait down here for her return." Heinrich searched the key rack, selected one, then pointed across the lobby.

"I'll meet you by the elevators." A few minutes later they were on the fifth floor and Heinrich was knocking on the door to 532. Gerry hovered impatiently behind him, anxious to get in there, yet dreading what he might find.

"Dr. Panzella) Dr. Panzella, this is the manager." No reply.

Please, God, nothing nasty, Gerry thought as Heinrich fitted the key into the lock. Please.

As soon as he heard the latch click, Gerry pushed past him and barged inside.

"Wait here." The lights were on. A half-eaten burger and fries swam in spilled cola on a rolling cart by the rumpled, empty bed.

"Gin? " He stepped into the bathroom. An iron fist slammed into his chest at the sight of the bloody razor blade by the sink. He stepped closer and the red in the tub caught his eye. He groaned. The porcelain was splattered up and down with blood.

Christ, what happened here?

He put a hand out and leaned against the wall for support as he dragged his gaze from the tub back to the sink counter. The bloody razor, and bottles of alcohol and peroxide as well, and a needle and thread . .

.

a bloody needle.

First some fantasy about the president having surgery, now . . .

this.

Whatever it was.

"Aw, Gin, " he whispered. "Gin, Gin, what have you done? " He stepped back into the other room and found Heinrich standing there, looking bewildered.

'"Is something wrong? Is she here? " Gerry brushed past him and checked the closet. Empty. A glance at the bed told him there wasn't room to hide under the box spring.

'"She's gone. ' He propelled Heinrich out into the hall.

I ' "Look. I want this room sealed. No one, no one, is to go in there.

Not housekeeping, not room service, not you, not anybody. Is that cl ear? " '"But why? " '"For the moment I'm treating it as a crime scene. So if that room is disturbed in the least, I'll have you up on charges of obstruction of justice and accessory after the fact. Do we understand each other? " '"Yes. Yes, certainly. ' Heinrich pulled the DO NOT DISTURB sign from inside the door and hung it on the outside knob. Then he closed the door and rattled it to make sure it was locked.

'"I'll leave word that 552 is off-limits until further notice. " "Good." Yeah, good. Fine. Heinrich knew what he had to do. But what was Gerry's next move? He was worried sick. What had she done to herself in that bathroom? And where was she now?

He had to find her. And soon. If it wasn't already too late.

Something's wrong.

Duncan was baffled and disappointed when Canney returned to the lobby without Gin, but then he noticed his grave expression and agitated manner and knew he hadn't found what he'd expected in Gin's room. Or had he found more than he'd expected?

Duncan wished he had a key to that room. What had Canney seen up there?

Just one look was all he asked.

"Any questions? " he heard Canney say to the manager. "You've got her description and you've got my card. Any one sees her, you call me right away. Clear? " The manager nodded and mumbled something that Duncan missed. It wasn't important. What mattered was that Gin wasn't here. She'd left without checking out. And Canney didn't expect her back soon, otherwise he'd be hanging around.