Deadly Doubles

Chapter Seventeen

The world seemed to turn upside down in front of Nancy’s eyes. Then it righted itself. Just as at that moment on the tennis court, she saw the danger and knew the only thing to do.

“George! Call the senator’s office. Tell them she’s on the hit list. Dan, come on!” Nancy dashed for the door.

George was already on the phone.

“Where are we going?” Dan demanded as he and Nancy ran down the corridor.

“To find my dad. I know the places he likes to eat in D.C.” Not waiting for the elevator, Nancy lunged for the emergency stairs and went down them two at a time.

Dan reached his car and unlocked the doors. “I’m driving,” Nancy announced. “You get on the phone with the feds,” she ordered Dan.

Dan tossed over the keys and jumped into the passenger seat. The phone beeped as Nancy jerked the car out of its parking space and catapulted it up the runway.

She was barely conscious of Dan’s voice speaking tersely into the phone receiver. Nancy’s eyes were on the road, which was already gilded with sunlight. Her mind clicked along like a computer.

She knew that Senator Kilpatrick had scheduled an eight o’clock video press conference in her office. That meant Carson Drew must have taken her to eat somewhere nearby. Someplace he liked near the Capitol and the Senate Office Building. Someplace he knew would be very quiet and private.

“Tell the feds to check the Monocle! And the American Café!” Nancy shouted.

She floored the gas pedal as she roared north on Washington Street. Horns honked. Somewhere behind them a siren sounded.

Dan broke his phone connection and beeped his own police station. He identified himself and his car license number crisply. “Requesting black-and-white on our tail. Repeat, request escort immediately.” Dan gave a code number that Nancy guessed meant urgent security business.

Almost at once the police car fell into place behind them, its siren magically clearing the way in front. “Heading into D.C.,” Dan said into the telephone as Nancy shot onto the road leading to the Arlington Memorial Bridge. And then, “Where to?”

“I don’t know.” All Nancy knew was that something was driving her, as if the car and her subconscious had one common will. “The Watergate, I guess. Just in case. It’s closest-”

Golden sun sparkled on the Potomac and on the white marble of the statues as they tore across the bridge. The Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts shimmered peacefully in the sunlight. The curved lines of the Watergate’s many balconies glistened.

They careened to a stop at the hotel entrance, and Dan leaned out. “Seen Senator Kilpatrick this morning?” he called to a uniformed doorman.

“Negative. Nobody important stirring around here yet. I just checked.” The doorman indicated a tiny radio concealed in his hand.

Dan waved to him and pulled his head in again. “Government security, undercover, on account of the San Carlos crowd in town,” he told Nancy.

The phone beeped. Dan flipped the loudspeaker button, so the voice echoed tinnily through the car. “Negative on American Café and Monocle. Lady’s own guards can’t find her. She pulled a cute stunt and shook them. Don’t know who she’s with, but they must have wanted to be real private.”

Privacy was one thing, but Nancy had a feeling El Morro was not as easy to elude as the senator’s own security people.

Suddenly Nancy let out a cry. Her right hand found the emergency brake and jerked it free as her right foot slammed down again on the gas pedal.

The car leaped forward.

“Where?” Dan yelled.

“The Hay-Adams Hotel! Dad was there last trip-the first time he’d seen it since it was restored. He said something about how beautiful it was, and convenient-and what a good place to have a conference, because you couldn’t be overheard by other tables-”

“Got that?” Dan shouted into the phone. “Left at the next corner, then right at the next light,” he ordered Nancy.

Nancy followed his instructions. Out of nowhere, another police car appeared and fell in before them, clearing their way. Nancy’s hands were frozen on the steering wheel. She took the right turn on two tires.

They raced through central Washington. The historic Hay-Adams Hotel loomed ahead of them. Nancy screeched to a stop, burning rubber against the curb.

As fast as Dan and the other police were getting out of their cars, Nancy was faster. She raced across the sidewalk, almost knocking down two people who were in her way. Then she ran through the entrance doors, through the lobby, and past a sign directing patrons to a breakfast buffet. Nancy’s lungs burned as she exploded into the high-ceilinged serenity of the Victorian restaurant.

Her eyes swept the room. Suddenly she thought her heart would burst with gratitude. There was Senator Kilpatrick, in a pale gray suit, reaching for her attaché case as Carson Drew rose to pull out her chair.

Something dazzled, the way something had dazzled at the tennis court-

Nancy did not risk the split-second to look for the location of the gun barrel.

“Dad! Get down!” she screamed.