The Last Templar

Chapter 33

A gale of dread blew through Reilly as he listened, his ear glued to his phone. "Tess? Tess!"

His calls remained unanswered, and then the line abruptly cut off.

He immediately hit the redial button, but after four rings, her recorded voice came up and asked him to leave a message. Another re-dial produced the same result.

Something's wrong. Something's very wrong.

He'd seen that Tess had called, but she hadn't left a message and had already left the office by the time he'd tried calling her back. He wasn't sure about how far he wanted to push her Templar angle anyway. He had felt awkward, almost embarrassed to have brought it up at the meeting with the rest of the team and the monsignor. Still, he had called her office bright and early and spoken to Lizzie Harding, her secretary, who had told him Tess hadn't come in that morning. "She called to say she might be coming in late," was how she'd put it.

"How late?"

"She didn't say."

When he had asked for her cell-phone number, he was told they didn't give out personal information, but he decided it was about time he had the number, and the Institute's position was quickly reversed once he explained that he was with the FBI.

After three rings, her cell phone had clicked through but she hadn't said anything. He had heard only a shuffling noise, like when someone accidentally triggers a speed-dialed call from a cell phone in their handbag or pocket; but then he had heard her say "Please," in a tone that was disturbing. She had sounded scared. Like someone pleading. And then there was a succession of noises he was racing to make sense of: a sharp crack, then a couple of small thumps, what sounded like a brief, muffled cry of pain, and a much louder thump. He had shouted "Tess" into the phone again, but didn't get an answer, and then the line went dead.

Staring at his phone now, his heart was pounding. He really didn't like the way that "Please" had sounded.

Something was definitely, horribly wrong.

His mind racing, he dialed the Institute again and got through to Lizzie.

"It's Agent Reilly again. I need to know where Tess—" He quickly corrected himself, "—where Miss Chaykin is. It's urgent."

"I don't know where she is. She didn't say where she was going. All she said was that she'd be coming in late."

"I need you to have a look at her diary, check her e-mail. Does she keep an electronic calendar, maybe a program that's in sync with her PDA? There's got to be something there."

"Just give me a minute," she said, sounding edgy.

Reilly could see his partner now looking at him with concern.

"What's going on?" Aparo asked.

Reilly cupped the mouthpiece with one hand and scribbled down Tess's cell-phone number for Aparo with the other. "It's Tess. Something's happened. Get a fix on her cell."

** ** **

Across the East River, a gray Volvo was slowly making its way up the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, heading toward the Brooklyn Bridge.

Three cars behind the Volvo and keeping a discreet distance was a gunmetal gray Ford sedan, driven by a man who had the nasty habit of flicking cigarette butts out the car window while they were still lit.

To his left and across the river, the spires of the Lower East Side beckoned.

As he had guessed, the Volvo was soon on the bridge and heading into Manhattan.